Quite the Life (and all in Times New Roman 10pt!)
Sometimes things get hectic.
Some nights things get very hectic.
Not as hectic as they could be or have been. Once we had over twenty raccoons in our backyard, all with forelegs across their chests, tapping their little raccoon feet, while we put out dog food, peanuts, cookies, and assorted other treats for them.
One night we had fox, raccoon, opossum, skunk, coyote, … it was Grand Central.
We loved it.
But this night it was raccoons only.
Maybe it was a union thing. We don’t know.
Enjoy.
My first rumination can be found at Ruminations Part I – “Your eyes are completely healed”
My second at Ruminations Part 2 – Numbers lead to informed decisions
Rumination Part 3-1 is Ruminations Part 3 – Sensitivity Readers, Part 1
Rumination Part 3-2 is Ruminations Part 3 – Sensitivity Readers, Part 2
Rumination Part 3-3 is Ruminations Part 3 – Sensitivity Readers, Part 3 – I Take a “Writing the Other” class
Rumination Part 3-4 is Ruminations Part 3 – Sensitivity Readers, Part 4 – Is your character POC or POM?
Ruminations Part 4 is Ruminations Part 4 – I can’t talk to women anymore
Ruminations Part 5 is Ruminations Part 5 – Joseph Carrabis (was/could be/might have been) (Personal Pronouns in Fun and Earnest)
Ruminations Part 6 is Ruminations Part 6 – Professionalize this, Buddy
Early last month on a Saturday morning I lay in bed on my right side, covers over my head to keep the light out, curled up in a foetal ball, and discovered a deeper reason, and as yet unknown reason, I wanted to be a bestselling author for as long as I can remember.
I remembered reading Skylark Three. I’m not sure what triggered the memory, exactly. It came unbidden. A happenstance of the senses: the position, the pain, hiding under the covers. A forgotten spirit summoned by the incantation of the moment.
And now a warning: Hold on, dear Readers. We’re going for a ride. Best leave now if you have no interest.
Continue reading “Ruminations Part 7 – Stop looking where you shouldn’t be looking”
I’ve written repeatedly poetry is not my go-to form and still they come unbidden.
Let me know what you think.
Bright Light.
She couldn’t get over how bright.
Not painful, just amazing.
She remembered some movie, some furry little thing shouting “Bright Light! Bright Light!”
Was that a Furbie? A troll? A little shit? Some kind of televidic excrement?
Didn’t matter.
But this light.
Where was she?
She couldn’t remember.
What was the last thing she could remember?
She laughed.
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There’s nothing quite like a boy’s night out, eh?
Males in the audience, remember those wonderful bonding times? The fun you had?
Neither do I.
My experiences of western society’s male bonding rituals are probably what led me into cultural anthropology with a vengeance.
Every culture I studied had male rituals. Often they were initiation rituals. There were bonding rituals, yes, and they were vastly different than their western cultural counterparts.
For one, nobody got hurt. There was never a one-ups-manship. Male bondings were more educational than hierarchical.
That last part – hierarchical – have to be careful with that. Put any group of people together and a hierarchy forms. One person alone will form an internal hierarchy, a bifurcation (if not more) of their personality. You’ve probably done the same thing without knowing it.
Ever had an argument with yourself?
Welcome to being human.
Not sure what caused this one to come out. It’s still a work in progress.
Let me know what you think.
I picked a book from the carousel, something to read on the beach. I prefer the feel of a real book and, thanks to years of training and working in the field, I know “I prefer the feel of a real book” tells the reader so much about me. Just about everything you need to know if you’re paying attention.
My son, Jeremy, laughs at such statements. He has his ereader. Nook? Kindle? Android? Phone? I’ve lost track, he has so many devices. I’ll have read four to five pages by the time he’s found what he’s looking for on his various devices.
You would have thought my son would be more organized. I don’t mind him using devices, but for Chrissake organize yourself.
I’ve noticed that about younger people. They lack some rudimentary skills and my memory at twice his age is better than his. I remember where he put things better than he does, and they’re his things!
But a good book, a good cigar, a solid wooden beach chair with canvas strappings and a foldover shade to keep you out of the sun. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
The little bell over the door jingled and I looked up.
I know her. Or knew her. Couldn’t place her name. But my pulse quickened. Her, I remembered.
Greetings! I’m your friendly, neighborhood Threshold Guardian. This is a protected post. Protected posts in the My Work, Marketing, and StoryCrafting categories require a subscription (starting at 1$US/month) to access. Protected posts outside those categories require a General (free) membership.
Members and Subscribers can LogIn. Non members can join. Non-protected posts (there are several) are available to everyone.
Want to learn more about why I use a subscription model? Read More ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes Enjoy!