Thought for the day:
"Language reveals the man. Speak that I may see thee."
Ben Jonson, writer from the 16th century
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Sleep Well. ????
Ahhh....at last. Perfect sleeping conditions. Nice and cool. Cozy warm blankets. Dark, quiet. Peaceful doggie stretched at the foot, purring cat curled at the head. Husband SILENT! A rare occurance. Click off the bedside light,repeat aahhhh..... Wait a minute. What's that noise? Like, breeeeathe sniff, breeeathe sniff. As the cat purrs decrease, breeeathe sniff decibel levels increase. Poke the cat, volume increase on the purrs. Aahhh.... Purrrrrr, purrrr, purrrr. Purr......pur......pu..... Shit. Poke the cat. Purr volume increase. Breeeathe, sniff...jerk jerk. Whine whimper. It's the bloody dog! Snoring, twitching, and whimpering! Boot the dog ever so gently from beneath the blankets. Silence. Except for purrrr purrrrr purrrr. Aaahhh....one begins to doze. Nice and dark, peaceful. Purrr, purr.....raaaasssp. Purr purr raaaassspp. Aaagh! The bloody cat is snoring! Poke poke! (Aggressive poking going on now.) Purrr purrr purrr. Dozing. Lovely.... Suddenly, up perks Cat! Purr goes off, energetic rising up of Cat, unnecessarily heavy stomping across inert human (albeit AWAKE) form, loud thumping to the floor and noisy chomping of kibble ensuing from the kitchen below. Sigh. Aw well. Nice and cool and dark and quie....... Gghhhllllaaarrrrrgggg.......zzzzzeeeeewwww! Sssnneeerrrrgggllegggg......fffnnneeeeuwwwww. Bloody husband. Where are the earplugs?
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Common Sense?
Glade new SensaSpray! Set the dial to spritz a whiff of sense as often as needed, from every 10 seconds up to every 12 hours! How often do you need to be sensible? For example, say you're unable to break through your wife's most recent silent treatment. One spritz of Glade SensaSpray and you'll rush out for flowers and chocolates! Kids being brats? Glade SensaSpray once a day will not only cause the little dears to sensibly cease tearing each other's hair out, but they'll develop the common sensical desire to do homework plus clean their rooms. And! Mom and Dad's common sense will spring into life as they realize the benefits of a new sense of discipline.... Glade SensaSpray comes in several sweet fragrances. Piney Perfume! Develop a sense of relaxation without ever taking a break from work or getting into the (real) refreshing outdoors. Remember the prodigal son? A few snorts of Glade 'Hog Essence' sends prodigal adolescents plunging out of the pig pen and hobbling for home. Having a brain-dead day at the office? Plug in 'Caffeine Aroma' Sensaspray and see your meetings jolt into sensible solutions. If you find SensaSpray once a day isn't sensible anymore, you may safely sniff as often as you wish, just by changing the handy fragrance plug-in. **Warning: Glade is not responsible for overly sensible behavior that may be brought on by overuse of this product. Which may or may not be completely chemically induced.**
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Day After
Dear Brother,
Imagine brilliant blue like a glazed pottery bowl inverted overhead...from horizon to horizon in a perfect-seeming circle all above. Against the blue, white on white gulls wheeling and turning, calling and gossiping. Just for contrast, two fish crows as big as ravens twirl glossy black within the white dancing group, and one lone speckled adolescent gull. Looking spotty, as teens often do.
Jimmy pulling so strongly on his leash he nearly pulls me off my precarious icy way so I have to walk along the roadside, on the rough snow. One tire on the rough for traction, as Dad taught us.
Oh, the blast of arctic breeze as we pass the side streets! Oh, the soothing calm passing the windbreak of houses. Stomp, stomp, stomp to break a track in the slick frozen surface of the drift in the park gate. Then step, limp, step, limp as my feet fall through on every third step or so. One leg longer than the other. Or peg-leg. Jimmy's having an easy time of it. Not many sniffs though. Guess it was too cold out for those other wussy dogs.
Another flock rises up from its daily conference in the park. Squalling back at Jimmy for breaking it up early. Matte black dog on bright shining snow under a high blue sky.
Now Jimmy must be on a short leash, trotting along the street. No sidewalks in our little village. The short leash is compensated for by plenty of good sniffs on this block. A truck pulls far to the side as we approach the corner, now blind thanks to mountains of dirty pinkish snow thrown up by the plow.
Walking backwards, scarf held well up and tucked well in, to get a rest from the sharp wind.
By the time I wrap Jimmy's leash around the flower box, in the sunny place on the high porch of the grocery store, tears run down my cheeks and try to freeze. The sun is trapped on this wooden porch. A good place for a chair to sit and watch the comings and goings. Jimmy takes the first watch.
After the shopping, Jimmy rides home in the truck while I crazily walk home in the cold. Wind's at the back, except on the cross streets. Which there are three of. Not counting the wind across the broad, snowy park. Still, an easier walk going than coming. All the boat "bums" are lined up east of the park, awaiting open water, casting blue shadows on the clean snow.
Under the great piles of snow shovelled up on either side of the slick iced sidewalk, rose bushes rest.
Imagine what it would be like to live in a land where there is no winter. If you can.
Imagine brilliant blue like a glazed pottery bowl inverted overhead...from horizon to horizon in a perfect-seeming circle all above. Against the blue, white on white gulls wheeling and turning, calling and gossiping. Just for contrast, two fish crows as big as ravens twirl glossy black within the white dancing group, and one lone speckled adolescent gull. Looking spotty, as teens often do.
Jimmy pulling so strongly on his leash he nearly pulls me off my precarious icy way so I have to walk along the roadside, on the rough snow. One tire on the rough for traction, as Dad taught us.
Oh, the blast of arctic breeze as we pass the side streets! Oh, the soothing calm passing the windbreak of houses. Stomp, stomp, stomp to break a track in the slick frozen surface of the drift in the park gate. Then step, limp, step, limp as my feet fall through on every third step or so. One leg longer than the other. Or peg-leg. Jimmy's having an easy time of it. Not many sniffs though. Guess it was too cold out for those other wussy dogs.
Another flock rises up from its daily conference in the park. Squalling back at Jimmy for breaking it up early. Matte black dog on bright shining snow under a high blue sky.
Now Jimmy must be on a short leash, trotting along the street. No sidewalks in our little village. The short leash is compensated for by plenty of good sniffs on this block. A truck pulls far to the side as we approach the corner, now blind thanks to mountains of dirty pinkish snow thrown up by the plow.
Walking backwards, scarf held well up and tucked well in, to get a rest from the sharp wind.
By the time I wrap Jimmy's leash around the flower box, in the sunny place on the high porch of the grocery store, tears run down my cheeks and try to freeze. The sun is trapped on this wooden porch. A good place for a chair to sit and watch the comings and goings. Jimmy takes the first watch.
After the shopping, Jimmy rides home in the truck while I crazily walk home in the cold. Wind's at the back, except on the cross streets. Which there are three of. Not counting the wind across the broad, snowy park. Still, an easier walk going than coming. All the boat "bums" are lined up east of the park, awaiting open water, casting blue shadows on the clean snow.
Under the great piles of snow shovelled up on either side of the slick iced sidewalk, rose bushes rest.
Imagine what it would be like to live in a land where there is no winter. If you can.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Snow Day
Looks like a good day to paint that office floor. Got the hammer, the can opener, the paint, the tape. Woohoo! I'll just trot out to the garden shed and get the roller and tray. Well, being as how it's been snowing for some time, and blowing. For some time.... on with the ski pants, the tall boots, the winter coat, and the work mitts. And away we go with the shovel. And the dog. First, shovel around the corner directly below the porch steps. Remind the dog he's not allowed on the road. Six times. Obviously it's gonna be too time consuming to shovel all the way to the shed, so plod thru 18" of snow (don't slip on the ice!) to the shed. Shovel enough snow away to get the door open. The drifts are discouraging the dog from going next door. With a few reminders. Search for the tools. Shit. Here's where one recalls that one reorganized the shed 3 months ago. No tray. No roller. Fine. Plod thru drifts, over ice, and along path to the workshop. The doorway of which has drifted in very thoroughly. Resist shovelling the entire path. Shovel only a 24" square, enabling dog and self to enter shop. No bloody tray. No bloody roller. Push against snow AND wind (against which the shovel makes a wonderful sail) (if you're in the mood for sailing at this moment), across ice, thru drifts, call dog, back into the house. Remove all clothing, now assuring self that tray and roller are in the basement. Search basement. Thoroughly. Shit. Back on with the clothes. Dog is exceedingly joyful. Master is not. Back out to the shop. Nothing. Revisit shed. Nothing. Throw down the shovel, while resisting throwing down oneself and howling. Tramp thru drifts, across ice, into the house, re-search basement while retaining snowy clothing. Stomp upstairs, wrench keys from hook, resist pleading eyes of dog, and drive (on completely iced roads thru blowing snow) to the hardware store. After sliding across the ice rink which was once a parking lot, curiously vehicle free, one notices the closed sign........ Yes. One knew a fresh stat. holiday had been invented. The ticker tape of swear words that passed thru the mind of this writer shall not be recorded. One accepts(albeit cheerlessly) that the hardware store people are having a wonderful day at home, away from irritated customers. Resist with extreme difficulty and admirable self-control the urge to pull into the liquor store. Which is likely closed anyway. After spinning the tires up the hill, plowing thru the drift at the end of the road, and observing the snow-piled entrance to the drive, this writer parks elsewhere. Plods thru the drifts and over the ice to the house, where the dog greets the writer merrily. Blithely. And the writer paints the floor with a brush. Tomorrow this writer is definitely going to the liquor store AND the hardware. So there.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Freedom
Let us go forth and enjoy some freedom in life. While taking care of business, I mean essential business, we can still have freedom. Now don't get me off on the rabbit trail of what's essential..... Here are some of the variables in life that seem to me to be creating a feeling of being trapped, and how we can get out of these traps.
Too many of us believe we must be swallowed up by our spouses to have a complete relationship with them. Not so! We can still be one in spirit while maintaining the freedom of indiviuality. We put ourselves in these boxes and allow ourselves to be FedExed to and fro, instead of living outside the box, and maintaining individual interests.
We become devoured by our jobs and careers. If only someone had trained me to know that pursuing my passion in my life's work would be freeing, fulfilling, and financially satisfying. I'm here to tell you, at any age we can change direction, moving out of the trap and into freedom.
Even little things in daily life can create a freedom feeling within. Just thinking "I choose to, I want to, or I will" rather than thinking "I have", gives a sense of freedom in and choice of our own activities.
Shall we let go of one thing that feels like a trap? One thing that just pushes us over the line into stretched-to-breaking? After all, when it's all over, will anyone remember fondly that you made the bed every day, even tho' you hated it? That you cooked, but you hated to? That you were polite every single time instead of honest?
My friend Bernice left her floor unwashed and unpolished to play with her granddaughter in the sandbox. Bernice had a job,a farm, a husband to look after. She's the one who taught me, "Who will remember when I'm dead, that I had a clean floor?" Insert your personal trap.
There's compromise, and then there are traps. There's give and take, and then there's giving in. Or giving up.
It seems like this is running on.......but do you see what I'm getting at? Be yourself, step outside the box, take a wee chance, and move toward freedom. Change something that you would change if you knew you only had a year to live, or your kid only had a year, or your spouse, or your parent, or your dog...... You know, if you had the time or the money, what thing would you change? Now, if that seems too big or impossible, change something small. If you can't think of anything, send me a comment and I'll think of something for ya!
Remember the old saying, "Stop and smell the roses"? There's one thing you can do. Join me in freedom.
Too many of us believe we must be swallowed up by our spouses to have a complete relationship with them. Not so! We can still be one in spirit while maintaining the freedom of indiviuality. We put ourselves in these boxes and allow ourselves to be FedExed to and fro, instead of living outside the box, and maintaining individual interests.
We become devoured by our jobs and careers. If only someone had trained me to know that pursuing my passion in my life's work would be freeing, fulfilling, and financially satisfying. I'm here to tell you, at any age we can change direction, moving out of the trap and into freedom.
Even little things in daily life can create a freedom feeling within. Just thinking "I choose to, I want to, or I will" rather than thinking "I have", gives a sense of freedom in and choice of our own activities.
Shall we let go of one thing that feels like a trap? One thing that just pushes us over the line into stretched-to-breaking? After all, when it's all over, will anyone remember fondly that you made the bed every day, even tho' you hated it? That you cooked, but you hated to? That you were polite every single time instead of honest?
My friend Bernice left her floor unwashed and unpolished to play with her granddaughter in the sandbox. Bernice had a job,a farm, a husband to look after. She's the one who taught me, "Who will remember when I'm dead, that I had a clean floor?" Insert your personal trap.
There's compromise, and then there are traps. There's give and take, and then there's giving in. Or giving up.
It seems like this is running on.......but do you see what I'm getting at? Be yourself, step outside the box, take a wee chance, and move toward freedom. Change something that you would change if you knew you only had a year to live, or your kid only had a year, or your spouse, or your parent, or your dog...... You know, if you had the time or the money, what thing would you change? Now, if that seems too big or impossible, change something small. If you can't think of anything, send me a comment and I'll think of something for ya!
Remember the old saying, "Stop and smell the roses"? There's one thing you can do. Join me in freedom.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Borrowed from Sheik Muslip-Uddin Sadi (circa 1300 a.d.)
"If of thy worldly goods thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves alone to thee are left
Sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul."
One of my very favorite wisdoms, which I practice always, with excellent result. Try it. You'll like it.
"If of thy worldly goods thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves alone to thee are left
Sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul."
One of my very favorite wisdoms, which I practice always, with excellent result. Try it. You'll like it.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Sunny Side of the Fence
It's about saddening the heart of God. Face value versus heart value. What is "sin" anyway? How important is attitude compared to behavior? Does anyone really care anymore? What about honesty? What is that nowadays?
It seems this comment is becoming a litany of questions rather than a statement of opinion. Maybe the opinion of the day isn't so sunny. Which brings up another question...must the Sunny Side of the Fence always be sunny? Is any cloud allowed? (There's your poem for the day.)
Ciao for now!
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