Friday, June 29, 2012

Wood day

8 cords, delivered.  3 cords more or less, left from last year.  Nice view from the kitchen roof, though.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Last night, in a fit of laziness and familiarity,  I tried to go down the steep back stairs in the dark rather than use a flashlight or turn on the light at the top of the stairs.  At the bottom I missed the last step before the landing and narrowly missed creating a new door to the outside.  Nothing broken, but it annoyed the knee, the ankle, and put more stress on my hip than anyone with osteo likes to contemplate.  But still upright, as they say, and still breathing. 

In thinking about that, I am once again reminded how quickly a single incident or misplaced focus can change our lives, sometimes forever.  A fall on the ice, and you end up with a fractured hip.  Turning right at a busy intersection you are rear ended by someone who is more interested in texting than driving, thereby shortcircuiting whatever was going to happen next and altering a great chunk of your life in the process.  And his.  Taking the corner on your favorite walk and see, coming toward you, someone from your distant past. 

And, of course, there are those minor things we do that alter, at least on a temporary basis, the patterns we have sewn into our brain, like inner pockets on a winter coat.  Turn left instead of right, and you avoid that accident entirely, and never know it even might have happened;  take a new route to work, get hopelessly lost, and in the process lose a lucrative contract,  one which could have helped you pay off the last of your mortgage.

We can't know what might happen, and can't live our lives in dread or anticipation of every turn, every step, every encounter.  I don't hold with the "pre-planned ' life in which we have no control over anything (and which, after all, turns us into nothing more than stage actors reading scripts),  I guess all you can do is remember to turn the lights on at the top of the stairs and pay attention on the way down.  No matter where it leads.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Archives 2


POEMS AND APPLE TREES HAVE A LOT IN COMMON

Prune to keep the center open
to light and air,
cut away anything that does not bear fruit
remove every branch crossing another
and all water shoots
that might appear.

A fruiting branch is always doing
something besides what it’s doing
at the moment. Cut away
this year’s blossom and you’ve killed
next year’s fruit waiting just behind the bud.

At any point step back, consider
any cut you plan to make, reconsider
how the thing will look with one less branch.
Every cut redefines the tree,
the blossom, and the fruit
it will bear next fall.



Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Question of the Day

Why do people slow at a green light?  Do they think it might suddenly turn red?
I will admit to now and then stopping for one, to let it cross the street,  but generally I prefer to take my chances with it, and sail right on through. 

Monday, June 18, 2012

Google strikes again

nine days ago I asked a simple question in the forums.  It's still sitting there waiting to be noticed.
So.  I contacted AskGoogle Answers.  oh boy, they said, we can answer this.  For $28.  I don't think so.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

from the archives



SOFTLY, SOFTLY

this is the way the world truly ends
not with a whimper or a cry
but a sound of regret of the kind you make
when you see the car slide over the cliff
and there's nothing you can do
but be glad you got the dog out
even though you lost all your luggage
this is the way the world ends
not with a bang but with the sound
of a door closing softly against the frame
and you only know it's shut by turning the knob
finding it locked from the other side

this is the way worlds end sometimes
with all the finality of breaking glass
in the next room and you don't know what broke
but you've got a pretty good idea
who'll have to clean it up later 

sometimes it's entropy that does us in
everything grinding to a halt
everyone glad when it's over
the books divided up, drapes taken down
the for sale sign removed at last
but sometimes it's sharper, like the cut
from a good knife and you don't even know
you're bleeding until you look down
and then it starts to hurt
and you know it will hurt until it stops
and there's not a damn thing
you or anyone else can do but wait it out
hold on tightly until the bleeding stops
and then not move until the throbbing stops
not look until the cut heals
and you're left with only a little scar on the outside
turning white and beginning to fade

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Washday scraps

My new washer came with a stern injunction to never ever never wash clothes that have been badly doused with cooking oil.  The reason given, "it could catch fire". 

Yes, indeed. Open the lid and there are all those clothes sloshing away, burning merrily...

Monday, June 11, 2012

This is what happens...

when you let what wants to grow, grow there.  This is truly a wildflower garden  right now,  with columbine, wild mustard, and clover and even a bit of vetch, as long as it behaves itself.  

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Monday, June 4, 2012

Folks is strange

You gotta love tech forums.  We have been stravaging about the net trying to find a solution to a problem we had been having with the new graphics card, which performed very well except when I hit Worlds of Warcraft, and it would regularly boot me from the game.  It's called a minidump, and you get a nasty bit of blue screen commentary and various other things that turn out to be related to one small bit of the chip misfiring in some way.  I posted, first, the questions about it,  and finally the fact that we solved the problem by removing the card entirely.

On two different forums I have been met with outrage, sarcasm, and thinly veiled hostility and I have no idea why.  It's kinda funny, because only one person suggested just removing or changing the chip.  Both suggest (still) that I should uninstall everything and start over. Oh, I don't think so.    And what is interesting, no one has said, good job, Im glad you solved the problem.  *g*

Friday, June 1, 2012

skunks

Woke up somewhere in the middle of the night with the odor of arguing skunks wafting through the open windows (although skunkiness can waft through solid concrete, if it chooses), so I went down and closed the cat door both ways, shut all the windows, and came back to bed.  The smell is still out there this morning so either a skunk is lying dead somewhere within a hundred mile radius, or the skunk or skunks left their mark on the old fallen timbers of the barn.  Which means we will have it forever.  Better than under the porch, or out in the shed, for sure. 

I often wonder what one does if a skunk DOES get into the house.  Flee?  Hope he remembers how he got in so he can get out?