Wednesday dawns overcast and windy, but a warm 73° as rain cells scurry about, soaking one area, and leaving another bone dry in the beginning of the 4th year of drought. Kipper da budgie greets me with shrill chirps and buzzes. I am wondering who dropped a quarter in her today.
And today is another Bruin Hilda day. I am getting used to the torture, and might even be beginning to enjoy her loving lashes as she escorts me from one device to the other. If only I didn’t have to make the trip into the metropolis and the attending labyrinth of the hospital corridors. But I guess you can’t have everything. Of course, my answer is “Why not? Who wrote that asinine rule?”
Later in the day an installer will come and put in a new broadband service called WDSL … sort of a WiFi network that will give me more bandwidth and higher speeds than satellite. And almost no latency (a geek term for sluggish performance). So for the next eight months, I’ll have two internet providers until my original satellite contract expires. But I’ll call them tomorrow and change to their lowest level of service, which combined with the Wi-Fi will cost me less than Satellites best service plan.
Yeah. I imagine you are just titillated with that revelation, aren’t you!
Not much happening on the writing front as life advances. It is a time of reassessing goals, becoming more reflective in my day-to-day routine, and working at becoming an elder statesman as the new congregation flourishes. It is kinda like when your kid grows up, and you have to back off and let them soar or crash.
But it is good. I never was a good committee worker anyway. Few good things come from committees. But then, few bad things come from them too. Committees on the whole are not geared for risk taking. I think the last committee meeting pretty much killed any desire in me to assist in taking the congregation to the next level. My work here is done. Now sit back and smile a lot.
And writing. Journaling is my speed today. I have little desire to lead you unwilling down mystical paths, inculcating religious themes in your mind without broaching the subject of God. It used to be fun to engage in that sort of benign deception. And the political fire in the belly is dying. Here is a great nation, slowly dying on the altar of greed and selfishness. Noble themes, the grand egalitarian experiment of the Founding Masons, have been pushed aside for effete academic intellectualism, and both political parties are culpable in the descent into decadence. RIP … it was a grand experiment, but man is not truly capable of freedom.
And my ambitions of a flourishing garden are slowly dying too. The persistent drought and my own debility combine to simplify my life. Keep the grass and weeds mowed down so that a prairie fire does not destroy my home is pretty much the rule now. The riding mower reigns, the garden spade is retired.
And with those somewhat morose meanderings, I bid you a pleasant good morning as I go to prepare by body for Bruin Hildas loving lashes …