Blogophilia 2.13

Since it appears FB has permanently disabled notes for me (I got moved to NEW FB about a month ago) and I've got an uncooperative scrap of a story going. I think I will just do a writer's dump for this week.

My mother claimed she kissed the Blarney stone when she was a young child. She was always about wild stories and truth embroidering, so that claim would be plausible. Except nobody traveled to Ireland from Depression-era Savannah. Nobody had the means to. But it many ways, I inherited the ability to spin a tale, to pick situations from the game of life and give the wheel a spin. Sometimes I land on Bankruptcy, but more often I come out with the spouse and kids. These days, I'd say I traveled to Nova Scotia to see the Northern Lights, but I wouldn't have anything on my sisters who actually saw them when they lived in Upstate New York before I was born.

Have you meditated on the telephone poles lining a highway? They are dead trees for the living and the dead. They string together with a living thread.

The Topic is from Dave Coon, whose blue notes we miss.

The pic is from Irene Melgoza

Besides Northern Lights, the guesses are Iceland, Eerie, Stark Wasteland, Icy and Cold.


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