Do I Have To Have A Title?

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Tucson Weather Today

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As I sit here trying to think of something significant to write about I am listening to my radio, reliving the still powerful emotions I once felt long ago, hearing a young Rickie Nelson singing Poor Little Fool -- and wondering why I am still hanging around, why I continue on...



Yes, I know such thoughts are deemed negative, and unproductive. Yet the thoughts are there, unbidden of course, but in existence none the less.

Probably better kept unblogged, though. Kept to one's self.

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Tucson's Santa Catalina Mountains

(Walking North on Soldier Trail)

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The Pig

It was the first of May
A lovely warm spring day
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all a-flutter,
And I landed in the gutter
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.

Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter
When a lady passing by did softly say
'You can tell a man who boozes
By the company he chooses' --
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.

--Anonymous

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I just had some breakfast. Some fresh baked biscuits and a small bowl of blueberries and mixed tropical fruit.

And now I am feeling much better.

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So It Goes . . .

I woke up at 1:30 this morning and could not get back to sleep. So I read some more from Hannibal.

Then I opened my current.txt file and wrote about two thousand words describing one of the characters in my novel: Micah Malachai (haven't decided on his last name yet) and then, after feeding Eva and taking her out for a short stroll around the pool, I drank a cup of green tea while reading what I had earlier written. It seemed to be an adequate description.

After a late breakfast of an orange, a banana, and a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch I watched Fox and Friends (Saturday Edition) for a short time, wondering if the sexy smiling blond female news-person could possibly wear a shorter yellow dress and shaking my head in disbelief at the laughingly reported antics and monkeyshines being perpetrated on the good conservative citizenry by the everlastingly corrupt political congregation of know-nothing liberals currently in power.

Much later, after digging up a dead shrub and pulling some weeds around the pool, I came back inside and had a chicken sandwich, some chips, and a glass of Pepsi. Then I played some tug-o-war with Eva and eventually returned to the computer and again read what I had written earlier.

It was bland, uninspired, and downright disgusting, and I deleted the entire file.

So it goes . . .

Where Do The Weeks Go?

First, just for my own amusement, please allow me to present a picture of this morning's breakfast.

Nutritious And Delicious

I read in a learned paper that delusional psychiatric patients who believe themselves to be God, or Jesus, or some other Divine Being cannot be simply "talked out of" their delusions. Their certainties are considered to be pathological beliefs, reflecting a warped or broken understanding that is not, by definition, amenable to being reshaped by reality.

Does this then also include, I wonder, the great number of obviously delusional religious fanatics of the world?


Speaking of 'delusional' -- it occurred to me that talking to dogs can be rewarding if not overly-revealing... especially regarding the effective description of a character in your novel. Eva is an excellent audience for my explanations. She is a quiet and seemingly-contemplative listener. And she rarely offers an opinion.



Yes, I am still working on that book...been at it for around fifty years. So? It's not being stubborn; it's called persistence. I will fail only when I quit trying. Or so I've been told.

Today's purchases at Circle K were two small packages of Planter's peanuts (2 for $1) -- four bananas (20 cents each) -- two bottles of Yoohoo ($1.00 apiece) -- and five Powerball tickets ($1 each) and then I carried them (walking, of course) back home.


Last night Mike pointed out a well-camouflaged horned-lizard on the rocky path outside the swimming pool fence, and I managed to get a picture of it.

It sure blends into the background, doesn't it?

Nature is a curious phenomenon. It always fascinates me. Makes me think. Makes me realize how insignificant I am. And I wonder if others feel the same way.

And this is a picture of today's lunch.

A gourmet I am not.

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Bits And Pieces . . .

After a cup of contemplative green tea I had a breakfast of a large California navel orange and a Costa Rican banana.

Refreshing, delicious, and hopefully nutritious.

A few minutes ago, as I indulged in my routine morning read of Rensselaer Adventures (Rensselaer, Indiana being my original hometown) I stopped at the writer's phrase, "...on the cement floor..." and thought, now he probably meant to say "the 'concrete' floor' instead of 'cement' floor.

A Google definition search revealed the difference between the word 'concrete' (a strong hard building material composed of sand and gravel and cement and water) and 'cement' (a building material that is a powder made of a mixture of calcined limestone and clay; used with water and sand or gravel to make concrete and mortar) -- those two terms are used interchangeably (although grammatically incorrect) in informal American English.

For some reason my new computer with Windows 7 when using Internet Explorer renders all my web pages as being set to the right side of the new wide-screen monitor instead of the center. Of course it does not do so using Firefox. But being the accommodating fellow that I am, I set about righting that particular wrong, and spent a goodly part of yesterday re-doing the affected web pages.

I believe that they all are perfected now.

But, who knows . . .?