cereal

the only thing I have against cereal is that it's so noisy. It's impossible to pour yourself a quiet bowl at 2 in the morning.

In a world without edges, only unending horizons

I was thinking about creating worlds and making fantasy maps and thinking how most of the time fantasy worlds just fade off along the edges, and how it often feels much better to me that way, than having precise edges and knowing everything that exists in that world. So I was thinking about worlds without edges. And then I was thinking, hey wait a minute, in a way that is our world, one of no edges, just horizons which keep revealing themselves. You think you can reach an edge, an end, a point of Here at last It Is, or I Am, or whatever, but each of those places we see from afar, when we reach them, reveal a whole new vista, and prove to be yet another step on the road, as much an end as a beginning.

The Mysterious Art of Flipping Eggs

is quite beyond me!
How on earth is one supposed to accomplish this magical feat?

(we're talking the over-easy/hard kind, you know, fried flat in a pan)
The thing could be swimming in butter but it still sticks to the spatula so I can't slide it all the way under!! If I try it just ends up wrinkling up and then bunching on the far side of the pan. I have to get three spatulas to even attempt the trick. I get one in under the edge and lift it up, then I slip another one under further and repeat. Then I try and remove the first one without tearing the egg and get it in from the other side. Then I have to juggle these three spatula handles that aren't all going the same direction and lift the whole awkward contraption and try to get it to flip over quickly without creating disater. Half the time the egg just folds over on itself and doesn't actually flip, or I break the yolk. bah! If only I didn't like eggs cooked this way so much! hehe

Why is a Raven like a Writing Desk?

a poem has been written on it.


I'm sitting here with a cup of tea looking out the kitchen window at the rainy world, watching a black bird up in the autumn coloured trees and thinking of Poe while this line from Alice in Wonderland is going through my head. This riddle troubled me greatly as a child. I must admit I've never actually read the book and don't know whether it even appears in it, where it's from, or whether any answer is ever given. but in any case this answer finally formed itself in my head now and I was reflecting on the fact that it working depends on the use of the word 'on' in English, and that it probably wouldn't translate well to some other languages.

exasperation!

I have come to the conclusion that I hate feather pillows! You can pile five of them up at once and in the space of five secconds you are flat with the mattress again! They give no support whatsoever. They have utterly no purpose other than to get in the way, smother you, and generally be obnoxious! They poof up around the rest of your head so that you cannot breath, but where you want them to poof, such as under your neck or your ear or between your head and your arm - no! they go flat as a pancake! and they might even poke you to boot!

the magic of sun and water

There's a sprinkler going in the field across the way. It keeps hitting the roof of the house like a nice hard rain, making a mistcloud as it bounces off. Then as it moves on past there is a waterfall of droplets rolling off in sheets and strands....the light shining on the drops is mezmerising and magical. How sweet such simple joys are! ^.^

It's only a Bug

aye, it’s only a bug. Only. How would you like it if someone said that about you? But you are different, yes. You are a person, you know what you are, you think about things, you experience the world and yourself and others, you remember, you anticipate. Do bugs do these things? Do they immagine, hope, feel emotions? We do not rightly know. Yet, even so, is it not terrifying to contemplate that your heart, You, would kill something just because it was inconvenient for you?

“Oh look, it’s an ant on the counter.” *Smash*

Have you ever looked at those searching antenas in the moment before your finger comes down out of the sky in a flash and cuts off all that bug knew. Have you ever thought of how sudden and unexpected that ending was? Have you ever looked at your finger and realised that it has the power to separate things from this world forever? Have you ever considered and trembled at the thought of such a thing happening to you? The idea that suddenly, for no reason other than your existance slighty bothering someone, it might just be stoppped, eliminated, without a thought or care or pause or remembrance, without a moment even to realise it is happening. Have you ever looked at your heart and realised the darkness of that impulse within you.......I don’t like it - Smash! Have you ever considered what it might do? If you believed other things were bugs as well? Have you remembered, and shuddered, that it happens all the time? That people believe even people like themselves are only bugs.

To the bugs, we are like gods. Remember the Romans gods? Whose intrests and petty whims upturned the lives of humans below without their asking? How greatly do your petty whims upturn many little lives that do not even understand your existance. Is that your right? Are you a god? Over what? What in this world truely belongs to you? Perhaps it is our gift and right to herd the sheep, the beetles, the bushes of this earth. Even so, do we know where our will should stop? Over what it has precedence, and over what it does not? Do we have the grace to consider what is under us? Or do we act only upon our whims? And even if it is our right to do so......is it truely right? Is it good? Is it best? Is it, perhaps, only through giving up our right voluntarily that we become something more? More than an act of fate, a ‘force of nature’ if you will. Will we interact with, consider, what is under us? Do we recognise that there may be something over us, even as we are over the bugs? Will we pay attention to the interaction of what is above us when it reaches down into our lives?

ever so gratefull

ever so
for all who have loved
for all who have given
for all who have shared
for all who have listened
for all who have smiled
for all who have laughed
for all who have cared
for all who have shown me wonder and beauty and comfort and hope
for all who have made life so abundantly beautifull
I am gatefull
ever so gratefull