Carving out a corner to post random crap.
Several sick colleagues at work today and I’m feeling headachy and a sore throat coming on. There’s only one thing that’s going to make me feel better this evening:
A Wizarding World of Harry Potter update!
Neither stress nor germ-riddled office air is going to get the best of me. I’m feeling fortified already.
http://media.universalorlando.com/harrypotter/assets/player/player.swf
To whom have you recently written a letter? Did you sit down at a desk, straighten a stack of paper, and allowed the pen to channel your most intimate thoughts? Was there enough postage to be found in your desk drawer? Can you still read your own handwriting?
I’ve long ago stopped writing letters. I used to enjoy the regular trade of mail between friends and family. Pretty stationery and note cards were always a favorite gift, and I couldn’t wait to start writing on fresh sheets of rag bond to destinations near and far. Time and technology have changed my habits considerably. I’m still fond of correspondence, but keystrokes and smartphones have replaced looking for that just-the-right-size envelope. Although I am trying to pop notes off more frequently via post, I know I’ll never go back to the days of keeping ribbon adorned boxes of scalloped edge stationery. For that, I feel a twinge of nostalgia and the underpinnings of sadness.
Read more about the campaign at Save The Children.
Letting my eyes shift out of focus.
Closing the door on coherency.
Images of muddy water infiltrate my mind.
Rust speaks.
I just wasn’t in much of a luau mood today at my company picnic. There were too many emails about dressing Hawaii-style and showing up at the county park at noon sharp (or else no Dickey’s for you!) The lowlights included my husband experiencing excruciating back pain, middle-of-the-week deadlines that wait for no amount of barbecue, and Mr. Anxiety paying a visit amid unfamiliar faces and sack races. My husband and I stayed long enough to eat lunch and take a stroll down by the lake. Since I’m a crap horseshoe flinger, I snapped pictures instead of a few of the locals. It was a nice way to digest the meat fest and shake off a looming panic attack. I got a bit of sun and a whole lot of wind before heading back to the office (which, by the way, was a ghost town for the rest of the afternoon.) I relished the peace and quiet and managed to meet two of those deadlines that contributed to my anxiousness. Now I can tackle Thursday’s business without any messy Wednesday spillover.
Please view, review, and vote favorably, too, Ange Fitzgerald’s portfolio. It would make her sister-in-law (that would be me) most happy.
Gracias!
It’s in the patterns that I get lost
Take too many steps in the right direction
And familiar lines become untraceable
Safety provides a sanctuary
That suffocates the questioning heart
The bending of my will
Shifts the patterns into borrowed images
Sprawled upon a field of white
Pathways and corridors fill the space
Between my next breath and your stifled cry
It’s in the patterns that you’ll find me
Clinging to the repetition that soothes and lulls
And makes dull the edge that once silenced all fear
Picklegoon was out for a walk one day. He was humming Baby Baby Baby Oh. He was hoping he wouldn’t run into cobras since cobras are no fans of Justin Bieber. I guess this isn’t Picklegoon’s lucky day.
What should Picklegoon hum instead?
p.s. This was written by an 8 year old. Write comments below.
This is just the beginning. I have many branches to trace before my tree is in full bloom. I’ve experienced varying degrees of enthusiasm and diligence over the years tracking down information on people with whom I share a common ancestry. Bits of paper and faded photographs are stowed away in boxes and only see the light of day when I get the itch to start digging. I am currently in one of those itchy phases.
Below is my work-in-progress. You can enlarge the text somewhat by clicking on either of the two sections. Hopefully it’s big enough for a passerby to identify a name or two. If you happen to be a long lost relation, or no relation at all, please leave a comment. Together we might be able to add a leaf or bough to this sprawling tree of life.
Semi-Daily Scribbles 