Thursday, January 31, 2013



Well this is an offbeat subject and fairly gross but think about. When you die (and we all will die) what happens to your body?
Now death is it’s own subject handled in many methods. To just name a few of the associated topics to death: Abortion, Autopsy, Brain death, Cadaveric spasm, Clinical death, Death by natural causes, Death rattle, End-of-life care, Euthanasia, Lazarus sign, Lazarus syndrome, Mortal wound, Terminal illness, Unnatural death, Lists, Causes of death by rate, Expressions related to death, Natural disasters, People by cause of death, Premature obituaries, Preventable causes of death, Unusual deaths, Mortality, Immortality, Karsh, Legal death, Maternal death, Mortality salience, Prenatal mortality, Body, Burial, Coffin birth, Cremation, Cryonics, Death erection, Decomposition, Disposal, Embalming, Mummification, Natural burial, Post-mortem interval, Promession, Putrefaction, Resomation, Afterlife, Cemetery, Consciousness after death, Customs, Death mask, Eternal oblivion, Funeral, Grief, Intermediate state, Mourning, Resurrection, Taboo on the dead, Vigil, Paranormal, Near-death experience, Necromancy, Out-of-body experience, Reincarnation research, Séance, Abortion law, Administration of an estate on death, Capital punishment, Coroner, Death-qualified jury, Death certificate, Death in absentia, Death row, Dying declaration, Faked death, Inquest, Murder, Right to die, Trust law, Will, Death threat, Festival of the dead, Fascination with death, Homicide, Last rites, Martyr, Mortuary science, Necrobiology, Necrophilia, Necrophobia, Predation, Sacrifice, Spiritual death, Suicide, Thanatology, Thanato-sensitivity, Undead, and War.
What makes me think about this? Well all the murders and killings and wars on the news and the discussions of gun control and restrictions on abortions bring about the morbid thought of death.
And for years and years, well as long as I know it, after the doctor signs the piece of paper that declares death, then the family starts to morn the passing of a member and some guy in a black outfit takes the cadaver into a back room and “prepares” it and places it into a box. Most religions have some sort of ceremony to celebrate the life, even though the monitor didn’t even know the corpse, then quickly the box is placed into the ground and covered over.  These plots, as they are called, are suppose to be sacred ground and not to be disturbed.
Then somebody comes along and decides to build a highway or a skyscraper and guess what they find when they start digging? Some will call them artifacts and some will call them leftovers, but in the long run, they are cadavers. At least what remains of a cadaver?
Considering how long it takes for all the parts and pieces of the body to disintegrate and there are hundreds of thousands of these cadavers scattered everywhere, it is amazing we don’t find more. Some we place in respectable places like museums while others are ground into filler. Scientist and academics microscopically examine the parts and pieces and write papers worthy of thought provoking ideas. 
If it is the caucus of an animal other than our species we disregard its importance unless it is a gazillion years old. Doesn’t the same deity we all believe in have the same compassion for all living creatures?
Well, what really sparked this discussion was a story on the radio this morning on how some government agency or commission or whatever they do up there in government-land to tell Life Insurance companies to find beneficiaries of polices. It seems if someone put YOU as a beneficiary of an insurance policy and never told YOU and they became a cadaver and YOU didn’t know then the insurance company could not pay out the funds unless YOU asked for them. Not a bad plan.
Similar to a bank or any other “holding” organization who keeps YOUR assesses after you become a cadaver. Write your will now and get it over with.
Me, I plan on spending the last penny on my deathbed so forget any rewards. I’ll be under Route 265 thank you.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

What are you thinking?

You can’t help it. That mass of mush between your ears just won’t let you go on without thinking.
Thinking is the action of contemplation. Thinking is our analysis of events and situations and experiences. Thinking is what we do and we don’t even think about it.
Whoever “they” are, they say our species can get lost in thought. We have even produced products that will adjust our thinking.
Without realizing it, that gray matter we call a brain is going all the time like a little computer in our head. It is viewing an array of colors and patterns and hearing a multitude of sounds and tasting the air and feeling the surroundings then tries to make some kind of sense out of it. True multi-tasking this brain of ours is.
Today, with all the input from electronic devices, the thought process may be overloaded? I’m no expert on that subject but I do know one thing about thinking.
When left alone with your thoughts, in a quiet setting, without interruption or distractions, the mind can take you to places you never imagined.
Ponder this if you will. When you sleep, the body is at rest, but the brain is still thinking. It is analyzing the day’s events and sorting through reactions, complex emotions and the culmination of a single body experiences.
So as we lay still, or as some of us do, toss and flop around, our body relaxes it’s muscles and slows the blood flow while the brain can assimilate the information adding it to the wasteland that is our individual being.
What about dreams? The mind is trying to accomplish the impossible. Relate the present with personal past references.
I don’t need a shrink to analyze my dreams. I know what they mean because I pay attention to them. I have even grown fond of them and all their weirdness. I never expected to see this, but then again, I may have been seeing this all along and never had the focus to see them.
We can blame it on the outside influences that distract us. We can blame it on the drink. We can blame it on the time. We have so many excuses to avoid thinking.
I am listening to some music (or lack there of) I recorded over 40 years ago and can remember the focus of thought that made these sounds. Each note was a reaction to the process and the process was the thought of producing this noise onto whatever was available at the time to record it. I imagine this is the same thought process writers go through. The brain is demanding your body to get these thoughts out.
So I challenge everyone within viewing site to stop whatever they are doing, turn off all the electronics, and sit quietly in one spot. Close you eyes and take a deep breath. Relax and listen to what you are thinking.
It is scary crazy.

Monday, January 28, 2013


Everyday we make hundreds of these. Today is no different. Or is it?
Today is Sunday. The day when every decision is to relax and regroup for another week of hard work. Most of today’s decisions will be not what to wear or where to ride or even when to sleep. All this is routine. From the decision to open my eyes and accept another day, to recognizing the time by what is on the radio is a decision. The next big decision would be to go down the hall and then get dressed or get dressed and then go down the hall. The left sock goes on first then the right. No decision there. The same long underwear and the same dirty jeans as yesterday. The same six-year old t-shirt that was worn yesterday and slept in last night and then today and tonight and tomorrow. No major decisions here.
When I was a kid all the decisions were made for me. Get up at a certain time, wash, brush teeth then a good breakfast. Well, maybe not a “good” breakfast, but it was the only time the family sat down together. Put on a suit and tie and wait for the parents to do the same. Arrive at the church at the same time, sit in the same pew, follow the same rituals, sing the same songs, attend the same teachings with the same kids (some of whom you only see in this setting), gather after services, go to the same grill and have the same meal for lunch. Returning home at the same time, the suit and tie were hung up in the closet and weekend wear (not school clothing) was put on. The afternoon was occupied with being stored away in a dark room watching black and white monsters, cowboys, cartoons and newsreels of how we won the war. All the decisions predetermined and accepted as family ritual.
Through the years the decisions of the day were handed over to teach how to deal with life. Some decisions are tempered by emotions, some made out of panic, and many influenced by the lack of or availability of funds. With all the bumps and bruises decisions of life moves us on our unique path. Maybe the sum of life is the decisions one makes?
Should I call the girl who gave me her number? Should I buy that car even though I know I can't afford it? Should I move beyond what is acceptable? Should I stay or should I go?
The decisions, whether agreed upon or solely decided, can affect others. Decisions made due to outside influences can be reactions. Some are knee jerk responses to an unexpected occurrence and some are plotted with previous planning. Some decisions can change a life or can be regretted at a later time. No matter what or who may be to blame, one must take responsibility for his or her decision and live with it.
Today will be another day just like all the other days filled with possibilities.  The decisions of the day are totally my own to make without discussion or approval.
What will be the big decision of today? Leave the house at the same time and observe the yard before following the usual path out to the street. No big decisions there, just habit formed motions. Waiting at the light for the traffic to allow passage but that is not my decision only a survival technique. Taking long deep breaths and widening the eyes behind the dark glasses to clear the head of the nightly mucus build up which is only a daily health function the body adjust and wakes up to the chill. Park the pony, take off the gloves and put them in the saddle bags, take off the helmet and latch it to the body, pull out the lock, find the correct key and lock it to the stop sign. Take a breath, look around, grab the multi-colored cloth bag and walk through the electric eye doors. All these actions are just habits of everyday living and they happen in the same pattern everyday.
Now comes the BIG decision of the day. “What should I have for lunch?” Walking through the deli area viewing what has been on the plate for most of the week, tasting the thick dry bread or the overcooked chicken, I move on. The produce is appealing in the colors but without a refrigeration unit, there is no place for storage. Besides cold weather does not raise the taste buds to lettuce and carrots. Pass the dead animals and canned food to the icy storage section, a pause at the veggie steamers seems right, but is passed for today. Instead the stop at the appetizers to pick up the same frozen mini-burgers that I had yesterday. Not the healthiest decision of the day but it is easy and quick and only requires the additional purchase of mustard.
There are so many reasons not to make a decision. Sometimes we just want to delay the inevitable or sometimes so confused with all the different possible options the decision is not made and just kicked down the road to another time. Leaders of industry make decisions that will affect workers livelihoods, make or break shareholders bankrolls, and possibility the economy of the nation. Generals make life and death decisions everyday. Proper families make decisions on raising children, adequate education and housing, exposure to natural and cultural events, and possible thoughts of retirement. Some fall into misfortune and make bad decisions about those who influence or succumbing to the weakness of the flesh.
Have you ever watched an elderly person? Not just old guys like me, an elderly person living in an assisted care living establishment. What does he or she decide during the day? At that point in life what one wears or what one eats or where one sleeps is out of one’s control. Life’s decisions have been made by now and the day-to-day survival usually depends on another. If the mind is aware, he or she is still trying to make decisions but may not be able to succeed in accomplishment of thought to action. Maybe there is only one more decision to make? And that decision may be out of our control?
So what will tomorrow’s decisions bring?

Saturday, January 26, 2013


Sure has been snowing a lot so I return to one of my favorite subjects.
Flirting or coquetry is a social activity involving verbal or written communication by one person to another, suggesting an interest in the possibility of a “deeper relationship” (if you know what I mean?).  
Flirting usually involves speaking and behaving in a way that suggests a mildly greater intimacy than the actual relationship between the parties would justify, though within the rules of social etiquette. This may be accomplished by communicating a sense of playfulness or double entendres, or body language.
Flirting behavior varies across cultures. How closely one should stand next to another or how long eye contact will remain or even if touching is appropriate keeps the pair enticed in the adventure.
People flirt for a variety of reasons. Flirting can indicate an interest in a deeper personal relationship with another person. Some people flirt simply for amusement, with no intention of developing any further relationship. This type of flirting sometimes faces disapproval from others, either because it can be misinterpreted as more serious, or it may be viewed as cheating if either person is in a committed relationship with someone else. Some couples set up rules and boundaries for their partner so one will know what's accepted and what's not.
The origin of the word flirt is obscure. The Oxford English Dictionary associates it with such onomatopoeic words as “flit” and “flick”, emphasizing a lack of seriousness; on the other hand, it has been attributed to the old French “conter fleurette”, which means "to (try to) seduce" by the dropping of flower petals, that is, "to speak sweet nothings".
Types of flirting
• Banter • Blowing a kiss • Casual touches; such as a woman gently touching a man's arm during conversation • Coyness, affectedly shy or modest, marked by cute, coquettish, or artful playfulness • Eye contact, batting eyelashes, staring, winking, etc. • Flattery (regarding beauty, sexual attractiveness) • Footsie, a form of flirtation in which people uses their feet to play with each other's feet • Giggling, or laughing encouragingly at any slight hint of intimacy in the other's behavior • Imitating of behaviors  • Maintaining very short distance during casual talking • Online chat, texting and other one-on-one and direct messaging services while hinting affection • Protean signals, such as touching one's hair • Sending notes, poems, or small gifts • Singing specially selected love songs in presence of the girl/boy • Smiling suggestively • Staging of "chance" encounters • Teasing • Tickling • Eyebrow raising
I’m a big fan of flirting for all the above reasons. I believe even as close to a partner or a significant other we are basic human animals and are always looking for more attention than we believe one can obtain. It somehow fills our soul, but one must know when to stop.
Courtship requires “flirting” as an awkward method to get to know the intended. It is our method to test the waters without too much danger leaving a path to back off if necessary. Again it introduces the mysterious enticement to go further.
Flirting is also a method to feed our own shallow egos. Sometimes it is a harmless gesture or a meaningless exercise, but it can have unintended results.
Go to any local adult beverage partaking establishment and on any night can be fulfilled with the entertainment of watching the “flirting” game make it’s hits and misses. Some leave the participants drunk and angry while others are only passing fancies of possibilities.
Being a shy person who could only overcome the intimidation of meeting another by using humor and gregarious behavior to break the ice, I’ve enjoyed the flirting experience. Without being the aggressor I was prime target for the web of the flirt while innocently never knowing it.
In the politically correct world of today, the flirt continues but with some restrain due to being labeled “a dirty old man”. Even that won’t stop me from keep a kick in my step or a flash in my eye.
And I now have the accumulated wisdom to know when not to cross the line. Keep smiling. I’m just flirting.

Or Current Resident

I sure do get a lot of mail directed to this person or persons. Wonder who they are?
The mail is usually for things that I don’t want or need. This “current resident” person must need auto insurance and life insurance and lawn care because he or she gets a lot of request for it. One would think the postal delivery person would look at my yard and put away the lawn care stuff or possibility I ride a bike and don’t need any auto insurance.
Speaking of insurance have you ever figured out what insurance does for you? It seems like after college all my classmates were looking for work and a majority of them went into selling insurance. To sell insurance one has to call an old classmate and offer the spiel to another over a company paid for lunch. Being raised in marketing and not willing to leave a bunch of cash to someone after I’m gone, I enjoyed the lunches and felt sorry for the poor saps that were not going to go anywhere.
Getting back to the “current residents” they seem to live everywhere. In every state and every city and every block there are those “current residents”. Now these “current residents” seem to live in a house that you already live in but the person who mailed the letter or advertisement doesn’t seem to know my name or can’t remember it so my name appears on the envelope then a second line to: “or Current Residents”.
Instead of trying to remember our identity with a family name and a given name maybe we should all just be “current residents”?
Like those proclamations of “To It May Concern” there is no individual identification just a statement to whoever will listen and pay attention. Then again, maybe we are just current residents?

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Finding the stash


Since it has gotten cold enough that a pair of sweatshirts does not hold out the cold, I decided it was time to pull out the winter clothing.
A few years ago I separated my summer and winter clothing putting t-shirts and shorts in drawers and hanging up sweaters and overcoats into hanger bags. Last winter the weather was fairly mild and I only had to wear an overcoat once so I had forgotten what I had.
Walking up my 13 steps and across the creaking boards, I went from bag to bag trying to decide what to bring downstairs for the season. I pulled out a white super plush thick hoodie and on my walk to the music store to get a keyboard holder broke out in a sweat.
Listening to additional weather reports of cold temps and snow, I remembered my neck cover and wondered where that was. To anyone who goes outside in the cold will know, coats cover the body and hats cover the head but there is a gap under the chin to the trunk of the body that is exposed. Scarves are bulky and slide around and a bare neck just is not comfortable. It is also a gateway to the body for cold wind when riding a bike.
Officially they are called “Ski Neck Warmers” and come in lots of different materials and styles. I don’t remember where I found this one but it has been the best item to stay warm. It is just a double lined blue fleece collar about 6” wide. There are no extensions like a turtleneck dickey to fit under a shirt. Just pull it over your head and tuck it into the top of your sweatshirt of t-shirt. Roll over the top until your face can move easily and that is that. It keeps the neck warm and dry and blocks the flow of air to the body.
That neck warmer and a pair of earmuffs that wrap around from the back kept me warm many a dark, windy and cold winter night riding home.
Then I thought about gloves. I seem to have a fascination with gloves. Gloves are cheap accessories to the winter fashion statement and I have a lot of them. Big gloves with additional padding against winter, gloves that resist dampness like snow and tight gloves that was wind proof. Again I must preface this extreme interest in the fact that I ride a bike in winter. I need warmth since the hands are the first body part to hit the wind and need flexibility to change gears and squeeze brakes on icy roads.
In a long plastic box at the top of the stairs I cracked open to find my neck warmer and a bunch of gloves along with scarf’s and ear warmers. This was my treasure of the day. A few years before I placed all my other winter items into this container with some mothball protection and stoked it away until needed. What a find.
There was a green thick scarf knitted by my wife. It was so huge and long it could keep your entire body warm in a snowdrift. There was the McIver scarf made from my families’ tartan. When worn with a black tux it was a very classy and unique statement. Especially when wearing kilts to match. Don’t remember what became of them but it was probably some passion battle or animal mishap. A brown utilitarian scarf with functionality but little fashion was found in the pile. A trio of ear warmers that are nothing more than a smaller version of the neck warm that is just a head band but thick enough to cover your ears. This doesn’t work as well when you wear a hat or glasses. Speaking of hats, there were a couple of woolen caps to keep the skull from freezing. A tan one loosely knitted by the house yarn master and a blue double knit one with the red dress pin in it and the grey snug presented themselves for active duty against the cold.
And of course the gloves were hidden in there. Tight knits with long fingers that I had to seek out a few years earlier trying to match my seasonal needs. I bought them and stuffed them into this box and never wore any of them. So today was a new adventure and I tried a pair to see if they met my requirements and they did.
Also in this box of wonders were the faded blue collarless long sleeve thermal shirt I wore for a year until it became so hot I had to put it away, the black fleece sleeveless vest with the high neck that was the perfect layer, the all American blue R.A.C. sweatshirt which is a bit snug now but still warm, and several sweaters worn in the office when sitting next to a floor-to-ceiling window got chilly.
All these items were necessary some years ago when winter was more of toil than today. In another wooden treasure trunk are the woolen blankets and warm bedspreads and hand-made Afghans presented by family members as gifts showing their talents with needles and yarn. In the chilly days to come, some may be extracted to keep the legs warm during the last football games or kept quiet in their trundle bed.
Another couple of weeks and the seasons will be changing yet again and the items will be dusted off and placed back in their storage units for a long summer sleep await to be called upon to warm the body and refresh the mind.

I Wonder Why?


Have you ever wondered...?
With all the discussion on gun control and all the 2nd amendment constitutional rights and all the slaughters going on, I wondered why we haven’t used these things in my entire lifetime?
Now I’m not saying we should or what the outcome would be if we did, but we created the biggest stick in the fight and then when a few other bullies had them, decided to stop the possibility of ending the planet by “non proliferation” of these big sticks. In the meantime, those who were informed hide under their desk while the others went on into oblivion with ignorance.
That is how you win a fight. Right? You show up with a more powerful weapon than the other guy. Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. Or at least it caused a cold war standoff for decades until you get tired of seeing who is going to push the button first and get on with other stuff.
So for years, these massive destruction and death statues have stood quietly across many lands maintained by young kids who don’t remember what the consequences could be. Ask one of them what happened on August 5th 1945. Metal from the 50’s rusting and rotting away and maybe leaking it’s potent passengers.
Unlike every other type of weapons, these atomic vehicles are well managed by only having a few, hopefully, well adjusted individuals who can order them released against some enemy as a last resort. That is what we think.
If you watch any movie nowadays, there are examples of weapons that can destroy more than what the scientist of the 40’s could have dreamed of. Perhaps these weapons are science fiction or maybe they are just video games of reality.
Remember after 9/11, America sent B52s to drop bombs on caves in mountains? What were they trying to destroy? Mountains?
So we have these massive destructive devices rotting in the ground and what are we going to do with them? Sure we are worried, though more in the background now, that someone will get a hold of one of these missiles instead of a semi-automatic gun, and play out their warped reaction to society. Some see this as mental illness until you watch a video game or a view the targets at a shooting range.
Hopefully the people in power will provide protection from those who might do us harm with the weapons to guarantee out peace. If not, each of us must gather arms and maintain vigilance on those who might invade our sanctuary and possibly take out belongings or personal space without our permission.
You ever wonder about things like that? Sure you do.

"Political Science" – Randy Newman
No one likes us-I don't know why
We may not be perfect, but heaven knows we try
But all around, even our old friends put us down
Let's drop the big one and see what happens

We give them money-but are they grateful?
No, they're spiteful and they're hateful
They don't respect us-so let's surprise them
We'll drop the big one and pulverize them

Asia's crowded and Europe's too old
Africa is far too hot
And Canada's too cold
And South America stole our name
Let's drop the big one
There'll be no one left to blame us

We'll save Australia
Don't wanna hurt no kangaroo
We'll build an All American amusement park there
They got surfin', too

Boom goes London and boom Paree
More room for you and more room for me
And every city the whole world round
Will just be another American town
Oh, how peaceful it will be
We'll set everybody free
You'll wear a Japanese kimono
And there'll be Italian shoes for me

They all hate us anyhow
So let's drop the big one now
Let's drop the big one now 

P.S. The photo above was taken 3 mil-seconds after detonation and yes, those little dots at the bottom of the beautiful cloud are houses.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

You Elusive Mistress of the Night

Where are you when I need you? I prepare for you but you disappear when I want you. You slip away into the corners as the darkness creeps in and sit there invisible laughing your silent laugh at me trying so hard.
It doesn’t seem to matter how long I wait for you or how quickly I try to enjoy your peace, you have full control over what I can and cannot secure.
Some days it seems so easy to drift away but recently you have avoided me. You hide from me in the night and don’t explain why you won’t let me rest.
Is it the cup of coffee before I sleep that is keeping you away? Do I need to go back to the habit of drowning myself before you come by? We will see tonight.
If not, I will continue to toss and turn while listening to jazz then live classical concerts interrupted by a few minutes of news. I will even try to play familiar sounds hoping the wiggle of a foot to the beat will wear me out. Occasionally I will get up, disgusted by the unavailable goal of sleep and try to wear myself out searching the blinding screen for some sense of exhaustion.
Two o’clock, three o’clock, four o’clock all past by and still the mind wander into the stream of constant thoughts. Projects, people, wonders, comments, images, and possible dreams without sleep fill the void.
As the light of the morning starts to come through the window creating as much frustration as anxiety, for some reason you come to me and allow me to drift away into darkness.
Yet you do not leave me alone. You give me dreams of remarkable images. No director or filmmaker could possible create such views and characters in tales and adventures and mysteries I could not attempt to follow but I’m along for the ride. Some faces are familiar and so many are unknown but the script has been written within and must be followed until the head is lifted from the pillow and the crusty eyes meet the brightness.
Adding up the few short naps the body feels it has had enough of the struggle and moves into the new day.
Will you come see me tonight my darkness mistress? Will you allow me rest or must I wander into the abyss without you?

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Missing You

There is a funny thing about two people when they spend a long time together. They start sharing little things together that no one else knows.
Of course there is the shared smell. Only the couple can agree on a scent that brings out a smile in both. And that special place that only they share together. Maybe it is the touch of the hand or the nape of the neck or even an ear or a touch on the leg. Even the secrets whispers at night the only two of you know.
The connecting of two pinky fingers when you say the same word at the same time can be a unique aspect of living together. When walking and separated by any object saying “Bread and butter, love each other” and then she will say, “Always” can be a personal touch that neither would have done before.
As time and distance passes, new companions and new experiences will form those secret moments but every now and then a sound or a scent or a vision will revive some unforgotten feeling.
If we recognize it or not, the accumulation of these secrets are what our relationships have made us.
Appreciate and respect them, but you do not need to share them. For they are your secrets and no one else needs to know.

Crazy Love

This looks like a good idea but in the wrong place.
Disclaimer: I don’t know who shot the photo or did the Photoshop work or even where I captured it so I can’t give credit or pay the rights to it. I look at a lot of artwork and photos but now and then one catches my eye. This was one.
Now I like the next guy likes to see a good display of PDA but I also have vertigo. Like any good voyeur I couldn’t stop looking at this picture even though it gives me the hebbie-gebbies.
Whether it is true or fake, it does acknowledge the crazy things we do for love. Moving a plant or wearing a different color shirt or attending a flower show all in hopes of getting a smooch. It is crazy I tell you. Crazy!
There are so many emotions our species share. Maybe not at the same time or about the same things, but this emotion called “Love” makes us crazy. Crazy good or crazy bad it throws out our logic and leads us into the maze of passionate confusion.
Isn’t it wonderful?

Friday, January 18, 2013

Thunder-snow Hibernation

What a week it has been. Dark dreary rainy days, filled with television and wary anticipation. Finally another project is done but now comes the warning of winter weather for real.
Constant checking of the weather radar and looking out the window, I find a break and proceed my usual route with my usual black pony to the local gathering spot to forage for grubs and stuffies since the cabinets, as good as they look, are bare. A couple cans of soup, some fruit, a spot of tea, and some pre-made pizzas, along with my medicine, are loaded but the gods have decided I should feel the season a little better.
Winding back and forth on my return there are no cute joggers or couple walking their dogs or even ground crews with their backpack blowers? Only the whipping wind and cold rain soaking through my multi-layers joins me in my ride home. Avoiding the windows into the lower world, I unpack and try to sit quietly listening to the rain. The pony, dripping from the ride, is on the porch while the yard monkeys scatter with their umbrella up picking up peanuts. This will be the only treat for the day and probably my only real reason to wander out in this frightful weather.
Note to self: These dreary days make wanton consumption of bad foods, so while my sugar cravings struck, I wandered the aisles looking at packaging and mentally tasting each treat. Can I be strong? So for lunch I had an apple strudel. It could have been worst.
The fog of my senses remembered my mother’s frantic approach to wet clothing, so I went inside the big house and changed. Looking at the pile of dirty laundry on the floor I think I need order that washer/dryer soon.
Back in the new kitchen I put the fruit and soup into an empty cabinet. I’m not even sure which way the door opens so I guess I’ll get use to it after a while but it is still all-new to me now. I could go upstairs and start being down all the boxed up stuff and start loading the cabinets, but I still like the virgin feel of the kitchen and besides, I still have to mull over in my mind where I want to put everything. There is no rush and beside I need to see when the snow is going to get here.
Into the cold damp shack I turn on the only television plugged in and check the web for current reports then delight in the little grey blurs in the yard. More tales of a white change to the constant rain keeps coming like the continuing solutions to our fiscal disasters but the window tells the truth. Even the yard boss was smart enough to stay under the house on such a messy day.
I finally give up and wander back inside looking for something to catch my attention but do not find anything so surrender to the darkness listening to the thunder.
At first light, I observe the grey fingers capped with white caps but still many untouched patches. The weight of the powder bows the bamboo and pines but the sunshine soon shakes it off.
After the second sleep with those unbelievable dreams, I awake again with wonderment of how I can think of these things. I should write them down but no one would believe them.
The streets look pretty clear so without really needing to wander out, I bring out the pony and walk to the cement. Ice lines the shadows and on two wheels that can be deadly, so I avoid the shadows. Crystals rain from the branches as the eggshells under my slow turning wheels make the usual into the unusual. It is cold now. Like winter should be.
Normal is as normal does. The same faces in the same places welcome the constant parade of characters. The couple in t-shirts and shorts discussing their beer hauls or the cute blond in those fur lined boots. Winter! I do like those boots.
Following another customer in before she stops at the weekly deal insert pile, I grab a mini-cart and turn back to the entrance. I look at her face which looks familiar yet aged surrounded in straight blond hair without an expression. I had enjoyed the view walking in but don’t think it is time to compliment so I move on to the produce. Another bag of peanuts and another bag of birdseed fill the cart. Reload and pack up. All the interesting views are gone.
The yard is enjoying the long lost sunshine and everyone is out, even in the cold. The buffet is spread and all partake. Simple pleasures for a simple mind as my little friends come up to my feet and beg for another peanut.
Chased inside by the cold, I consider my next move for hibernation but the sunshine beckons and I am too weak to resist.