Noticeable Changes To Say The Least

 

So I double click and the screen diminishes to nothing or call it two by two size…. meaning it got really small, then I pulled the sides out to fill the screen back up and the type is tiny. There’s got to be a type size adjustment somewhere to fix this… but I’m not running across it, something that doesn’t stop me from thinking:

I’m Rubber, You’re Glue. What You Say Bounces Off Me And Sticks To You

Hmmm, a possible title… and childhood blast from the past. How nice if we could hold that same innocence when someone’s not being nice and move on from there. A simple refusal to listen to this with a big hint let’s move on; better yet should they respond, “no I’m rubber you’re glue…” which is usually how the conversation went if I recall, “no I said it first”… and it’s over especially if you wanted to get back to what you were doing.

 

Kids are natural sages for sure.

 

Coffee. Finally got some half n’ half. Coffee definitely. Why? Not that I need a reason.

Up @ 3:30-ish with the first wash going. Love the rates this time of day and it’s cool enough for the door to be open and wearing a pair of sweats. The coffee I just had filling the room with its fragrance so I’m compelled to make more. Fall is coming, autumnal equinox, and my birthday. My grandmother’s was September 3rd; if she were alive she’d be 117.

 

What else?

 

Waiting for daybreak to head out for a few things. Wash my face, brush my teeth, get the list together and choose a save-the-planet grocery tote so I’m ready to go.

 

A good day, no two ways about it.

 

 

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Kids

 

Margaret-Anne spotted a bullet on the ground next to her grandfather’s shed. She picked it up, her little brother saw and came running. “Can we hit the back?” She thought about it. Being the older sister she was wiser. “It’ll explode. Dad might hear. He’ll take it.” She held it eye level. They talked about laying it on its side and hitting the back so it would shoot forward. Dad wouldn’t see that. He’d be proud they were so smart. “It won’t if we hit it with a rock” Geoff pleaded figuring the rock would smash it if it didn’t work. Simple enough. “Ok. Find a rock, let’s see if we can make it shoot” but dad who’d been standing on the other side of the shed overheard everything and walked around to them.

He took it out of her hand holding it for both of them to see. “If you succeed you could blow up your finger” he explained and then continued with how bullets are made, the physics behind why it’d explode that way, how they work best with guns unless there’s a problem causing them to backfire, the details of guns backfiring, so…  it’s best left in the hands of grownups. Satisfied with his lesson and knowing he’d impressed them he placed the bullet back into her hand, turned to walk to the house trusting them with it oblivious to the fact he’d lost both of them after 15 seconds of his lecture, which for kids is a pretty good attention span. He’d also fueled Margaret-Anne’s interest. She couldn’t wait for him to stop talking. Giddy because he hadn’t taken it away making it better than Christmas, she turned to her brother who’d almost fallen asleep standing there.

“Find a rock.”

As they turned focusing on the ground for the best rock, Margaret-Anne’s heart sinking a little because there weren’t that many rocks around the shed but didn’t want to let her brother down so she was thinking where else they could look, neither one noticed flabbergasted dad had spun around and was hastening in their direction.

 

Friendly Ghosts

“I wanted to give him vitamins

Yes I did

Don’t let me forget”

She sat staring at the salt lamp glow

For no apparent reason

No

She sat staring at the salt lamp glow

Was it because of Jimmy Stewart in that movie

He quoted Neruda throughout

“I had a book of his works”

She’d thought as she watched wishing it were still around

Or had recollection of what had happened to it

Did she leave it behind somewhere

“What am I watching

The lamp doesn’t move

Though improving quality of air”

She sat with that sleepy stare

And nothing has to rhyme either

Still she sat

“I want to give him vitamins, get up”

As she fixed her typos from two hands of thumbs

“May be a sign, no, it is a sign

Stop

Make a breakfast smoothie too”

That was it

She got up

 

Propaganda And Peace Treaties

Did the AC kick on? Is that me? Gee, I hope not, I’ve the door open and the fan on to let fresh air in to clear my head, unstuff my nose from artificial cool, so I get up and wander through listening. It’s everyone else outside as all units kicked in but mine. Good. Let’s see how far into the morning I can go before the door must be closed and the AC gets to play. For now birds chirp loud and clear, land on the wood rail looking for stale bread… word got around I leave stuff out from time to time. You just never know when.

And so the morning begins, the sky brightens a bit, cool breeze on my legs and an espresso before it’s too hot out to drink it. Of course, nothing wrong with it iced.

That reminds me…

Iced coffee might seem simple, even as a request in a café but not everywhere. I was teaching in Istanbul and of course frequented the local Starbucks, a prestigious place for coffee according to many Turks. One day I ordered an iced espresso, an item not on the list of coffees served. To my surprise I totally confused the two baristas behind the counter. It was easier for them to think I was a buffoon who didn’t know her coffee than for them to add ice to my espresso. My best charades getting us nowhere I wasn’t much better toward them totally aghast they couldn’t fulfill my simple request. I got it hot and we parted making cranky faces at each other. The next time I went the lightbulb was on. I ordered espresso, then asked for a cup of ice. Easy. They were wondering what I was doing but I had made two understandable requests exclusive of each other. First I added sugar to the hot beverage then took the espresso and poured it over the ice. I raised my cup and smiled big, they looked with delighted surprise at the cup, then each other laughing. They told their manager about it. After that it was put on the menu: Iced Coffee.

We were temporarily lost in translation, no more than that resulting in a chip being made in the language barrier, a hand extended toward getting along. Good business I think.

IMG_2947

 

Well, Well, Well… July 2017

Sun, quiet, changed the calendars to the new month while it was still dark, think I’ll make the rounds and see what the new picture is on each. From here I see a new recipe with what resembles biscuits on the kitchen wall, and a ship at sea in the living room … the other two should have a forest scene and an island beach.

BRB…

Well, the biscuits are crab cakes, the ship is on the way to Galápagos, the scene is in a meadow this time with brilliant yellow birds alighting on wild flowers and the beach is Saint-Tropez… was it Coppertone that boasted the Saint-Tropez tan? Could’ve sworn the jingle rhymed with Saint-Tropez … yup, Bain de Soleil. Google is so damned convenient.

 

She looks a little pale to me. Do they make that stuff anymore… Wow, 1983… I’d graduated from high school 11 years ago already. How’s that for vernacular? I was 28.

28…

My son was 5, my daughter not a thought yet. With what I know now, she was impatiently waiting…

 

 

 

Saying Good Morning While Going Sub-Atomic At March’s End 2017 Or Saying Good Morning And Philosophy As The Devil, Date Remains

 

Can I have both within logical parameters?

 

A new year with resolution and purpose, I think it still is. Haven’t lost determination and what I’d like to accomplish. That being said,

 

Did you know way back when I was an undergraduate I’d embarked on writing a dictionary beginning with O probably because for some strange reason I was thinking of an old porn movie or that wasn’t it at all. It would never have, actually will never get published not because I need a publisher but with those few words I began with I realized as I keep/kept (this is why I’ve always preferred the Perfect Tense in Latin – it is past but represents an action that’s still alive unlike simple past that cuts everything off as a door nailed shut) defining things I’ll never get finished. There’s always something to define, always the next thought. Then it’s not in alphabetical order. So after defining things to infinity which means I’ll be defining in the next life when this one’s through and, when it’s put in alphabetical order it won’t follow my thought and purpose for why I’m defining these things and I’ll be creating chaos with unconnected words with no purpose for meaning the greater good having been lost.

 

Let me show you.

 

 

A Dictionary Beginning With O

 

Orgy – functionalistic state of multiple realizabilities

 

Functionalistic – having a purpose physical/mental, mind/mental, physical/mind, mental/mind, physical/physical, mental/mental, mind/mind, unless serving a purpose: ibid and resulting in purpose

 

State – condition individual and collective, an entity comprised of people inhabiting a specific physical area in nature as in a geologic location, and entity comprised of people of similar mind, an entity comprised of people of similar physical condition, a condition comprised of people who are joined in similar mind, a condition of people disjoined in dissimilar mind resulting in chaos

 

Realizabilities – inherent natures of people to translate perception to the objective, natural analysis of form (real: genuine/true, eyes: instruments of perception, able: possibility)

 

Multiple – more than one representation, image, intuition, action (imago, imitatio, admonere) similar to:

Juxtaposition – an alignment (just suppose) using a:

Quantified Variable – the nature of substantial flexibility, of being, versatile integration

 

Integration – a condition of integrity

 

 

You get the picture. I could go on and on. With each word of each definition I keep defining, as more cultures add to language meaning changes, definition is added, as a writer job security never ends, and as a student of philosophy I always have something to talk about.

 

 

 

What Inspires

 

 

Inspirationless not

At peace is what it is

And I understand why

When dirges stop

It’s necessary to have a clothing line

 

Or something else to fall back on

 

But I’m not that kind of famous

So what will I do?

Guess I’ll keep writing

Through hell, high water

Peace on earth

 

For what it’s worth

 

The dryer just stopped

Those clothes I’ll get

Espresso by my side

Grandson in view

Sun shining through though rain was predicted

 

What do they know?

As they say

I’m not worried

Did I tell you I finally ended the dragon game?

What a bust

 

Guess it wasn’t prepared for the level I’d gained

Or winning all leagues

What can I say?

There’s none like me

Really for that matter like you

 

Lazy Saturday

Can’t go wrong

Hey think I still have cartoons

On a VHS tape

Means I still have a player

 

Saturday can’t get better

 

 

It Wasn’t THAT Long Ago

 

1976 meant the bicentennial and marriage. We drove to Disney World without a second thought – nor preparation for that matter – and parked at the Contemporary Resort. In we strolled. “Do you have a reservation?” “No.” “OK, we have a room…” Yes, we were able to get a room, paid $50, left our suitcases in elegance and caught the monorail to a world of wonder. At night there were spectacular fireworks to celebrate becoming… well, other stuff too.

 

I don’t think you can just pull in to Disney World nowadays and find a room without a reservation… for only 50 bucks.

 

 

 

100wcgu-7

 

 

http://juliasplace.org.uk/100wcgu/what-do-you-remember-about-1976/

 

 

Prompt: “…looking back, I remember…”

 

What do you remember about 1976?

 

100wcgu #186 (100 Word Challenge For GrownUps)

 

 

Geniune

Defining Genuine

 

Relaxing, finally, at a genuine bakery with a New York staple – the buttered roll. What took her so long to find this place especially after all the times she’d walk by it over the past two years like she did yesterday no less! (Ok, a string of thoughts in the present, sitting here now.) It said bakery in the name. Thank goodness the light finally clicked on. “All those days pining for something that no other café offered, yet all the while this one did. All their sweet junk, gooey iced scones – blasphemy!” Of course the cappuccino was American size, a small soup bowl that beats a large coffee mug any day, too much milk, but it was good enough not to need sugar sprinkled over the top. “I do like the sugar…” Working her way through froth what Ruth could taste of the coffee wasn’t so bad. It sure wasn’t New York but it’d do.

 

“Take small things when they come around. The time! Better stop writing, got to get to work.”

 

She put the iPad away.