Shiny Things

When you should be writing, there are just so many bright and shiny things.

Expanded Metaphor

Cut the head off of a snake, then, ya know, eat the meat and make a belt out of the skin.

END TRANSMISSION

1st Degree Bunnycide?

The coroner’s ruling was death by misadventure. Garbage is a dangerous business.

Primitive Trail

Once you pass Sleeping Bear Rock,

you find the ferns and giant leaf plants.

You are getting closer to dinosaur country.

You have to be careful of the whip-branch trees

and the fungal slime molds.

Or maybe an oh-mah, passing from butte to butte

will distract you.

There has to be a living fossil out there someplace off the trail, or the logging road.

Maybe up around Cougar Rock.

Stories

It is okay to live your own story. But be aware that some people are going to be offended by it because it interfers with their story. Culture based story wars are not healthy for people and other living creatures. They even leave scars on stone.

Daedalum

It was an early spring way to get the kid outside, the addleds too.  I thought I was going to a jumping castle. I have done some light projects in my life, but who knew that there was something called a luminarium.  I want one for my backyard!  I don’t have a backyard of my own to play in.  I have to play in other people’s yards on their sufferance-level.  I did enjoy this game.

Broken Treasures VII

Number 7 in glass studies in shape and color. Cobalt blue, red, and solarized glass (desert glass). I finally found the last spritz of purpling glass. I imagine putting this in direct sun for another 10 years, it will just get a darker purple.

Homestead

The house is gone, but the lilacs still bloom. The tilled furrows run right up to the farm’s landscaping. I imagine that the fields are still in the family line somehow.

In town, the lilacs catch the eye because they are a single bunch against a concrete retaining wall.

Out Buildings

I don’t know why it took me forty years to finally get around to taking a picture of this barn. Maybe out buildings are an aquired taste?

It is now in the hopper of maybe a rough sketch some day.

The Flood

I have been around the creek many times when it jumped its bank.  I have seen the gravel bars left over in the Channeled Scablands.  If I am in an ancestor worshipping mood, we have all taken a boat ride somewhere along the line.

But my favorite flood was back in ninety-six.  I think that is because I had to work it.

Sandbagging is pretty useless, but I suppose it keeps people busy.  Seems to me, you need to pay attention to the water line way before it starts to move up.  Because when the water starts to rise, institutions, like people, are really interested in their own self interests.  People who work for institutions at those points are caught between a rock and a hard place.  They need to watch their own assets because institutions are busy trying to cover their own.

The sandbagging generally is governed by a bunch of dicks who weren’t paying attention.  I have been trying to read Inheduanna lately.  Mother Nature, Inanna, I am trying to take the word no more seriously and listen better.  Like everybody else, I have limited senses.

                “It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.”

The power of advertising is a dangerous power.