I want to go back to sleep, although I’m not sure I could be as cute as Collette here. I would also like to have more words, or at least better words, but this morning my head appears to be filled with marshmallow fluff and acorns. All sorts of clunky bits goobered together in a sticky mass. It is difficult to haul coherence out of that.
Well. I hope you all have a satisfactory day. As the old saying goes: May your toast always have jelly, and on your broccoli; cheese.
This picture feels like it was taken in a shopping mall portrait studio sometime in the mid to late ’90s. Like the cat had an appointment for some senior pictures, and she had to choose a canvas backdrop. And she really liked the black one with the criss-crossing multicolored laser beams, but Mom Cat said no, pick one Grandma Cat will like. And they almost had an argument about it but then Mom Cat said they could stop at Auntie Anne’s for for a pretzel afterwards if she’d pick the sunset one. And since she had liked that one too, she said OK, for Grandma Cat. And for the pretzel.
And I love that.
Hey. It’s Monday. And that’s not always awesome, but it’s not necessarily bad either. It’s just another day. And yeah, going back to bed would be would be super. But if you get dressed and go to work or class or whatever, you get to talk to that one friend you only see there, and thats cool. And maybe you could swing by Auntie Anne’s on the way home and grab a pretzel.
Have a day.
Chai spends a lot of time waiting for snacks. Or head scritches. She is actually not at home these days, she has gone back to college. Double major in Nap Theory and Snack Acquisition, with a minor in Furniture Scratching. She got a scholarship through the National Meowit Society.
I hope you all enjoy your final moments of freedom before returning to work tomorrow. Unless you work in the service industry, or maybe the circus, then you have no freedom. Or at least no weekends.
I forgot to write yesterday.
I had time to at least Haiku a cat and then churn out a mediocre blurble before 9am. And I wasn’t feeling “off” or anything. I didn’t even go to back to bed. I just forgot.
In my defense, I was reading a book. It is easy to forget things when you’re reading a book. That is one of the best side effects, actually. In fact, I would say it is my favorite side effect of reading.
“Four Past Midnight” by Stephen King (1991), since I know you were curious. I recently learned that King has a book coming out this fall; “Other Worlds Than These”, which will be the 3rd installment of the “Talisman” series. My first thought when I discovered this was: “Talisman has a sequel?” It does, and I hadn’t yet read it. And since I couldn’t remember if I had read “The Talisman” I thought it best to read it (again, if indeed I already had) before finding a copy of “Black House” (that being the second book) and reading it before the third book was released.
While looking through older King books, both on my shelves and in the great tubes of the interwebz, I found a number of titles I had only a fuzzy gray memory of. There were also a handful of titles completely foreign to me. As I consider myself a fan of Mr. King, that did not sit well with me. At that moment I decided to compile a list of all his books, stories, and various murmurings and begin checking it twice.
First: all those titles I could state without question had been read by my own eyes, crossed off. Second: any title I was familiar enough with that I may have read was researched briefly to determine if indeed I had. If the names rang familiar, if the geography was already imprinted on the pages of my mental atlas, if the entire winding, twisting, path of the plot laid itself before me after just a few pages; then I was comfortable with striking it from my list as well. Third and lastly: I removed the non-fiction titles because this just wasn’t that sort of list.
What I was left with was twenty titles. And I have decided that I must read these all. No time limit, or due date. This isn’t a race. Not a school assignment. Just a task I should have seen to completion some many years ago, that I am half embarrassed to say still lingers unfinished.
Three down.
Seventeen to go.
One aditional brain tangent: Some of you may remember that bit of prose I mentioned in Burble #145, perhaps a few of you are even curious as to where it went. Like many bits of wordage that have vomited from my thumbs, they have been relinquished to a digital post-it note and stuck to my virtual refrigerator where they will hopefully, some day soon, flag my attention so that I may hurl more thoughts at it and see what sticks
I’m also thinking that perhaps the fiction pieces will need their own home. They aren’t really blurble material. Most of these Haiku adendums are fragmented shards of actuality. Each a narrow glimpse into my everyday. What some word collectors would call “non-fiction”. Mostly.
I will need to sit down at a computer, the thumb interface on WordPress is not conducive to restructuring and page building, and construct some type of home for these longer and more involved forays into my imagination.
But don’t hold your breath. I have no timeline on this and really no plan yet. So far it is all just a bit of a wingding, if you know what I mean.
You probably do not.
And that’s ok.
Happy Saturday everyone. Spend some time with a cat today. You’ll feel better.
(and yes, Figgs got his breakfast, thank you for your concern)
So, I had an actual bit of creative writing started in this blank space beneath today’s Haiku. But then I realized I have a dentist appointment this morning, and even though I do not have work today, I will still need to put on pants. This amputates my morning schedule rather completely, and as such, I do not have ample time remaining to wordify.
So. Those paragraphs have been cut from here and pasted elsewhere for the moment. Hopefully I will remember my train of thought and I can get all the words out of my head and onto the paper. And if I do manage this feat, I will copy and paste it all back into one of these blurbles on a future day.
Until that day, enjoy the Haiku. And drink water. And pet a cat. And take the garbage out (it’s Thursday).
I should go back to bed. I think I need to go back to bed. There are little bugs running around in my skull. Mushing around in the gray matter. Burrowing into the folds and wrinkles. Eating up memories and tidbits of knowledge. I don’t know how they get in there, but they build up throughout the day and if I lay my head down on a pillow for long enough, they’ll start falling out my ear. And once they mill about on the sheets, exposed to the air, they turn to dust and blow away. I just didn’t keep my head flat on a pillow long enough last night and the last handful of those stubborn bastards are still in there munching on my neurons.
So once I’m done here, and I get this scheduled for your mid-morning reading pleasure, I’ll sneak back in between the sheets and wait for the little bugs to fall out of my ear.
Maybe I’ll wake up again with enough time to add some more words here. But probably not.
Have a Wednesday, everybody. Tell your cat(s) I say hello. And give them snacks.
I almost didn’t get this one written. I couldn’t make my brain work because some neighbor’s lawn care company showed up at seven in the friggin morning and started howling at the rising sun with their friggin leaf blowers.
I don’t hate much. Hate takes a lot of emotional energy and has zero positive impact. But I hate leaf blowers. Which is interesting because they too require a lot of energy and do not net much in the way of positivity. A vacuum cleaner creates a similar level of annoyance, but they accomplish something. They actually pick up the detritus and allow one to remove it from the location being vacuumed and into an appropriate vessel. But a blower just moves all the crap around. It’s all still there. Half of it is left drifting around in the air and eventually settles back down where it was in the first place. If you work the blower around long enough, you can probably make sure all that airborne garbage passes into someone else’s airspace before gravity takes its toll on it. But that’s not really “cleaning up”. That’s just moving the problem onto someone else’s plate. Which I guess is pretty much par for the modern world. But thats a pretty shitty thing to be OK with.
Let me put this is a way that makes sense for the average suburbanite:
Using a leaf blower is in the same column as leaving your grocery cart in the middle of the parking lot.
Yeah. I said it.
Do with that as you may. I need to go to work, and that requires pants. Apparently.
Somewhere in that busy morning schedule, she probably yarffed half of first breakfast too, I just haven’t stepped in it yet.
A some of you may have noticed, there has been less “daily” and more “almost” in the Haiku flow recently. I have been very busy not mowing the lawn and not cleaning the house and not finishing any of the many projects I currently have in progress. Very busy.
And of course, now that the lawn is overgrown, there are probably feral garden gnomes rampaging through the thatched underturff. Entire gnetworks and gneighborhoods of them. It’ll be worse than the Great Smurf Migration of 1987. I’ll have to get clearance from the EPA before I can fire up the mower. Probably get the back yard declared a superfund site before this is all over.
Luckily, it’s Monday, and I have to go to work. So I can’t address the issue until Thursday. At least. Maybe I’ll find some highschool kid to take care of it. They’re pretty much disposable anyway.
Time to make a lunch and put on pants. Capitalistic consumerism waits for no one. Not even garden gnomes.
I completely understand the inexplicable gravity of a cardboard box. I feel the same way about bed. In fact, at any given moment, climbing into bed is a top five thought in my head. Minimum. I’m not sure anyone can fully appreciate how much I want to go back to bed. I’m fighting it right now. But I fear resistance may be futile.
It was.
I fell asleep in the chair again. Mornings would be so much better if we had them in the afternoons.
Well. I’m gonna go eat something. Maybe get some more coffee. Maybe go back to bed.
For those of you counting, yes. I missed yesterday. I had fully planned on penning a poem for you, but while sorting through pictures, waiting on inspiration, I dozed. When I awoke, The Time For Posting Haikus had passed. My only options were waiting until today, or time travel. And time travel requires physics, and physics is math, and I don’t math. I word. Sorry.
It is hot and humid and generally gross outside. This is normal for August in the upper middle. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. In fact, I am fairly certain I am incapable of liking it. In fact, I opposite of like it. I unlike it.
Only a couple more weeks though. I cannot yet detect the cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg in the air, but its coming. Soon. The Pumpkin Spice must flow…
I think that’s all the words I can manage for right now. Enjoy your Thursday, everybody. Don’t forget to water the plants.
