Open On Monday

Everyone’s gone missing. The streets seem to be rolled up. Kids are out of school. Santa’s coming.
Walmart and Denny’s are full. They ain’t nobody’s fool.
Must be a lemming thing — everybody else is going that way.
Seems like an opportunity to make a killing if nobody else is open but you are. Except that — nobody that is looking for something that is open is looking for something to be open on Monday because they’ve been conditioned too and they also stay off of the rolled-up roads except the roads that go to Walmart and Denny’s on Mondays.
It would seem that if someone loves something enough, having Christmas off, or Mondays, would be a good excuse to do that thing they love. Maybe they don’t love it like they say they do and they’re just in it to win it or make a lot of money.
Vlog, Blog and Facebook heroes have closed shop except to say, “Have a Merry Whatever” as they look back while running to get away until the new year comes and they are expected back to promote their new adventure for new moneymaking.
Where is everyone when you need them the most — like lonely-making holidays and Mondays.
Do it every day. Every day do it if you love it. Especially if you’ve made money doing it because you’ve made that money because of others and those others might not be on vacation. Some fans quit a thing that leaves them.
That’s one reason holidays are depressing because anyone that does have family and/or friends goes in and leaves all the lonely ones who don’t alone, out in the cold, on their own — looking for the fix that kept them going — watching how others do to get some inspiration. There is probably a huge market for off-market drugs Christmases and Mondays.
It might just be the right time to figure out exactly how to be alone any day, but especially on Christmases and Mondays because that is a practice that might just save you — especially from yourself and all the complications of a brain that doesn’t have a place to project the thoughts upon — they stay in the brain instead and try to cause a lot of havoc. Practice, practice, practice getting good at doing any holiday or Monday all alone. Or any day for that matter and then friends and family coming by will be a bonus and wonderful surprise and light up the sky and then you’ll have that kind of havoc to try to manage.
Just imagine the havoc it would create if Santa decided to not show up for Christmas because it fell on Monday.

Box Of Chocolates

Is there any way to keep from eating the whole box of chocolates when there’s no one else around except for not getting the box of chocolates in the first place?

Perhaps some people have a sense of self-control.

Maybe if the box was buried in the back yard every time a piece was eaten. Probably not unless the shovel was buried too.

How to bury a shovel without another shovel is the trouble.

Would dirty fingernails be enough of a deterrent? Only if there isn’t any hot or cold running or rain-harvested water and a towel or nail clippers.

Maybe a zipper with a lock and key and the key could be left with a friend who would likely end up as an enemy if they didn’t give the key back for the asking in a hurry.

And there is always scissors if the bag isn’t metal mesh and if it is metal mesh, tin snips might just do the trick.

It’s hopeless.

It’s just better to leave the box of chocolates at the store and hope a friend doesn’t bring one as a gift.

There is always hoping that a friend isn’t listening and they do.


Disappeared The Wall

There was a certain way the sun came in through the blinds from the east in the earlier hours of the morning — more exposure like one was on display in a cage — the light disappeared the wall — not that anyone was outside looking in but the room was lit like it was waiting for a performer — and all the colors seemed to be imported from Cuba.


Remembering how the beach would change throughout a day and by the time the day’s play was completed, the beach no longer held its charm — it was a better time for going home.

Earlier light is better on a beach for playing.

Inside the living room, where the big window is that gets the earlier east, stage-like lighting at this low-lying light stage of winter season, it is better after the sun goes, or the earth moves so that the beam is on the roof. But it was still a stillness that was beautiful — watching waking — it just seemed like the sun could see something it might not ought to — her soul perhaps.

Then the birds came for scratching dirt and then after them a stray to leave his mark where others had been before him. Thank goodness the birds were gone by then.

The exposure went too quickly even though its ability to see was disconcerting. It was like a new friend — someone different — someone with new words to hear. She would have made a record except that whatever words there were went by before a record could be made except for this.

She’ll try again tomorrow if too much hasn’t changed or it wasn’t just a fleeting thing or she gets up too late.

There And Back

What’s to know about going this way or that or there and back again?
Well, it seems that it used to be that instructions were necessary and landmarks were rather important and stars could be depended on —  but now there is just some kind of automation that tells of every turn and no one has to think at all. It’s much easier now to get lost.
I don’t use those things. I like left, right, north and south kinds of verbal cues given by the owner of the home or place where business is going to be transacted.
I like looking it up in a map book with coded pages, (the books that have gone the way of stars), and writing my own instructions down. There is something about writing that makes it stick. If someone else says left and right while I drive I can never do it again because I wasn’t paying attention to anything but their voice and I need the visual cues and to do it for myself to make it stick like writing down the words.
So there is something it seems that makes for brain signal insulation that only happens when someone practice, practice, practices, makes mistakes and practices some more — myelin sheath-building, that allows for better and quicker transmission of non-Siri signals formed by independent thoughts that makes ones talent, (for how to get there), finally show up.
It seems that the best benefit to Siri type technology, GPS and tracking devices is once you’re lost, someone else can find you and then they’re in the same kind of trouble and might be better looking for the North Star or a police officer who’s been that way before.


The Talent Code

Just Be Nice

Nothing for Christmas
Not even coal
It’s okay
It’s just another day
The meaning of Christmas
It doesn’t have any more meaning than whatever meaning one makes it have
Long ago no kids made making it nothing more than another day easy
So I just let it be
as it goes by
A day like any other
Why fuss any day
Today, tomorrow, everyday
Be pleasing
A pine smell
Olfactory hallucinations
The mind’s eye
I can decide
We can make it up
Be good
Not naughty
Nothing has any more meaning than whatever meaning we make it have
Everyone can always
Just be nice.

Slippery When Wet

All day the wind was raking and the deep chill was suggesting snow was likely coming. A certain telltale nuance of crispness that feels wet as the wind rakes is a good enough description to explain how one can know that it will be snow, even if snow is so unlikely in a desert that is low.

There has been snow that stuck and stayed for days — long enough to get slippery when wet on the north side of things that were hidden from the sun by shade. One needs to be careful and step out gingerly if they are wearing traction-less shoes — those without spaces for the slow-melting, watery snow to go — if it’s not preferred to slip and slide and take a chance on broken bones.

Late rising sun and early darkness, and the bitter cold, makes for wanting to make blankets by knitting or quilting and for sitting still and huddled. There isn’t much time to be outside, between the darkness and the light, and it’s far too chilled to want to stay for long — maybe just enough to take some kitchen scraps to trenches or for setting kibble out for strays. These kinds of days don’t last for long and are a nice reminder of how much better it is to be too hot than too cold — though not everyone agrees.

Few people are out meandering. It is better in where there might be heat or at least enough shelter to cut the chill. Outside, somewhere around 8 this morning, it was just above freezing and a sheet of ice was the top layer in any trough of standing water. Inside the thermometer read 54 °F. Blankets were enough to keep from feeling the freeze while sleeping and cats were good as leg warmers, but once up and out of bed, a better plan was needed. Still better than being outside.

The poor, poor homeless ones in need of shelter. It’s so good to know that there are people building little buildings just enough for one or two to sleep in and cities that will let them help get the homeless out of cold, cold rainy and snowy places and into little-tiny homes that, very often, don’t meet code.

Writing is being practiced while Christmas bells are ringing in the movies that are playing for the one huddled, cuddling with cats napping in a home that long ago somehow made an antiquated code.

February is just around the bend and it will then be time to think about seeds and planting and getting ready to be too hot instead of too cold. Nothing lasts for long and it’s a good idea to stay inside your cave where it is easier to adjust the degrees of whatever weather might be setting any kind of bother.

Either that or be brave or strong enough to take it on the outside.

Lots Of Water

Washing hair
washing clothes
washing floors
makes lots of water used if done every day
and they’re all laborious routines of conventionality that are inconvenient burdens
that make contemplation wait for a more convenient time
thereby setting back good knowing
of the best there is to know that
doesn’t require
clean hair
clean clothes
clean floors
to know
or lots of water used
to make its worth known.
It’s more fun to work a jigsaw puzzle
And jigsaw puzzles allow for
contemplation not to be put off
and — saving water
If you’re good at jigsaw puzzles
contemplation fits right in
and lots of water isn’t wasted while you puzzle.


Too Much Water


Today’s writing is dedicated to Diane L. for inspiration: Jigsaw Puzzle

No Uncertain Terms

The chain link that goes maybe two hundred feet around the perimeter of the property is largely laced with plastic fence tape — weave some name it. It’s rolled in a spool and pieces are cut off to fit the lengths and it is hand-woven in and out of the wire chains as one pleases.

Hours and hours were spent, standing and moving along the fence weaving the pieces in and out so that the property would be hidden some from view of the close and highly-trafficked road. What was going to go on behind the fence, most wouldn’t want to see — a garden, a hopeful food forest with less-than-manicured, more as-it-pleased growing things in ways that included weeds and leaves left where they fell. Lots of people walked the sidewalk too, and that made it even easier to see.

It was just a precaution against complaints — another freedom-seeking measure. The time wasn’t wasted but it was a lot of time. And then there was the time spent doing it for someone else for hire. Now that did seem like wasted time — trading time for money — though it seemed essential to be able to keep the house with the chain link fence that was already woven.

As soon as the weaving for hire was finished, days later the client died and her friends came to pull those rigid, precut lacings out to keep for themselves. As an employer might have said, “Well, you were paid for it weren’t you?”

See, the problem is with wanting to see the results of labor standing for the test of time — at least long enough to admire.


And the other problem was with the expectation that her friends not show so much immediate greed. But, it wasn’t anyone else’s business what kind of friends she wanted to keep.

Phooey! On to food forests and better ways of spending time not on someone else’s dime.

There were days and years of horrible anxiety and uncertainty and a stoic might have seen those days as worthy of a reason to exit by ones own hand because it seemed unbearable — but it wasn’t — completely unbearable.  Someone’s still here to talk about it. And stoics all agree to keep on trying.

What doesn’t kill… It might have seemed it could, but it didn’t and only waiting and getting through it would tell.

Though no one can know what someone else can bear.

It’s easy to see in hindsight what could have been a better use of time — but that was then and this is now and it goes on from here with what might seem was wasted but was, as it was, still built from there.

What is wont to happen might not be what does. Being at the ready for surprise — be it good or be it bad — might be the difference how we can survive and even thrive. It’s only while we’re living that either good or bad preside.

We may take example to adapt like a plant — most aren’t very easily devastated or if they are, they very often snap back in no uncertain terms.

The least we can do is the best that we can because there may not be an honest man to serve as an example.

No Uncertain Terms

all about weeds in no uncertain terms

Geoff Lawton on weeds. YouTube

Sweet Young Prime

I’m not tired of being old. There’s magic in it —  a chosen peace and quiet — an on-demand kind of living — no great expectations looming.
Oh sure, stiff bones aren’t always useful and they can come upon the owner unexpectedly and suddenly — evicting the more agile one without due notice as if it was her home all along.
Gray hair is lovely and the longer it gets the easier it is to pull up in a pony tail and get it off the face where it can be a nuisance — also saving beauty-making money for things more like honey to the soul — trees instead of hair dye or hair cuts.
I think I’ll be tired of not being able to get any older. That idea isn’t appealing at all and — it isn’t a good idea to fall, so more care should be taken when you are no longer feeling quite so bold.
Yes, young people look so plush and fine while they’re in their prime. They don’t know yet that everyone goes gray someday, down the line that seems so far away. They need to be told to save their memories, and their minds, as they go along because they can be young forever if they choose — in their minds — when they do get old.
The treasure trove of life’s experience is cause for marveling — even if there is no one to tell.
I didn’t get to be a singer with bright lights and awards and clapping. I didn’t want to. But I still sing and I sing real pretty in my mind and I clap.
As I sit in the sun and feel the breeze and watch the ants and birds and cats, I praise the space of time that brought me to be able just to be — and savor every quantum segment — dreading, dreading, dreading my ultimate quitting this particular space in time.
The young don’t know that kind of savoring. But they will, in their time, when they too have passed their sweet, young prime.

incredible magic of being

The Incredible Magic of Being by Kathryn Erskine

Move And Flicker

They were glitter in the light of sun as a tiny breeze made them move and flicker — a single silken thread strung from aloe to aloe that would serve as a high wire for the spider in hiding that made each one.
There were several single silky threads in various places and as I sat there in the sun, soaking, the tiny breeze blew and rustled little leaves some too and it was hard to tell if it was an ant or the breeze moving the leaf but I watched intently to discover which it was.
That is meditation.
Most ants are sleeping now. I had to wonder why one was out there foraging for something in the tiny breeze that was barely moving leaves and silky spider high wires. I was also hoping for a spider circus act that never came to town. The spiders must be sleeping too — at least they seemed to be at high noon.
There are many satisfactions sitting in the sun at high noon when a tiny breeze is barely blowing spider wires and leaves around near the ground. The sun is warm, glittery silky spider wire is pretty to look at and it’s nice to know there is company even if the company is hiding while they’re with you. The plants can’t run and hide but they are awfully quiet — more quiet than the breath of Breeze that made the wires glint.