What to do with this Binary Log?

A  blank page onto which to type out one’s thoughts. An opportunity to be witty, or profound or dull or self-absorbed.

Once a literary approach is found if it doesn’t read well or if it is silly or lacks readers., press the delete button and it can be gone. (gone is a relative term regards computer things)

For certain there are options.  Made possible by my dears, the WordPress folks.




The Beautiful Blessing of a Son

Middle age for us all. Our son included.  What a joy to have a good hug from a son who gives the very best hugs.  He tends the yards and keeps them lovely to stroll or just gaze upon. Doting on the Grand-dog-ter is another special skill set, but it is a beauty to behold. On Sunday mornings, after I’ve gotten ready for church, the only son will offer a compliment as to my appearance, or maybe dust me off if necessary.

The joy of having people who care, who love, who laugh and make us laugh is a joyful blessing.


Choose wisely your attitude

Mr. Amazing and I enjoyed a popular tourist’s venue.  We paid a lot of money for each ticket. The outdoor theater setting was a perfection of light and temperature, like an impressionist’s painting come to life. There were no disappointments for either of us. The performances were well done, the costumes brilliantly colored and uniquely creative. The actor’s timing and talent were a pleasure to watch.

For we two avid people watchers there were bonuses to see all around us. At the generous break time, we waited in line for our sandwiches and drinks. Sprinkled about were tables and shades and lawn benches, and a few folding chairs.

Near where we stood, a man sat with his head bowed onto the back of his hands.  His fingers, shoulders, and every part of him sagged, deeply to the ground.  A woman leaned toward him and asked. “Do you want me to call the pilot and have the plane readied?”

Side to side he shook his head, a frown consumed his mouth, his eyes, and his forehead. Seeing his motion, she hurriedly said. “We could go to Denver or San Francisco. Anywhere really.”

“No. There is nothing there, anywhere really. No.”

We took in their wardrobe of wealth. The woman’s expression was clearly one of loving compassion. Their skins glowed with vigor and health and a clarity in their eyes that could only be from physical health. Diamonds sparkled at her neck and wrist.

Again he said, genuinely and heartfelt from his perspective. “No. There is nothing there, anywhere really. No.”

The Page

Passwords to open this site were not as I remembered.  Try, trying again, several efforts and combination of letters and numbers, finally, I got it to open.  Eeeeek

After a couple of months absence, my writerly self-returns and I was quite surprised to see the opening page.  How much can be lost from one’s memory in such a short time?

Oh well.  Enough about that.  This page continues to be under construction. I am grateful for your patience, dear reader.


The Future Remains Open

As backwards as it may sound to the reading ear, the future, any future of anyone, anywhere at any time: Remains open.

Constantly. Infinitely definitely open.

Open to change, open to improve. Open for new ideas and new directions, and dreams, hopes and goals and joys.

There are doors and windows open. There are no ceilings; glass or otherwise.  There are no bars, barriers or limitations.

Our universes are expanding and ALL the scientists know expansions will be infinite

Bitter or sweet

Bitter or sweet, thick or airy, each concoction was an intake of the experience, the trauma, or the chaos of thoughts that wounded the seeker.
Before the Potion Lady they would sit, burdened, and wounded by life and its people and its ways.
 Some of the potions were fragrant, aromatic intoxication.  Others were to moisten the dry places, or color the colorless. Most were teas. Occasionally a balm of herbs aromatic and a few sachets.  Then there were the candles, rich and lush with Rose and Lavender. Their flickering flames home of Angels, their scent purifying and eliminating anything not of Light.
 More than anything,  the Extracts were the words that spilled from the Potion Lady’s   lips. Truth, insights, wisdom of what  troubled the Seeker. Truths the seeker did not want, but truth anyway. 
Disclaimer: All entries are Fictional creations for reading entertainment. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental and a testament to my creativity. No professional advice is given.


What an amazing world. A place to write out loud as the keys make a clickety-clack sound.