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| Dinner Bell by Darla Vaughan |
Call me what you like
Don't call me late for supper
You can ring my bell
24 April 2012
Bell Haiku
Call me what you like
Don't call me late for supper
You can ring my bell
Reality is not a Double-Fronted Cookie
It has been driving me silly all week.
I watch TV for entertainment yes, but I also watch to get a glimpse of the man behind the curtain.You know, the one we aren't supposed to pay attention to.
This commercial is a fine example of the little things. It's all in the details no one ever notices except people whose job it is to separate you from your wages, and freaks like me who recognize these details.
Does no one else notice, after she bites the cookie and they flip the camera angle back and forth, the cookie is a 'front' or 'top' in both views?
All cookies have bottoms, yo. But not in never-never land.
I could bitch all day about the veneer that so many people buy into, but either you get what I'm saying, or you don't.
Not to mention... "Bitch ate my COOKIE!" the youtube site comments on this video have me smdh.
Ahh, the public. I'll just sit here and eat my homemade cookie and laugh and laugh.
I watch TV for entertainment yes, but I also watch to get a glimpse of the man behind the curtain.You know, the one we aren't supposed to pay attention to.
This commercial is a fine example of the little things. It's all in the details no one ever notices except people whose job it is to separate you from your wages, and freaks like me who recognize these details.
Does no one else notice, after she bites the cookie and they flip the camera angle back and forth, the cookie is a 'front' or 'top' in both views?
All cookies have bottoms, yo. But not in never-never land.
I could bitch all day about the veneer that so many people buy into, but either you get what I'm saying, or you don't.
Not to mention... "Bitch ate my COOKIE!" the youtube site comments on this video have me smdh.
Ahh, the public. I'll just sit here and eat my homemade cookie and laugh and laugh.
23 April 2012
An Inch of Rain, A Drop of Time
I heard on the local news that September '11 was the last time we've had an more than an inch of rain with one system, in this area.
Here in the swamp, we got 1.73 inches yesterday. A veritable deluge, comparatively.
It has been the same length of time since I blogged Barefoot. Much has happened since then, maybe not on the face of things, but inside of my cosmos (which is me, yours is you).
I take that back, on the face of things, too. I mean, I did, after all, quit my job a couple of weeks ago. Just up'n quit. No safety net, just my own talents. I mean, I have them (so do you), but I don't use them efficiently (neither do you, well you over in the corner, you do, but not all of you), because of trying to keep up the farce of 'employment'.
It was simply taking too much of my precious energy, without true reward. I was giving of myself, but not to myself. I see that now. I could complain about the reasons I gave my coordinator, all valid, true, but undeserving of rumination.
Instead, this little drop of time, this period of drought, has been washed cleaned and revitalized of this dry, odd, winter with a drenching of life-giving rain.
Seemed the right time to blog about the little dormant seed in my universe, which took advantage of a crack in its tough coat and decided to burst forth. I'll nurture it for all I'm worth, for it is all I have to feed myself.
Here in the swamp, we got 1.73 inches yesterday. A veritable deluge, comparatively.
It has been the same length of time since I blogged Barefoot. Much has happened since then, maybe not on the face of things, but inside of my cosmos (which is me, yours is you).
I take that back, on the face of things, too. I mean, I did, after all, quit my job a couple of weeks ago. Just up'n quit. No safety net, just my own talents. I mean, I have them (so do you), but I don't use them efficiently (neither do you, well you over in the corner, you do, but not all of you), because of trying to keep up the farce of 'employment'.
It was simply taking too much of my precious energy, without true reward. I was giving of myself, but not to myself. I see that now. I could complain about the reasons I gave my coordinator, all valid, true, but undeserving of rumination.
Instead, this little drop of time, this period of drought, has been washed cleaned and revitalized of this dry, odd, winter with a drenching of life-giving rain.
Seemed the right time to blog about the little dormant seed in my universe, which took advantage of a crack in its tough coat and decided to burst forth. I'll nurture it for all I'm worth, for it is all I have to feed myself.
protective seed coat
only holds the germ so long
it wills itself out
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