the slapping of rain

A few minutes after six, I stir in bed, hearing the slapping of rain on the elephant ears. It takes me almost a minute to rouse myself and rush to the kitchen door. Coco and Ash are there and immediately come inside, though Ash is a bit hesitant. Then Sammy makes it in about five minutes later.

One has to appreciate any rain, of course, but it's another one of those little, brief-shower types of rain, and hardly seems worth this little trouble, but like I said, we've been so damn dry for so long, you have to welcome it.

to be forty

Miss Next is writing about her e-life in a medieval game.

( Read more... )

And I found myself thinking how nice it would be to be forty again. It seems so young. To be sure, you are at the very end of your youthful life, but you are still brimming with life's possibilities. I was also forty when those dandelion dreams came along. It is on the back side of forty that you begin to feel it: old, with that sense that whatever was possible in your life is past and gone.

"Lost Memory of Skin"

I've been hankering for a novel, and now I am in hot pursuit of a real target: "Lost Memory of Skin" by Russell Banks.

( Read more... )

bit of a trouble-maker

I'm afraid Coco's a bit of a trouble-maker. She first got scrappy with Ash who was dozing on the plastic patio chair that we have beside the couch, and who clearly was in the mood only for dozing and nothing more, and then she starts seriously biting on Sammy, which even seems dangerous to me.

She's a little plucky. I thought I saw this sort of thing before on her part. It also reminds me of Calico, that feral princess among our first batch of kittens with Mother Grey. Maybe it's part of the calico spirit: better climbers, more physical. On the positive side, I can only imagine that Sammy really must be restraining himself with Coco and Ash, or else Coco would've learned by now not to start roughhousing with her bigger, stronger brother.

July 25, 1999, Sunday, 2100

"I and me are always too deep in conversation."
-- "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"

After the great beginning, Nietzsche's writing just seems forced and meandering. Nietzsche is a Buddha, too!

============

October 8, 2011

Should I take another shot at Nietzsche's work? Mine it for quotes? I don't know. Maybe if time were infinite, or if I was still in my twenties. I have other books I want to do, and I don't know how much time I have left to play around in.

July 25, 1999, Sunday, 2100

Mother expresses her restlessness. Monk argues that she has to decide what to do with her life, after she scoffed at his repeated suggestion that she ought to draw.

===============

October 8, 2011

No doubt she had something like 'spending the evening drinking with Jack and friends' in mind, with the idea of drawing being a child's pastime, and my life a child's life, scribbling away in my notebooks instead of having a job and a wife.

Quote of the Day

"Some one said: ‘The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much more than they did.’ Precisely, and they are that which we know."

-- T. S. Eliot

After having just done that big essay on Eliot, we couldn't very well just pass this one up.

July 26, 1999, Monday, 0835

Monk had noticed that somebody had driven off with the truck at about six in the morning. He even suspected that it might have been a theft.

During the water-run, Monk asks Pop for the story. He said that he had his blood tested - a special program for diabetics. Then Pop mocks, “Afterwards, people have coffee and doughnuts.”

===============

October 8, 2011

I don’t want to forget that old routine: Pop and I going off to refill the water jugs at H.E.B., with Mother holding down the fort, with me being a little anxious about her taking the opportunity to feed Bo unlawful scraps. Hmph, now I hope she was feeding him something delicious, poor baby. As for today’s routine, Pop goes alone and gets one jug at a time, and I carry it in from the car.

As for diabetes, I imagine that the smart bet is that I have it myself, but I am just playing it naturally. I am sure it is an issue that Pop will not open. Not that I’d know what to do if he did bring it up. Considering what I’m doing with my life, in terms of earning a living, it doesn’t really make sense to me to be latching onto artificial, costly fixes to maintain my health. God’s will be done.

July 28, 1999, Wednesday, 1330

Mother relates that Jack is quitting, and that he intends to start his own company: Jack's Construction.

Monk asks, "What does he know how to construct?"

==============

October 8, 2011

Of course, Mother is awed and proud of Jack, since she knows nothing about starting companies and the world of business, which is the same as Jack knows, and which is not that much less than what I know. What Jack was doing was trying his hand at fraud, and it would blow up in his face, though he apparently was let off lightly.

Jack had just turned thirty, and he was still looking to try his wings. I think he has since come to understand that he has no wings, especially after his later trouble with the law with jail and electronic bracelets. Nevertheless, he did well enough in life, considering everything. I at least got a college degree, but I did not get nearly as far in life. I feel like I had some wings, but no one cared to help me off the ground, though it may have been understood that I wouldn't be interested in any twenty or thirty thousand dollar clerical job, the role of an office eunuch, which is the best that I could reasonably hope for.

suppose to rain tonight

"I'm thinking about keeping the cats inside tonight. It looks unsettled out there."

Pop says, "Yeah, they say it's suppose to rain tonight."

stuffed and fat

After that big chili lunch, I feel too stuffed and fat for dinner, like I should wait until nine o'clock to eat. Besides, I'm mainly interested in a bowl of that chocolate ice cream. I am tempted just to have that for my dinner, making a dessert out of the meal, but I'll try to down some chicken, get some more real food in me.

to Elvis

I think I'll just listen to Elvis tonight with my dinner. Just no gripping movies.

And I have "1984" on tap, but I am struck how the fun of it can not be matched by the movie, except for the real nudity that is shown.

the eskies

Clearing up the chicken bones, I remember when such was a big treat for the eskies, during the earliest Bay Horse years, before I learned how dangerous sharp bone fragments can be for them. In particular, I remember Princess being so desperate for those bones, even beating me to them before I was finished with my meal, sweet baby.

my Mr. Saturday Night post

In response to my Mr. Saturday Night post, Susanna writes, "Hot photographs, as usual. Woo! Fun times." She tries, but one guest does not a party make.

the shower

I'm so glad I took care of the toilet last night. I'll be lucky to get in the shower before nine.

Sugar

Sugar is really letting her blog go to weeds.

I shouldn't be looking, of course. Maybe it would have been better to have remained banned, because I obviously cannot help myself.

being crowded

Pop got a lot of washing out of the way tonight, his clothes. So, we shouldn't have to worry about being crowded by that for a while.

*******

Let's see if I can get in the shower, and start getting wet, before the clock strikes ten.

a conclusion

While I was in my shower, feeling sorry for myself, thinking about how I'm not going to get a good night's sleep, because of the cats, but even more because of my nearly twenty-year-old mattress, not to mention my life in general, I started focusing on what I was going to do tonight, thinking that maybe I will be able to print out some more posts for "1984", seeing how I almost have all that I have done, and that I will then catch up on "Hamlet", and thinking that these will be very nice to have.

Which I won't be able to print out tonight, after all, since it's already after ten.

But in all this thinking, a conclusion fell onto my lap: just forget the Bible book-blogging, at least for a while. I'm not feeling any real joy over that work, and there are these other works that I am much more interesting in developing and getting done.

frozen in 2003-2006

I checked Sugar's twitter, and I am struck by the difference between what the woman is today and what interests her, and the woman I think about, as she is frozen in 2003-2006, and how I keep that image up by actually using her icons in this scribble blog.

Probably not very healthy, right?

But it means something to me. It still means a lot to me. That image, the way things were then. It means a lot to me. I have next to nothing.

Of course, the same is true of Gabe and Christie, but they are beyond my stalking ability, and I am not confronted directly with the difference between then and now as that pertains to them.

*******

I shouldn't forget Effulgent Days. My first Blurty friend, save perhaps for good old Kenties. A gal, very young and girly. Fortunately, I somehow managed to snag the icon she used before she deleted her journal. I wouldn't have thought that I learned that skill until well after she was gone. I didn't know how to upload an icon or save pictures until I was well into my Debate Forum era. I do not remember her as being concurrent with that time, exchanging comments with her while exchanging comments with Gabe and Sugar. I wonder if she was gone by the time I found the nerve to friend them.

I don't feel as awkward about keeping her memory. It feels like older history, more ancient, and it never came close to being personal. It seems like a sweeter remembering. The schoolgirl at the water fountain.

I wonder what she blogs now. And where. Probably on Facebook. Perhaps only recently finishing college.