Last week, I began calling my pain clinic to ask them how I could minimize my exposure to potential vectors and still manage to complete the mandatory doctor visit so that I could receive the dole-out of pain medication that would keep me from jumping out of my skin for a month or so. …
It seems this is the year for serious (and I mean SERIOUS!) Spring cleaning here at the Tryptophan household. I have spent maybe 6–7 sessions of some hours out in the garage, simply clearing out junk and re-boxing books that were closely packed into boxes too large and heavy for my crumbling bones and irritated nerve-endings to manage.
So, the first thing this morning, I saunter out to the garage and start lifting the door — and a snake falls on my head. Literally. I had to shake the poor fellow off my shoulders. I think it must have been 3–4 feet long, a rat snake that disappeared back into the maze of boxes in the relative shady cool of the garage. …
A one line poem for LaMar Going’s Chalkboard prompt “Space”
A spark bridges a gap,
Creating all that is;
Without here and there, no space would exist,
No movement would animate the universe,
Open-ended, zero entropy, no excitement,
No sparkling light emissions, no reactions of life —
Space is change,
Space is imagination made manifest.
Here’s where the fun is: