Happy Birthday Ernest Hemingway

Today is the birthday of Ernest Hemingway 1899-1961.

Papa Hemingway At Work

. . .

I have discovered a major problem in my attempts at (honest) fiction writing: having characters perform according to what I KNOW is how they would do so because of their temperament, as opposed to how I want them to perform. It's a real problem and an item of concern for me, this deliberate skewing of a story from (my perception of) reality merely for dramatic effect.

Perhaps I am too old to write acceptably presented modern fiction.

But Cormac McCarthy published The Road when he was in his seventies, as am I, so why should I not continue writing my novel? As I wish to write it. I have a great deal to say to an open-minded intelligent reader and if I do not say it (in print) then I am surely remiss in my duty to myself and to my abilities.

. . .

I found an online Bibliography that has proven to be worthwhile in my seemingly never-ending search for new and interesting books to read. I can use this site to easily view the description of a book and then go to my favorite vendor to buy it.

. . .

A humorous interlude:

Mel Gibson meets the South Park gang in a short video cartoon.


Toodles . . .

This, That, And The Other

Here is a comment I received after my earlier blog entry regarding Sicilians I have known, wherein I expressed doubts that ALL Sicilians are fastidious and are mellow-voiced crooners -- "Siamo tutti i peccatori. Lo perdono per la vostra eresia. Non sin non di più. Canterò voi quando siamo nel cielo."

Since I neither speak nor read Sicilian (Italian?) I resorted to an online translation -- the result was: "We are all the sinners. The forgiveness for your heresy. Not sin not more. I will sing you when we are in the sky."

How sweet . . .


Luckily, yesterday morning my camera was close to hand when I looked out the front entrance window and caught a wily culprit in the act of committing mayhem. A pesky Ground Squirrel was nibbling on JoAnn's lovingly tended plant.

Cameras are everywhere these days . . .
careless miscreants don't have a chance.

Yesterday when I bought a 3-lb. stalk of bananas at Circle K, I decided to purchase another chance on the Powerball drawing. I had won seven dollars on each of the two previous purchases of same, so I thought, what the heck, why not?

But unbelievavbly, the new clerk, a young bespectacled boy (appearing to be about the age of fifteen) actually asked me if I was twenty-one. Me... a wrinkled old codger of 71. At first I thought he was joking but then I realized that he was serious. He was doing exactly as he had been taught to do.

Good Lord! It's a wonder that he didn't demand to see a picute ID.


On my walks I have been snapping pictures of all the trees that catch my attention. Below is one that I beleive is a Eucalyptus Tree, but I'm not sure.

I'll ask an expert if it is or not.
And I know just the guy to ask.

Recently I had occasion to look up the word 'egotism' and found that it is a noun defined as 'self-importance' -- some synonyms are: arrogance, boastfulness, bragging, conceit, immodesty, narcissism,pride, self-absorption, self-admiration, self-aggrandizement, selv-centeredness, self-praise, selfishness, vainglory, vainness, and vanity.

Note: egoism is an attempt to get excessive personal recognition for yourself while egotism is an exaggerated opinion of your own importance

So it goes . . .

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