Well, the eyes are fixed. The WordPress subscription has been renewed. I can see what I type now. I am out of excuses to not write each day.
I am a bit leery of picking up writing again, though. With me, it is a perishable skill. I have kept my hand in political commentary by writing quips and insults, but truthfully, they don’t engender deep thought processes, nor even intelligence for that matter.
So, I sit once again in front of the unblinking Cyclops and try to write a coherent stream of consciousness. The spell-checker is going crazy, and I don’t dare turn on the streaming grammar checker. Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a dyslexia checker. That would be useful for me as my brain cells shrink and wither with old age.
The news is full of big city violence horrors. The wisdom of the ‘wise’ has truly been confounded as new terror piles up on the old terror. Mayors and city fathers are quick to come up with useless fixes to the violence, but it gets worse with each passing day.
I would be fine with it, but the trouble is that big city folks are fleeing to the less crime ridden parts of the country and bringing their failed ideas and shrieking wokisms with them. They didn’t learn from the experience.
I can hardly wait until I can resume yard work again to shut out the noise. It will be mere days, now. I put the increasing birth pangs of wars, terrors and violence that is yet to come aside while puttering round in the yard. I look to one who is hidden within, and in whom I am hidden. There is no other hope for me.
So the daily Rota now includes writing a page on WordPress. It is a chore, but in some ways, a welcome one.