Weblog 31

August 27, 2006~ 1:15am
I'd like to start this week off by sharing what I consider a perfectly plausible conception of "God"-

...........

Note the 'aloofness'- the mysterious silver eyes that might be seeing everything- might be seeing nothing at all, but no one could argue this creature does not inspire 'awe'. And when I think about God with his apparent non-interference in the way we abuse and butcher each other, I'd say this is a perfectly reasonable image of the deity for a person to adopt. He's cold bloodedly indescribable. Beautiful, certainly.

Now imagine him as big as Saturn. Yes.......
now you're getting the picture.

Actually, this is a marvelous photo from one of my newest favorite websites which I will link here- as well as add to my page of favorite links on Karisma. What a TALENT this lady has for capturing creatures in this 'third eye'way, with such strange glory the viewer can only see them as 'Uber Beings'- takes my breath away, it does.

And yes, I did have my birthday dinner at my daughter's on Friday. Homemade meatloaf, potatoes au gratin, salad and chocolate cake for dessert- (which little Kay both 'donned' and ate.) Bill was the recipient of the Po doll that I'd promised him two weeks ago, new batteries in his belly and his red antennaed head inspired happy squeals as I got out of the car. (Thank God I didn't forget to bring him as I had last week. Bill called me at work to remind me, and had me laughing. My daughter got on the line to say that Bill hoped I'd remember because-- "when Grandma forgets, she says "DAMMIT!" lol)

I can see what a cuss I'll become one day should happen to develop Alzheimer's--I'll turn the air blue! They'll have to ship me off with sailors- for that will be the only company where my salty tongue will not offend.

Memo to self: Little jugs have big ears. And long memories.

Watch the mouth.

August 27, 2006~ 9:45pm
I wish someone could explain to me how 74 degrees for a high can be a misery, but it was. I guess all it took was a line of carpet-bombing storms rolling through, one after the other, to keep a humid lid on things that never lifted all the livelong day.

It's still pukey warm outside at 71 and moist, moist, moist. My bedroom window air conditioner (if it's able to handle this humidity at all) is gonna gurgle all night like someone with a sore throat who's gargling with saltwater. LOL! Oh, lordy-- autumn, autumn with your coolness and your misty mornings, giving in to clear and crisp afternoons, how I miss you on days like this, these damp kleenex days that wilt away to nothing except uncomfortable memories of squirming, trying to not to mind.

Gathering the week's garbage here and then heading up to my gargling bedroom, reading the last 25 pages of a 900+ book. I hate to see it end, but then I have 4 others on my nightstand who've been coughing over the gargling, "A-hem! Look at me, look at me..." and I shall. Very soon your snazzy new backs will be broken, crumbs fallen into the center crease, and the greasy leavings of some jammy treat will festoon your corners-- and then you'll be sorry! Just don't fall into the pie pan propped on my belly, please.

(Whoops!- looks like that secret's out.)

August 29, 2006~ 7:15pm
Is it another day? I swear to god (that gecko shown above)- with this weather- every day flows seamlessly, wearyingly, stultifyingly into the next. 75. Take your pick, night or day. 95 percent humidity. Again, just go ahead and pick night or day, Monday through Friday. This sort of this feels 'ordeal-ish' to me, seeing what it'll take to make me crack. I feel like Rod Steiger in "The Illustrated Man" as an astronaut on the planet with constant rain. Beat, beat, beating on my space helmet, driving me slowly insane.

Reading "Graveyard"- a small book of the haunting in Union Cemetery a few miles away from Monroe, where the authors, Ed and Lorraine Warren live- (or rather, Lorraine lives now. Poor Ed passed away on August 23rd. Wonder if his theories have proven true now that he's passed on to the other side.) Makes it feel weird reading about how he talks to the dead- and now he is. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust, and all our questions will one day be answered I suppose- but in the meantime- it sure is interesting to poke around in those gauzy, misty places. Have a look at these two. Married 62 years and having pursued together something they both absolutely loved- I'd call that a success story.

Ed and Lorraine Warren

Rest in peace, Ed. (Or maybe now's the time to get active. Stop by my place and we'll have a chat. I'll put on a pot of coffee, light the candles and you can give me all the dope on where you are now.....) - "Second star to the right, and straight on till Morning."


August 30, 2006~ 5:15am
Today is an 'all company' meeting at the local Holiday Inn. So they will come from the far vales and hinterlands, come dragging sleepy morning heads into an accordion-pleat-walled meeting room and sidle up to the coffee urn. The GREAT news, is that it's a BREAKFAST BUFFET!!--bacon, eggs, fresh fruit, danish, toast, you NAME it, it's there. Yum! I'm sitting here in my ratty nightgown, half awake and SALIVATING! You want my attention? FEED ME! LOL...

It's 2 hours less constant typing, and an opportunity to relax while the food endorphins kick in and hear a health report about how we're all doing, and I love these things. Very gracious bosses- nice place to work (albeit slavishly..lol) but man, I could be digging DITCHES....with no breakfast. Off I go to wash the sleep out of my eyes and put on some gladrags. Hope you have some food in you, too. Breakfast! The most important meal of the day! WHEEEEE- HAH!


August 30, 2006~ 11:35pm
Yes, breakfast was EXCELLENT! I can't compliment those cooks at the Holiday Inn enough- perfect sausage patties, tender, onion-y homefries, scrambled eggs WITH cheese....I was in heaven. (And a dullard for the rest of the day. lol...food will ruin your brain, ya know. Hey....maybe that's what happened to THIS guy!)



I strongly suspect this man has had a MIND-NUMBING amount of food. Either that, or there's an unfamiliar rattle of a thought going on in there....."It's real disturbin', Dad. It's like a little commie is runnin' around my skull yellin', "think! think!" I have ta say I don't like it one bit! I need a vacation. Good thing there's another hurricane a' comin'--I need to get back to the ranch and relax."

There. Now I can sleep. It's a year since Katrina hit and damn- I just needed to hit BACK. But you know, it's not satisfying to pick on imbeciles because that small fire in the eyes just doesn't wink on. Nope. No flame in there at all.


September 01, 2006~ 9:30pm
Three days off! A long Labor day weekend ahead and no obligations. No picnics, no get togethers and much sleep and resting. Ahhhhhhh....my kind of holiday.

We were at my daughter's for pizza tonight, and I learned that 3 year old Bill will be starting pre-school the week after next. This is big stuff! It must be the thing now, but the teachers come to the home to meet each new little 'student' and get a feel for what they are like. (They 'grill'- but gently.) She asked Bill what his favorite food was and he said, "Indian food." LOL!!, he than lured her into his bedroom for 20 mintues of non-stop chat. (THAT one's gonna be a lady-killer some day.)

I asked Bill what his teacher's name is and he said, "Mr. Story". (He makes no gender distinctions. He is socially enlightened.) I asked what color Mr. Story's eyes were and Bill said 'blue'. I asked if her hair was long or short, and he said 'short'. I asked if she was dark-haired or blonde like Mommy. "Mr. Short has dark hair."

He then showed me a giant gingerbread man made out of orange construction paper that he was asked to decorate with things he likes. As of now there are the cut out and pasted faces of the singing group 'Depeche Mode'- as well as the black 'feather guy' (as Bill calls him) from one of the covers of their albums- and a picture of a Tonka truck. I'd say that about covers it.

And what about this lame ass, new Republican stance of boorish bullying and bluster yet again. Don't they understand we're tired of speech writers shaping national policy-- and 'no' George, you nincompoop- this Islamic tide of anti-Americanism is NOT the NEW FACISM: YOU are the new facism, you putz. I hope all those knee-jerk flag-wavers don't rally round the Republican 'stars and bars' once again, and think the man is SAYING anything, other than political gobblety-goop and inciting to riot. Those unthinking Bush-a-trons have gotten a lot of Americans killed- and stranded thousands upon thousands of others there (not THEIR sons, of course, but Americans-- after all) so I think it's safe to say this new spate of bullshit is a last ditch effort to save their lame duck asses, but I also have to say that this resurrected, chest-pounding strong line on terrorism is in fact more of the same idiocy they've employed from the beginning.

Here is a picture of "Repubican Terrorist Tactics"- I call it: putting out fire with gasoline





And God help us. When will they learn that rhetoric is not morality- hopefully before they kill off all our children.

(Theirs, of course, will still be heading to Harvard in the fall.)



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