In The Muddle

Excellent note, one of the best I have seen. The explanation is correct in every way.
-#SpamCommentary

It is taking me days to write this post. I found the SpamCommentary quote on May 24th, and I’m typing these words on May 30th, when I should be getting up and going to the store because even though I’d planned for all the food this weekend, I didn’t get the meal plan together for this week, and it’s Monday, and I’m not on the telephone, so I should be getting up and going to the store, though I could be working on the project that’s due on Wednesday, or the one that’s due in early September.

I’m getting up and going to the store.

It’s July 12th. I should be working on the project that’s due on Wednesday, or getting up and going to the store, or any of the easily a dozen other things that need to be done, but I stumbled across this old draft post that I’d forgotten about, and decided to finish it instead of just deleting it.

Yes, that is rare for me. I tend to stop more things than I ever finish, and often delete them when I stumble on them again — assuming I don’t get fed up with them or myself (it’s usually myself) and choose not to save them at all. I rarely suffer from anguish or guilt when I do this, which probably says there’s something deeply wrong with me, but, hey, it’s not like I’m kicking puppies, right?

Not much has changed since last week, other than the Monster’s coming down with chicken pox. Yes. He’s been vaccinated. He’s had both doses. He still has chicken pox, so his schedule for the week’s right out the window, which frankly bothers us more than it does him.

And that’s … yep. That’s about it. See, there’s utterly nothing exciting happening that’s been distracting me from blogging!

p.s. We’re not even playing Pokemon Go.

Staying Put

Spring’s happened.

I feel better.

We achieved our fourth year in Northern Virginia.  Our boy’s starting a great middle school this fall.  We have no obvious plans to move. We’re celebrating by getting a stamped concrete patio/outdoor kitchen.

Yes, we do know how much the universe likes to screw with any plans we make to stay put.  We’re doing it anyway, so, nyah.

And that’s … yeah, that’s about it.  We have house guests staying with us until they get into their place in August, and that’s been fun.  It’s also come with an unexpected bonus:  @bhoneydew and I have gotten some date nights, which really hasn’t happened since we moved from PA.  We got to have dinners at Places That Did Not Serve French Fries and see both Captain America: Civil War and ID2 In A Theater As They Were Intended To Be Seen, which was awesome.  Between that and it being pleasantly (surprisingly non-humid) warm out on those nights, it was almost like we were back in California.1

I see you don’t monetize your website
I noticed that your On-Page SEO is is missing a few factors
-the most recent #SpamObservations

I’m beginning to suspect that the spam bots don’t actually read my blog.

1I miss that about California.  Not Bay Area home prices.  I also do not even want to think about the hoops we’d have to jump through to get the Monster into a good school situation out there.

Catching Up

Appreciating the persistence you put into your site.

-the latest #spamcommentary

What I Am Saying:

Hahahahahahahaha.

So, February sucked.

March was a little better. I’m getting into the groove with the new full time gig (which appeared out of the middle of nowhere while I was fighting fires the week I got back from Mom’s funeral1): put two large projects to bed before I headed back to Arkansas to help my sister do triage on Mom’s stuff, and managed to take care of a small project while I was doing that triage. There are still lingering embers from the early February fires, but hopefully hopefully they’ll be burned out by some point in April. Of course, I said that to myself about the fires in December. And the ones in September. And the ones last April. And the ones in December 2014.

I dropped my PL/SQL refresher. I was doing well in it — in the interests of full disclosure, I’m only taking it because the PL/SQL class I had didn’t transfer — but life had decided not to cooperate with my wanting to take a class on Tuesday nights. On that note, I haven’t looked at a single lecture for the Coursera bio class I signed up for. Not. A. Single. One. Nope. I’ll get things figured out eventually, or at least enough to fake it.

What I Am Not Saying:

As a child, I did science
To contain and explain
Madness
I wanted to be more
Than flesh and bone,
Hormones and hysteria
I knew … like I knew everything
That logic could
Let me leap out of the mud
Allowing me to fly
Through even God’s fingers

It did.

In college, science didn’t want me
I was too mad to love
My logic all circumstantial,
Conditional,
Anecdotal
Poetry was a better fit
But I knew … like I still knew everything
That poetry could
Starve me so much
That my meat and its needs
Would betray me
Crushing me back into the dirt

I did not give it that chance.

In adulthood, I have said
I am not that
I was this instead
I do not do that
I said
I did this instead
And I will be
And I was someone else
And I will do
And I did something else
But in truth, I have just done
Only what a bee does
Fading flower to brighter flower to next flower
But dumping my cargo
So I won’t be forced to land

There is no more ground to fear now
And I am no longer as certain of the sky
Or that I know anything.


 

1Yeah, I did see it as a sign.

Signs and Portents

You’re so cool!
This site is something that is needed on the web, someone with a bit of originality!

The latest #spamflattery (full marks for its being grammatically correct).

Quick update this week.

On the morning of February 1st, I wrote the first draft of a writing-related post. I had intended to tell you guys that I’d had a productive writing session the night before, and had not only figured out where to put the assassin, but had crafted the main storyline for the trilogy and more importantly (at least for me), figured out the damn names for each book.

Then breakfast had to happen, and the Monster needed to be herded toward school, and then my sister called (as @bhoneydew was walking toward his car, bag in hand, to head in to work) to tell me Mom was dead.

So, yeah, I didn’t get back to that post that week. Or last week. Or most of this week. Yeah, I have been crazy stressed (in a soak-up-others’-stress like a sponge one week, and deal-with-work-related-disasters the rest), and super busy, but I’m coming out from under that cloud.

We almost ran over a groundhog yesterday when we were taking the Monster to his horseback riding lessons. I’m afraid I might have laughed inappropriately. You see, that means Spring Is Coming!

“What do you want?”
Mr. Morden, “Signs and Portents”, Babylon 5, Season 1, Episode 13

I want spring, damn it.

Inevitabilities

Oh, how to start?
Where I am now
Is even less me than art
The feinting thump
Of an armadillo heart
Hey, I can walk in your shoes all day
Probably best to keep it that way.

–2.1.2016

Last week’s cryptic post was brought to you courtesy of my mother’s making an unexpected exit from the world. It was followed a few days later by my losing my great aunt; less unexpectedly, but damn, my family’s sense of dramatic timing.1

I’m now back home, up to my eyebrows in work that’s been keeping me up to 5HourEnergyCaliberUnfortunateHoursOfTheMorning, and now and again my brain gets stuck on the fact that my mother — who was Payroll Officer for a community college — made sure that she didn’t drop dead before she got out this year’s W2s.

Her shellshocked co-workers kept repeating that to me when they filed in for her viewing and funeral (and feeding us, bless ’em). Peggy got out the W2s.

@bhoneydew and I did our taxes as soon as we got back.

Now and again, my brain gets stuck on that fact too.

—-
1One of the ways I kept myself together last week was imagining I was in a movie, and doing mental exercises as far as who I’d cast to play us all, and who’d do the cinematography and soundtrack. My sister (wisely) curated my in-the-real-world choices for funeral music. My (wiser) Monster opted to sing along anyway. Loudly. In a chapel full of stunned silent people. I was dumbfoundedly proud of him. Also wondering where he’d been listening to Miss Dolly and Miss Loretta sing gospel music, but more proud than dumbfounded.

Behind The Door of Snow

Now it’s time to be happy and far from hesitant.
-the latest #spamadvice

Fortunately, the solution is simple today; change the way you think.
-the latest #horoscopeadvice1

Snowzilla trying to get in where it's warm.

Snowzilla trying to get in where it’s warm.

 

I can’t get out of my front door right now. Okay, that’s not one hundred percent true. I can open the front door, step out onto the front porch, look at the several feet of snow on the lawn2, nod, and go back inside for cocoa, a dance break, and a few more hours of staring at the computer screen for fifteen minute stretches.3 It really has been a great weekend and some for wrapping up massive deliverables.

Which will be done.

Eventually.


 

1For Sagittarians. Technically speaking (as much as astrology can be technical), I’m Ophiuchus. Or transited into Capricorn. Or an Earth Monkey with Mercury perpetually doing doughnuts in the celestial parking lot.
2 We got close to three feet, and more was deposited by passing snowplows scraping the street and our snowblower when we cleared a tunnel down the drive and walk.
3Which have been closer to twenty and thirty and a hundred and twenty at times, bad Shai, no biscuit. I’m also pretty sure my PT is going to be upset with me for shoveling snow for five hours straight (my shoulder certainly is!).