Posted in Writing on December 26, 2008| Leave a Comment »
What a silly billy goo-goo I am. I have finally introduced my character, using the line, “You can call me Al.” At the same time, I was listening to the song “You can Call Me Al” by Paul Simon. And my character was introducing herself to Betty. How’s about that for coinkidinks? Ha, I chuckle at myself in a silly manner.
night,
dawn
Posted in Travel on December 23, 2008| Leave a Comment »
Christmas Eve eve, palm trees, a beach, Christmas trees, quiet. Oh so quiet. Finally quiet. A crumbling castle. Quiet. Lapping surf. Lots of walking. Sunlight to bask in. Quiet. Dogs running around everywhere. Seagulls look like a cross between pigeons and hawks, so I think they might not be as tranquil as we make them out to be.
A nice, peaceful way to spend the holiday, methinks. If you can’t have family, can you have quiet, tranquility, a beach, a sunset over the ocean, a castle, and smiling people pointing you in the right direction? Not so bad, not so bad. There could have been lots worse, and more stress, easily imagined. Rather, there was one of those quaint seaside towns, a working port (and yes, the Black Plague entered through this port, but that was hundreds of years ago, so let it go already, ‘kay?). I imagine that growing up in a place like that would be amazing. Talk about the history, think about the way their life is the sea, surrounded by the sea, working the sea, having been there for generations. Papa did it, Grandpa did it, great-grandpa did it… Do you continue the trend just because it’s in the family, can you imagine anything else to be done? I wouldn’t mind living somewhere like that. Certainly better than where I am now…
I’ll have to go back, as I couldn’t get to the Jurassic coast, or to Plymouth. I’d like to hit some lighthouses, I think.
Pleasantries,
night,
dawn
Posted in Books are Not for Eating on December 12, 2008| Leave a Comment »
If you have a femme fatale… do you really call her Phyllis Nirdlinger? I mean, seriously? In any era? And could I imagine a worse name for a femme fatale? Could I? I’m having trouble doing so… And I’m not wholly unimaginative most days. But, wow. Talk about a zinger.
night,
dawn
Mine Own Oxymoron 