A blah day which no one wants to hear about. I agree.
Do you ever get the blahs? One thing that perks me up sometimes is a photo. I’ll search my Media file to see if I can find one that helps.
NOPE. that one won’t do. Maybe this one?

OH YEAH!
A blah day which no one wants to hear about. I agree.
Do you ever get the blahs? One thing that perks me up sometimes is a photo. I’ll search my Media file to see if I can find one that helps.
NOPE. that one won’t do. Maybe this one?

OH YEAH!
Love it. My name is Nancy too.
There is an author I greatly admire.
She is a novelist and essayist, a columnist and, well, I guess although the word is out of fashion, you could also call her an orator.
She is profound and brilliant.
She is also on Twitter.
And so I am following her on Twitter.
I am a fan.
But something confounds me. I think something has changed with the terrific writer. Or perhaps, it has just taken me a while to notice. Perhaps my admiration got in the way of my perception. (which, in today’s world, is probably often true)
Her tweets are not exactly profound.
As a matter of fact, they consist mainly of the same thing:
Complaints.
Oh dear, how she complains. Nothing makes her happy. Everything displeases her. And there seems to be no tiny incident not worth her scorn. There is no sense of proportion. She is as upset…
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Pinterest: An arthropod is an invertebrate animal having an exoskeleton (external skeleton), a segmented body, and jointed appendages. Arthropods are members of the phylum Arthropoda (from Greek ἄρθρον árthron, “joint”, and ποδός podós “leg”, which together mean “jointed leg”), and include the insects, arachnids, and …
Just what you wanted to do this freezing spring night, eh? But wait another minute! They’re not counting bugs–they’re counting species of bugs! –Like, maybe mama, papa and baby in each specie! That gets us to 300 separate bugs in my house, which is a small apartment, and….
You probably don’t remember it, but over a year ago, on this blog, I quoted reports from the literature that recommended that if you hear voices in your head you would do well to dialogue with them. Glad today to see in Harper’s Magazine’s “Findings” of February 2018, p. 96., the following:
“Isn’t that what Gestalt therapy was all about?”
“I think so.”

The horse should ideally pull
the cart. Agreed? But if the horse
is not in sight you’re left with
the cart part, and must envision
what kind of horse will pull your
poem into the light of day.
Problem is, most cart-pullers are
tired, worn out and hacknied, lacking
sufficient strength to bear the load.
Love, death, flower, tree, even Trump
won’t do it today. The backside
of an eyeball? Ingrown toenails
seeking freedom? The charley horse
that sets you dancing? Or the rat
poison under the sink?
What’s common to all of us?
Hate? A drag. Sorrow? Too close.
Hope? Delusional. Denial?
Not me! Revolution? Not yet.
Pain? Love my oxycodone.
Truth? But doesn’t that depend on
where you’e standing? Reality!
Let’s hear it for reality!
Really? I’ll vote for Make Believe:
Two golden butterflies pull my
cart through rainbows in the sky.
Oh my! Curly tresses, rosy cheek,
music charms when ere I speak.
BIG RED RIDER
Not so long ago, in the normal
world of things, a little woman
on her way to visit grandma met
a big red wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“You can trust me,” he said with
a grin, “She’s my grandma too and
I want to see who she voted for.”
The little woman became scared when
the wolf’s teeth began to show from
under the sheep’s pearly white skin,
and she feared for grandma’s health.
“I’m going on a picnic” she protested,
“on a restful picnic.” “Well who did you
vote for, my pretty?”
“I cannot tell a lie: Bernie.”
Big Red huffed and he puffed and he
grew red in the face too. “Can you prove
you’re a citizen and not a wetback?
Your hair is black, unlike mine, so
the ICE team may grab you and grandma
too. If you’re not for me you’re ag’in me.”
Oh where was the brave hunter who
would step out and save her? Was he
already fired for being too sharp?
“Fie fie, sir” she cried out hotly—
“How many of the 10 Commandments
have you broken in office? Mueller,
my brave hunter will arrive at last.”
So perhaps the normal world of things
will return without whimper and
the denizens of Make Believe Land
will shine with the child’s regained hope
that love can be gentle, respectful and
honest, and that truth is no longer a
carelessly tossed flapjack.
OMG!
Okay, folks … I want you to be sure that you are sitting down for this one. Sitting? Good. Now, take your left hand and firmly cup your jaw so that it cannot fall to the floor. Ready?
Facebook had plans to take health records – such as a patient’s age, prescriptions and number of hospital visits – and link it to their Facebook data. Facebook had already approached hospitals and health organizations with the idea, touting that it could (somehow?) help improve patient care. “For example, the Facebook data might reveal that a patient did not have many friends or did not receive many messages, so might need a nurse to visit them at home. It might also reveal that a patient did not speak English as their first language, which would help the hospital plan the person’s care.” Pardon, but wouldn’t the hospital already be aware that…
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A third side of the coin…
Can’t pick up rocks no more
’cause something’s under there
just a-waiting to suck your blood
and pull out all your hair.
Can’t trust nuttin’ any more
It’s all rotted through
The young’uns won’t never know
how wishes might come true.
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