“We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.” ~ Neil Gaiman
“It occurs to me that the peculiarity of most things we think of as fragile is how tough they truly are. There were tricks we did with eggs, as children, to show how they were, in reality, tiny load-bearing marble halls; while the beat of the wings of a butterfly in the right place, we are told, can create a hurricane across an ocean. Hearts may break, but hearts are the toughest of muscles, able to pump for a lifetime, seventy times a minute, and scarcely falter along the way. Even dreams, the most delicate and intangible of things, can prove remarkably difficult to kill.” ~ Neil Gaiman
“There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes “What the hell is water?” ~ David Foster Wallace
Reading the news this morning enlightened me to what should have been obvious: our current governmental crisis provides ample, maybe even endless, opportunity to be really really cranky in my morning blog post. The temptation is nearly painful to resist. Ouch. Just a taste here of some of the stuff that is going through my head these days. I am feeling excitement from . . . well, can’t quite pin that thought down. My bad. The tidbit I offer, from the writer here, comes from numerous times during the past many months when some writer of some article appearing somewhere compares our Tump crisis with the HBO series “Game of Thrones”. Okay, I can go with that. So who plays Daenerys Stormborn in real life? Who calls forth the dragons when the time comes? My money is on Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Talk about pluck; she has it in abundance. Saw a thing this morning where Donny Junior posted a meme that suggested that Ocasio-Cortez wants to make Americans eat dogs. Yes, it has gone that far. She’s a Democratic Socialist (as am I). Get it? Socialist? Friggin Commies. So I have to wonder if they eat dogs up yonder in Norway. Just sayin’, right? Sometimes I sense that our greatest threat from Trump Sr. and his posse is that them wackos live in a comic book and we don’t. Period. And they don’t even wait for the ink to dry.
The weather radar shows an area of snow that extends on beyond Los Alamos, down to just south of Santa Fe. The north end of the snow ends just a mile or two south of here. Here, it is foggy; air temperature hovering right at or around the freezing point. Celtic lore suggests that the mist is where the material world and the Spirit world commingle at their closest. I feel it that way; asking the ancestors and Spirit in general for assistance in a battle I am having to endure. Magic is once again afoot in the land. Someone has been witchin’ me. That’s not cool. I have my suspicions but I can’t rightly say with any certainty exactly who it is. I’ll figure it out. That said, it’s time for me to mosey along, straight into the shower. Tis a workday and the holiday retail season is also afoot in the land. I find that to be enthralling at times. As stressful and painful as retail can sometimes be, it is still great fun when business gets brisk.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.