Blogging, to take over the world.
The object is to teach an old dog new tricks. (not much hope ... )|
|Here I was explaining about Rammesses , Ramesis, and Nefrititi, and got a long, cold, hard look ~ oh, and do not forget Luxor and all that Nile thing.
To really complicate matters, the Hun was mentioned in passing, and 'the Great' which was displaced.
Do not test other peoples' sense of humour / humor, especially when they were rammed by said Ramesis the Ram. It wasn't funny, not then, not now - no; it was not!
The Frontis piece shows Ramesis the Hun with his new bell - (this image may be replaced in future).
At least now we will have fair warning: Beware Ye for whom the bell tolls!
|Sheep feature in my life, a small flock of about twenty ewes (yes, I can count, 'about' means the sheep come and go, breed, get sold, and so forth, we are not vegan) what is a person who eats almost everything in sight?
The leader of this flock is called a ram - no ram, no lambs. Rams are notorious about their ability to protect the flock, and with good reason, someone has to look at the safety matters whenever it is required.
Some rams will eventually become over zealous and butt everyone in sight. A few books have been written on this basis, even a few sayings and words of wisdom arise from this habit.
Young rams will spend hours trying to assert themselves in the flock, having bouts of butting seemingly all day long.
The Madam of the House decided to close the sheep in their pen, and for a moment looked away from the flock.
Rams have a habit of knowing when people look elsewhere ...
The damn ram rammed the Madam on the upper leg, throwing her off balance, she fell like a log on her shoulder.
Now we have a rammed M'am with a collar bone issue, a sling, a blue bum to boot.
The future of the ram is dark, and all 'cause the ram did what rams must do - only not to M'am
|"What are *your* goals for the new year? Think it over, write a letter and win big prizes!"
Thought about it; every one could do with a nice big prize, and all for the writing of a simple letter to Dear Me.
Now all what needs to be done is to get the system in operation.
Find Me; is the first step. (rather informal here, 'Me' is adequate)
Wonders where Me will be this time of day.
Note to self:
This is a process in progress, please be patient, you know the drill!
------ Somewhat later, actually, a lot later, like - a lot later.
"Dear Me ..."
"Can you not see I am buzy! And what is it with this 'Dear Me', what do you want, Mr Self?"
"There is a competition for important people like yourself, Sir Me."
"Now it is 'Sir Me'? What do you get out of this?"
"Me ... nothing, there is a big prize for you, should you win Dear Sir Me."
"And what do I have to do?"
"Enter an item on WDC Mr.Dear Me."
"When is the closing date Self, do I have to drag everything out of you?"
"Well, Sir, I mean Dear Mr. Me, tonight midnight, and only a short item on the plans concerning the writing program for this year."
"Are you out of of your mind Self, where is I, do you lot never do anything else except procrastinate?"
"Excuse Dear Me, what does 'procrastinate' mean.?
|Waiting for the development to be completed; to see a creature crawl out from its stage - be it a being of the crysalis, the pupa, or cocoon, maybe the winter coat to be discarded, whatever, the waiting period is now in the phase of spring.
Summer is running slow, Mother Nature seems to be on holiday, the green frock is still covered in the dust of the season past. Rain is washing the dirt away with the lazy effort of a char-lady with a case of the month end blues.
The animals seem more optimistic, baby antelope are seeing the light of day, these young are supposed to only arrive with the grass.
Grass is peeking out of its drought bed, some one wetted the bed, now it is time to get the grass out. The antelope follows the show and in turn, they too produce their offspring.
The farmer has waited as well, and now the plough is sent to do what ploughs do, soon the world will be green, and should the follow-up rains visit, all will be well ...
Christmas came and went, family, feasting, presents, and new socks!
A quiet X-mas - all ended well.
|Two months and three days later, things went on, there is much news or none, depending on what one would call news.
The BIG 50 came and went, a small family gathering with too much to feast on.
This was the wedding anniversary on the 14th July, the Official Opposition and the King (me) have managed to eat our way thru many a bag of salt without getting too sick of each other. It was close on a few occasions - still, here we are. The secret: quite simple, too many kids - I mean; who is going to tell the kids - what?
Then there was the Big Issue with the cattle, within a space of two days we lost five (5) fully grown cows. Three more had symptons, and fortunately recovered. What caused it is still a mystery. The Full Circus was involved, all except the Clown responsible for this drama, maybe he/she/it was there, one would not know for a while. Reminds me of Agatha's 10 Little Indians. Still searching since the 15th June, and the search is costing a pretty penny. A long story ...
Later more ... yes there is more -- Later, much later ...
12th August - no final answer yet, Pathology, Chemical, Fauna&Flora, everything; points to poisoning. Nature or man, the villian is still out there!
|In my world, I am King.
I did not ask for the position, it was my birthright.
Before my time, there was a Queen, she was my Mother.
Many a man applied for the position of King, somehow they all failed the required test of the Queen, for at the end, there was only the two of Us.
(to be continued at some other time ... )
Eventually the Prince(me) grew to be able to obtain a partner, who then became his Queen, thereby making the Prince a King, not a frog.
"To have, to give, and give, and give ..." it never stops.
Then there were three, then more, and more, the count was stopped at a hundred and four.
(That is another story for another day.)
This blog is called a load of BULL, as there is no sense to it, it is not to make sense, for all of life has little sense to it.
We are born, we eat, we grow, we breed, then depart; this is the accepted way.
There are other ways, those routes we will ignore for now.
Small achievements along the way, great we make them, it is our way -
Firstborn, as if I was the first to ever cause this event, cigars, schnapps, celebrate;
Then number two - and more (note the lack of a period, it did not stop there)
|A reader, that is what I am. Maybe one day, a writer, not today.
To do words, one must use the correct word correctly. Else everything turns into a mush of garbage, about like what is being read now.
It will make little sense without a proper introduction, layout, and logic.
P = Promise
R = Right
It is all about what is, and what should be.
We start off with the 'Right to life'; then everything goes haywire there after.
Where did the 'Promise to a better life' go?
On this we build our worlds.
|Got woken up to a call "come and see the meerkats in the springboks' enclosure."
There they were, twenty plus, on their way to new worlds.
Meerkats are the Gypsies of the wild, never settling in an area, always moving from area to area.
The driving force is food, as they are mainly insect-eaters, they deplete the area fairly quickly of any edible items.
Digging, digging, morning to a full tummy, so the cycle goes.
The springbok camp (enclosure) is on the west side, (see 11 February), not the same as where the sheep slept and caused the pipe issue.
The two camps are next to each other, the house is surrounded by 'camps', the north is the veggie patch, east is the flower garden and the garage area, south - two smaller camps alternate as dog walks; then the geese/other animals start.
The camps are added security measures, security being a basic requirement as the criminal element is escalating.
All over the world, security is in high demand.
Different reasons, or the same reason - mankind is going mad!
|I did mention; I am cleaning the 'treasure house' (also called The Den, That place, Throne Room, and a few other which may not be ASR)
''' The title of the essay comes from Virginia Woolf's conception that, "a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction" '''
This much may be true of all writers.
Very few make a decent living from writing, and yet, they still persist.
Getting away from today's subject: 'one's own' - is the subject to focus on.
How many people can use those words freely, and truly be happy with what they have?
|In the previous blog, rain was likened to a leopard, a spot here, and a spot there - now the spots have taken over the picture, and we have a wet leopard, all spots are the same; wet, even the spaces inbetween are now wet!
The villain of the story defeated, Mr. Drought put in his place; (to re-appear again in another episode of Life.)
At last, a season of planting is possible. All is well ...
Like every good story, new villains -
Army worms have turned up to snack on the corn on the menu, a new strain, imported from America - Super Worm!
The Worm to end all crops, and the good guys are doing their best to contain this scourge.
Calling Superman or somebody ... help!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch ... (<< this may not be clear to younger viewers) the sheep's pen was flooded today, and the sheep were moved closer home to the only 'dry spot' on the farm. This spot was a small camp right behind the west side of the home, one can look out the window from the kitchen, and there the sheep are, safe and dry.
Yes - there are drainpipes, and waterpipes, and other stuff, stuff that sheep can stuff-up.
I know ... it is the only dry spot, lets hope!
Dog-patrol at 1am, and as I let the dog out (*), water can be heard gushing out a pipe, yes, I know you said, anyways - the sheep were moved to the day-camp where the young ostriches play all day. The ostriches are closed up under roof at night, safe from all other mishaps.
The pipe put back in its place, and life goes on ...
(*) yes, it is I who let the dog out, I do it every day, no big thing, no need to make a song and dance about it!