Sunday, July 27, 2014 -( 22°C / 72°F @7:45 pm )-

—Trying to clear a space in the basement where I can bring musty boxes from storage in and go through stuff, I found our turn table, brought it upstairs, had a couple real world adventures with Cathi and plugged it in. The first thing I played was “Song to a Seagull” by Joni Mitchell.

But, before I got to plugging in the turntable, & before Cathi got up, I carried two old boxes in from the van and went through old bouncy castle for sale papers and notebooks and found a couple treasures. One of which I may not be able to format for this blog. I’m also wondering if I should attempt to update to WordPress 3.9.1 … Would this theme work with the new update?

On a brighter note, Cathi and I went out to get a couple things and we spotted a bunch of plants in front of the Home Hardware store on Main Street. On impulse we went in and now have a bit of a brightly coloured flower garden in the “Zen Corner” of our back yard. I will take a photo or two in the next couple days, but the sky is threatening storm-ness at us.

So, anyway, lets see how we’re doing here…

—————Jim

This is an old version of WordPress That doesn’t format the way newer versions do. It doesn’t always format the way I’d like it to. But it is useful and I like the way it looks.

I’m not sure that it would carrera obstaculos hinchables retain all it’s features that I like if I clicked on the “Please update now” link that appears every time I log in or even think of logging in…

So, if this thing drives you batty, don’t read it.

—–Jim

I’ve seen a lot of green things lately
growing, trimmed to fit a grasping
need to feel our power over life
and cars still speed past my window
in a hurry to get to somewhere
they’ll probably wish they weren’t
yet their noises sometimes call me
to follow as far as your door.

Don’t ask me how I feel
I’ll tell you, whenever something structure gonflable touches me
or reaches for my eyes or mind
some complicated network
made of things like telephone lines
somehow pulls impressions
to a place where they’re measured and
set in line with things that have
happened
before.

Don’t ask what turns me on
the music that once filled me
echoes of small ideas and wasted energy
though I’m sick of reacting to things
I can’t control
I’m lazy and lagging
I want to start something
that makes sense
beyond all this
but I’m tired.

Don’t ask me what I want
I’m afraid to tell you
someone with soft hair
whose eyes I wouldn’t push
away from my mind, leaves
an image that won’t let me think
to the time I’ll stop my dreaming.

Don’t ask me what I’ve found
I’ll skip over the rulers of darkness
and light
and mathematical formulas
that can teach you why
the Earth moves and grass grows
and forty thousand people a year
have to die in cars;

And I’d tell you
I’ve learned that I need her
Her!
and daily look for reasons
to make her laugh
which set aside
fears that keep my hand
from reaching for hers.

Jim Wellington (4t try, august 24, 1971)