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Missouri Archery Park Failage
Aug. 10th, 2009 07:47 pm
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The thing on the right is a set of archery targets. You aim your arrows at those targets. Hell of a place to put a bench, eh?
Aug. 10th, 2009
see more Fail Blog
The thing on the right is a set of archery targets. You aim your arrows at those targets. Hell of a place to put a bench, eh?
Butterflies. Lots of 'em
Aug. 10th, 2009 08:32 pmThis weekend, the town was awash with these cute little white winged butterflies, flitting about the flowers and the greenery and performing the most brilliant aerobatic dances with one another.
Obviously, this was their mating season - and to see them circling about one another, so high up off the ground, was a brilliant sight, particularly when you consider that this meant that one was witnessing some creatures having lots of sex.
Oh, and there was a big monarch butterfly in town, right in front of the King Street bus station, and another one with a huge body and golden wings inside the bus. I had to let it out of the bus before the terrified passenger squashed it.
Why are people so afraid of bloody butterflies and moths?
Obviously, this was their mating season - and to see them circling about one another, so high up off the ground, was a brilliant sight, particularly when you consider that this meant that one was witnessing some creatures having lots of sex.
Oh, and there was a big monarch butterfly in town, right in front of the King Street bus station, and another one with a huge body and golden wings inside the bus. I had to let it out of the bus before the terrified passenger squashed it.
Why are people so afraid of bloody butterflies and moths?
Birthday Cakes
Aug. 10th, 2009 10:30 pmIt's been a while since my last birthday. Someone on my f'list's having her birthday in two days' time, and one of my old bosses from a former workplace had her birthday today.
So naturally, thoughts have dwelt all day on birthday cakes.
One of my all time favourite birthday cakes, ironically, is something I can no longer eat, due to my chronic chocolate allergy. Black Forest Gateau. I could eat that stuff until it was coming out of my ears. Black Forest Gateau was the bees' knees.
What, pray tell, is your favourite birthday cake? And I am saying this in honour of everybody in this group whose birthday it might have been today, as well as for anyone who'll be celebrating tomorrow and Wednesday.
So naturally, thoughts have dwelt all day on birthday cakes.
One of my all time favourite birthday cakes, ironically, is something I can no longer eat, due to my chronic chocolate allergy. Black Forest Gateau. I could eat that stuff until it was coming out of my ears. Black Forest Gateau was the bees' knees.
What, pray tell, is your favourite birthday cake? And I am saying this in honour of everybody in this group whose birthday it might have been today, as well as for anyone who'll be celebrating tomorrow and Wednesday.
Writer's Block: Memo to Myself
Aug. 10th, 2009 10:46 pm[Error: unknown template qotd]
Do what you're doing now. Don't let anybody tell you what you're going to do. Chances are they screwed up their own lives so much that they're trying to get a vicarious thrill by forcing you to do the things they wanted to do, but threw away the chance to do.
Oh. You know all that maths crap the teachers are trying to tell you about? Learn it, and do it really well - but for your own reasons. You can't do space stuff or learn much science without learning about maths. Look for books on the subject. Lots and lots of books on it.
And languages. Fer Gods' sakes, learn languages. As much as you can. You really need to learn when people are talking to you in some language - because there's more languages than English.
And yeah, kid - I know exactly what you mean. I get people saying "What are you learning XYZ for? That's stupid!" and "XYZ is for losers!" even now. Trust me, younger me - you're right. You can do things they can't even dream of doing. And the things they can do that you can't? Not. Worth. Bothering. With.
The only regret, my beloved younger me, is that because you were born in such a remote hick backwards part of North Wales, in such a backwards time as the 1960s, you will never get the chance to do what I am doing at your age. You will have to wait until you are grown up before all the joys of adulthood are within your grasp.
Even had you been more capable of communicating - and you were never shy of exploring, as I can well remember - what your parents could do for you back then was shockingly limited. And yes, I know, my poor, dear, sweet inner child, you were a high - end genius back then, a real Barry Ween. MENSA would have snapped you up like a shot, with your 180 IQ.
But because you lived in North Wales, I don't even think they knew your part of the world existed, let alone that it could produce geniuses.
In years to come, child me, know that I will look back on you, and love you, and think of who you were. And that I'll be able to reach inside me and still know that you're inside there.
Do what you're doing now. Don't let anybody tell you what you're going to do. Chances are they screwed up their own lives so much that they're trying to get a vicarious thrill by forcing you to do the things they wanted to do, but threw away the chance to do.
Oh. You know all that maths crap the teachers are trying to tell you about? Learn it, and do it really well - but for your own reasons. You can't do space stuff or learn much science without learning about maths. Look for books on the subject. Lots and lots of books on it.
And languages. Fer Gods' sakes, learn languages. As much as you can. You really need to learn when people are talking to you in some language - because there's more languages than English.
And yeah, kid - I know exactly what you mean. I get people saying "What are you learning XYZ for? That's stupid!" and "XYZ is for losers!" even now. Trust me, younger me - you're right. You can do things they can't even dream of doing. And the things they can do that you can't? Not. Worth. Bothering. With.
The only regret, my beloved younger me, is that because you were born in such a remote hick backwards part of North Wales, in such a backwards time as the 1960s, you will never get the chance to do what I am doing at your age. You will have to wait until you are grown up before all the joys of adulthood are within your grasp.
Even had you been more capable of communicating - and you were never shy of exploring, as I can well remember - what your parents could do for you back then was shockingly limited. And yes, I know, my poor, dear, sweet inner child, you were a high - end genius back then, a real Barry Ween. MENSA would have snapped you up like a shot, with your 180 IQ.
But because you lived in North Wales, I don't even think they knew your part of the world existed, let alone that it could produce geniuses.
In years to come, child me, know that I will look back on you, and love you, and think of who you were. And that I'll be able to reach inside me and still know that you're inside there.
A note before bedtime
Aug. 10th, 2009 11:07 pmI keep meeting this lady in town, in the Deli Express. We have exchanged first names with one another. Because people are averse to having their names mentioned here, I shall keep hers from this post.
Saturday afternoon, we were sitting in the Deli Express talking. She mentioned how alone she was in her big house. And how much the darkness frightened her.
I told her the following five basic truths about me.
"I am not afraid of the darkness. I am not afraid of silence. I am not afraid of being alone. I am not afraid of dying. And I am not afraid of living."
I left hanging in the air the idea that she may wish to take me up on the offer of seeing if I can enjoy spending the night in the darkness and silence of her place some night.
But neither of us would be alone. Of course.
And now, to tonight's dark, silent flat. And to sleep, perchance to yadda yadda.
Night night.
Saturday afternoon, we were sitting in the Deli Express talking. She mentioned how alone she was in her big house. And how much the darkness frightened her.
I told her the following five basic truths about me.
"I am not afraid of the darkness. I am not afraid of silence. I am not afraid of being alone. I am not afraid of dying. And I am not afraid of living."
I left hanging in the air the idea that she may wish to take me up on the offer of seeing if I can enjoy spending the night in the darkness and silence of her place some night.
But neither of us would be alone. Of course.
And now, to tonight's dark, silent flat. And to sleep, perchance to yadda yadda.
Night night.