Just Wondering
Just wondering if anyone else ever leaves the desk in the home office, only to come back and find that the laundry fairy has dumped a load of clothes on the desk to be folded?
Friday’s Wandering Thought
Scratching an arm, she said, “Something bit me good.”
He understood. Sometimes a good bite was a bad thing.
Twins
After leaving the garage, he looked down the street. There, in the middle, was a doe with her twin fawns. Appearing almost brand new, they were adorable. He called his wife out so she could see. Watching together as the doe and her fawns came up the street — mama walking slow, the fawns galloping in spurts — they wondered if she was the same doe who’d been hanging around their yard.
After the family disappeared behind the neighbor’s house across the street, he left in his car. Arriving at a stop light, he saw a mother with her twins on a bicycle. Wearing helmets, blond curls sticking out, the twins looked like they were about two years old, tiny perfect human replicas.
It was a good day for twins. It felt like the world was making a statement. As often with the world’s statements, he just wasn’t certain what the statement was.
Lost Button
Where is my button?
I can’t find it now.
Don’t know where to eat, what to eat,
And I’m beginning to forget how.
Where is my button?
How do I get through the day?
What will I do when others come around,
Asking me to play?
Without my button, I don’t know where to go,
I have nothing smart to say.
Oh, where is my button?
How did I lose it this way?
People say they never used to have them,
But that cannot be true.
How did they know how to dress,
How to act, what to learn,
Without a button to show the truth?
Oh, where is my button?
It’s driving me insane.
How can I be me, without my button to say?
The Writing Moment
He enjoys writing, especially science fiction, fantasy, speculative fiction. Been entertaining himself with it on computer since he first bought a Kaypro in the 1980s and installed WordStar. Many of those stories are trapped on old floppy disks stored in a container in a closet in his home office.
He still uses a computer but MS Word is now the program, and all is saved on a hard drive regularly backed up. One feature in Word both helpful and bugs him is autocorrect. Making up words, planets, languages, names, of course, is fun. Autocorrect usually marks it as wrong and tries ‘fixing’ it for him. What’s weirdest is when it takes one of manufactured words and turns it into a real word which he doesn’t know. Always sends him to the net to see what that word means.
Sunday’s Theme Music
Happy National Cheese Day! Yes, it’s Sunday, June 4, 2023, which, as all know in the US, is National Cheese Day. Yes, America’s founders, Washington, Adams, Franklin, and the like, loved cheese. They regularly ate cheese while working with Jefferson on the founding documents. Jefferson practically lived on cheese during those days. Whenever he got stuck, someone would say, “Get Tommy some cheddar.” One of the reasons why we have problems with the Second Amendment in the Bill of Rights was because of the Great American Cheese Shortage. They were trying to come up with the right words but ran out of cheese. Quoting T.J., he wrote in his journal, “I can’t think without my cheese. I crave colby so deeply that it plagues my dreams. Damn it all, when will we get more cheese?” Today’s conversations about gun rights may have been much different if they hadn’t run out of cheese. That’s also when the expression, “Cut the cheese”, was originated when someone passed gas.
I hope that cheesy tale didn’t curdle your spirit. Mozzarella with you, can’t stand a little weird humor? I know, calling it humor might be slicing it thin. Remember, just brieth and move on.
Yesterday went so well with the weather, we’re doing it again today. 60 F now, we have expectations to pop into the mid 80s F, a lovely summer prelude. More yardwork on the agenda. With all the late rain we had, the bushes and trees went nuts and need trimmed back.
Jimmy Eat World is in the morning mental music stream. I was taking in an eyeful of luscious full moon last night, recalling how, during cheese shortages, people looked up at the moon and saw cheese. “Oh, if only we could reach it,” they’d tell one another. “We’d have all the cheese we want.” Sometimes they built great edifices, like towers and pyramids, in an attempt to reach the cheesy moon, or climb the highest mountains. They’d come down from the mountains and people would greet them and ask, “Did you get some cheese?” But no; they usually came down empty handed, except one guy, who came back with some tablets. People were furious with him. “Tablets? We can’t eat those. We want cheese.”
Anyway, while taking in the moon, the night’s beauty took my breath away. From that, The Neurons began feeding different songs with the phrase, ‘take my breath away’, in it. There are a few, and my mind busied itself, eventually branching out to songs about breathing or with the word breath in them. Eventually, The Neurons rediscovered “Pain” by Jimmy Eat World from 2004. The song landed in the morning mental music stream and has been going ’round and around in it until now, when I free myself by offering it to others. Don’t know why, but that’s how it works.
Stay pos and carpe Sunday. Time for more coffee, don’t you think? Yes, The Neurons agree, it is. Here’s the music. Cheers
Saturday’s Wandering Thought
He bent to the bathroom sink to wash, brush his teeth, and shave. Movement made him stop. A small spider was trying to climb up the sink’s white porcelain surface. Each time the spider came within an inch of the top, he slid a few inches back down.
He put his finger out to help the spider. The spider darted back and slid all the way back into the basin. After a three-count, the climb back up was begun again.
He looked for something to use as a spider lift. But as he finally found something, he saw the spider was almost to the top again. He leaned closer to the arachnid. “Come on, you can do. Just think of yourself as the little spider who can. Tell yourself, I think I can, I think I can.”
The spider made it. After a pause — orienting himself or catching his breath? — the spider turned and marched along the counter top and on to another adventure.
There & Gone
The floof is there and then he’s gone,
And then back beside me like a remembered song.
Pleasing me with his looks and presence,
Causing me to give him treats and attention as presents.
So it goes for a number of years,
Feeding him, tending him, addressing worries and fears.
Till it comes, a day so still,
Death has finally broken his will.
And he’s not beside me because he’s gone,
Till my mind brings him back like a remembered song.
Michael Seidel, writer 