A song that never ends ...

Did you ever have one of those days?  You know the kind.  You wake up in the morning and are blithely going about your daily tasks and then it hits you ... that little noise niggling in the back of your mind until you realize it is the song you have been singing for the past half hour.  Try as you might the silly thing will not go away ... at least not for very long.  Yesterday, I kid you not, I had Leonard Nimoy singing 'The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins" traversing the Misty Mountains.  I suppose it might have been worse.  It could have been Bobby Goldsboro warbling about poor Frodo and his nine fingers.  OK, so I have to admit I enjoy the animated versions of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings (even though they could have completed the story.)  This morning, it was a Chopin polonaise.  Frequently hymns will fill my mind.  Today my hubby and I were shopping and as we were driving down the street a red rubber ball bounced and came rolling in front of us ... you guessed it, there it was "Red Rubber Ball" by the Cyrkles.  What can I say?  I like music; well, most music that is.  A criteria centers on the fact that I have to be able to understand the words so that leaves out a whole gamut of Rap, Metallic, most Country and, dare I say it, Opera. There is one song, however, that will stick in my head for days.  I can mention it as I am doing right now and it may not phase me, but should there be a music station playing and this song come on, I am sunk.  Oh no!  There is is!  The lilting march is starting and now the Beatles are singing!  "... a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine ... We all live in a yellow..." 

Fresh bread

Today I'm talking bread ... the kind you eat, not the slang for currency.  I bake my own bread.  Is there anything that smells better than fresh baked or baking bread as that wonderful aroma from those wholesome loaves wafts its way throughout the house out open windows filling the area with a sense of warmth and goodness? There is a saying that "_____ is the best thing since sliced bread."  (I"ll let you fill in the blank.)  Sliced bread certainly is a novelty when one stops to think about it, but it doesn't necessarily fit the total picture of wonderful.  Each culture has their own version of bread each providing a sense of home and satisfaction.  In many places in the world one would be hard pressed to attempt to slice bread.  To name a few, think about the Middle Eastern pitas which are folded, the tortilla which is also folded, the Norwegian lefsa which is rolled and the Ashkenazic bagel ... Ok, so modern culture has decided the bagel may be sliced latitudinally to force them into the guise of a sandwich; still, the bagel did not begin with this intent and many sticklers refuse to give in here.  While we are talking sandwiches, this was the revolutionary idea of the 18th century which developed into the notion of slicing bread and credited to the British 4th Earl of Sandwich who refused to leave off gaming for meals and required his servants to bring him a piece of meat between two pieces of bread.  Before this time, chunks of bread were broken from a loaf and slathered with creamy butter and jams.  It did not need to be sliced to enjoy its savor.  I submit that hot fresh baked bread is better than sliced bread anyway you cut it.   One can almost smell the delicious atroma ...

Let's pay it forward

Pay it forward ... what a novel idea and so simple.  I realize this has been going on for a couple of years now.  It's a shame it hasn't been going on for millennia and, to be fair, perhaps it has.  Is it possible we just haven't noticed before a time when everybody is in a world of hurt and so a nice gesture takes on new meaning?  That is the whole point:  to pay it forward is an act of giving to someone something you have even just a little bit extra of without expecting anything in return.  We might think of this as some of the milk of human kindness.  Everyone has needs and these needs are not always a tangible commodity.  Think about the manner in which a smile or laughter is able to brighten up a person's day.   What about a word of encouragement to the person who is feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.  I think everyone should try to make at least one person happy everday.  I don't mean just among our friends, although friends have needs too.  I am thinking of the person who may not be the most well-liked of our associates.  They too have needs.  Do not forget the perfect stranger and this is where the whole pay it forward program began.  I challenged my FB friends to day to give abit of encouragement to those around them as we begin a new week.  Let us all take up the challenge and follow through in our day to day lives.  We might be surprised by how much brighter our paths seem to us.

My elusive goal

Some days it is just simply difficult to attain my elusive goal.  Oh sure, I wake up in the morning with a grandiose scheme in my head as to everything that will be accomplished during the course of the day.  I do all the little things that are necesary to get myself going.  Today this included scaring our tomcat who assumed he was next in line for the shower.  I started a load of laundry and swept the floors.  Is my list still on task?  Good!  Now, how about indulging in that second mug of coffee ... Mmmm.  Might as well take a break and look over the paper or checkout things on FB.  After all, I might have missed something since the last time I was on.  Post and update.  It is important to remember I have my own page to worry about plus the page for my book.  Done?  Good!  Now, get back to work.  I have a sink full of dishes from last night and hubby wants pancakes for brunch since it's Saturday, but he'll fix them.  Yay!  I clear out the sink and hubby walks in the door.  Better pile those dishes back into the sink so he can work!  Meanwhile, I put clothes in dryer and hang tops that need to be line dried.  I help hubby by setting the table and brunch is ready.  We sit down to eat and one of our daughters calls, but we can call her back.  Brunch is over and I clear the table, but will have to wait to wash dishes because the griddle is still hot.  Then I check on the laundry and the phone rings again.  I can afford to chat amicably for a few minutes before foisting this call off onto hubby.  I finally get to call our daughter back and an hour later, before getting off the phone, she is posting a recipe on my FB page and since I am there anyway I might as well see if anything new has happened, right?  I knew you would agree.  Now, by this time the griddle is cool and I can get the dishes done.  With that task finished, I check on the laundry again and decide it is time to terrorize another one of the cats by doing the vacuuming.  Snack time!  We munch a couple crackers and drink a glass of water ... yeah, I know not very high class, but it is what it is on a Saturday.  I finally get to put the load of scatter rugs in the dryer and fold and put away the clothes that were washed today.  Sitting down at my keyboard to write this blog I am about two-thirds of the way through when my daughter calls again just to chat while she takes a break to go check on her mail.  Twenty minutes later I am back to typing and correcting all the typos made while trying to type and hold onto the phone at the same time.  Now it is time to prepare dinner and I still haven't had time to work on anything related to my book today ... sigh ...  Nevertheless, I did get a few things done and as Scarlett O'hara would say, "Tomorrow is another day."

Lest we forget

Lest we forget - today is the day of Yom HaShoah in the nation of Isreal - the Day of Remembrance.  It is the day when the holocaust is remembered.  It is a day the world should remember.  Let us never forget this horrific act and vow to see this inhumanity never again perpetrated against any group of people.  It saddens me to know there are those in the world who did in the past and others who would now or in the future turn a blind eye to atrocities against mankind and a deaf ear towards screams for mercy.  I pity those who claim such actions never took place, yet, just maybe, and I am trying to put the best constructin on the subject, just maybe the facts are too heinous for their minds to accpt as real.  We cannot change the past; we can only strive to be better to make sure the future does not re-live the past.

Pithiness

Time to talk about a word.  As I have said before, I like words.  Depending upon your point of view, I can spend or waste a lot of time looking up a word in the dictionary.  Sometimes I just want to check on a variant spelling; sometimes I am narrowing down the meaning and right there my focus is lost as my eyes flit over scores of words.  I find myself reading down a whole column before I remember I need to get back to the task at hand or my computer will go into screensaver mode and I realize I am not even within the bounds of the first letter of the word I was trying to look up in the first place.  The word for tonight is 'pithy' - 'of, like or full of pith'.  Sounds daring.  Well, what is pith.  I think of fruit having pith so it's sort of the meat of the matter or something with substance.  Pith has substance, gist or vigor.  According to the dictionary, 'pithy' means 'full of substance, meaning or force, as a pithy style.'  So, pithy stresses a deeper, more substantial meaning to what is being expressed.  While a useful word, I have also discovered pithy is also a fun word to use when playing word games.  Having been challenged for use of this word on the grounds that I had both made up the word and was trying to lead a group of students astray by deliberately mispronouncing a word which was not exactly school appropriate, I pulled out my dictionary and won the round.  Words can be lifesavers and gamesavers; nevertheless, the study of words can be a pithy experience to round the corners of life's expressions.

Just when you thought you were safe

Ah, Springtime!  I love this time of year.  The days slowly lengthen.  Even though the wind still howls it somehow feels warmer.  One can stand outside at night to bask in the beauty of the stars without feeling too chilled.  The grass changes from a ruddy brownish hue to a lovely shade of green.  Trees and shrubs begin to leaf out so quickly the changes go from weekly to daily and almost hourly in their growth.  Bulbs which have been peeking out of the ground are suddlenly tall stalks with flowers waiting to burst open and then one by one the yard is exploding in the colors of crocuses, hyacinths and paperwhites all in shades of yellow, white or purple.  The daffodils and jonquils rapidly take over shouting their glory in hues of yellow and orange with a touch of white.  Purple and red lilacs scent the neighborhood and tulips provide a flourish of pinks, yellows, orange, red and purple.  Sometimes they are ruffled and others striped to add to their performance.  The short winter brought my spring flowers out early this season.  The irises seem to have sprung up overnight and are just beginning to open.  Not to be outdone, all the cats in the area decide it is time to stake a claim and go through their rituals for procreating.  Birds flock back to the area; some more noisily than others as they too locate safe havens for nesting and choosing their mates.  Though the days are growing longer we have to put up with the ridiculous daylight savings time, but get used to it after a few months in time to turn the clocks back once more.  Storm windows are removed and houses are opened up to the cleanliness of the awakening earth.  Warmer weather also allows one the chance to open up the windows at night to breathe in the fresh air and get a truly good night's sleep and all is right with the world.  Nevertheless, just when you thought you were safe, it is too late.  There is nowhere to hide from the pungent perfume wafting on the gentle breeze of those cute, little, black and white, nocturnal critters wandering about leaving their own telltale mark on an otherwise peaceful night.

A day of tornadoes

Though the wind continues, we weathered the storm.  We had a couple of days warning for the day of tornadic activity that hit the central part of our country yesterday.  NOAA (National Oceanic Atmospheric Administration) Weather Service told us to prepare.  I'm not certain how we were to prepare other than to make certain we had batteries, flashlights and candles available.  We knew we would have water nearby.  Personally, we stayed close to home because of our pets.  They are part of our family too.  The local weatherman stated those in our viewing area facing the onslught of storms amidst warmer temperatures would be fortunate if the cloud cover remained strong throughout the day; if the clouds broke and the sun cam out, look out!  We were fortunate.  It was late afternoon into the evening hours as the storms moved into our section.  Sunset proved detrimental to any of the storm chasers who were out.  The time came.  A tornado was crossing into our county.  My husband and I grabbed our shoes, called for the cats and headed to the basement.  The dog had been inside for about two hours already.  I ran back upstairs to turn on porchlights and unlock the back door in case the neighbors needed to get in.  As is the case for several families in town, they don't have a decent basement.  In weather like this anyone is welcome.  I noticed vehicles lined up across the street.  People had come to find shelter at both the Lutheran and the Catholic churches across the street from us.  I dashed back down to the basement where we waited out the worst watching the weather broadcast on the television and listening to the storm outside.  The dog alternated trying to sit in my lap with eating and worrying our tomcat wouldn't let her out of the room.  The female cats never did come downstairs and would not have stayed if we had carried them.  This tornado was a monster.  The storm chasers said it was better than a half mile wide as it zigged and zagged and tossed debris.  It was heading straight for our town when it suddenly moved east of us and skirting the edges of another town danced above the reservoir before making its way north and east in its zig-zag pattern sashaying between the towns as it went.  After a little over an hour the threat was past.  Knowing we might have to go back down if another tornado blew up, we were able to come out of our refuge.  For now, it was over.  Other than wind and rain the night passed without another tornado for us.  We were fortunate, indeed.  Sure there was some wind damage and a few people lost vehicles when trees were toppled on top of them, but major damage from what could have been a horrendous situation with all our small towns around here was averted.  I think a lot of prayers were heard and know our communities are grateful. 

Declaring a genre

I do believe choosing a genre for a book one has written must be more difficult than writing the whole book to begin with.  Of course there are always exceptions because there must be many writers who know ahead of time they will write a passionate romance or a blood-curdling, crime casebook or even an alien infested scy-fy thriller.  Not so for me.  I get an idea going in my mind and start writing.  Now, I have to come up with the one category to best suit my tome.  It is fiction, thus non-fiction may be taken off the table straight away, but where does it fit?  That is a dilemma.  I can categorically state up front my novel is not science fiction, crime, horror, thriller nor is it a mystery.  There is romance within its pages but it is not a romance so that whole range is out.  I tried to give the characters life with its various facets, but I wouldn't say it is literary.  It is set within the bounds of history and is part of a saga covering generations of the same family so I could classify "Rune Speaker" as either historical fiction or a family saga.  There is the whole question of the relationship of the characters to the spirits of the land on which they live and, by the same token, to the gods, in this case the Norse gods.  For some reason this last aspect might classify the book as a fantasy.  I'm not certain I understand why.  Throughout history man has held belief in God, gods or spirits.  Just because one chooses to acknowledge a system of beliefs during a particular timeframe it does not seem proper to abrogate those beliefs to fantasy.  Nevertheless, this is my quandry:  into which genre do I place my book?  I've decided to go with historical fantasy solely for the appearance of several of the gods ... or, perhaps I should go with family saga.

An X-File?

Did you happened to see the stories about the NASA photographs taken of the mysterious monolith on Mars?  According to the story I read earlier today, every few years these photographs show up in the headlines and all the ufologists jump on the news.  If you saw the photos you might think of the alien monoliths depicted in "2001:  A Space Odessy".  I know, I did and I'm not alone in this.  I found myself searching for the apes in the photo.  The monolith looks oddly out of place on the Martian landscape.  Well, the scientists want to claim it is just a huge chunk of Martian rock broken from the mountains it stands near and if one were to build such a monument of sorts why would they place it in such close proximity to these mountains where it could get crush by said huge chunks of rock falling from said mountains.  They  point out the fact that when the photo was taken the sun was on the horizon creating an elongated shadow.  They also point out the HiRISE camera onboard the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter is able to photograph at 1 foot or 30 centimeters per pixel from the altitude of 180 miles or 300 kilometers and while this is good it is not quite good enough to bring out the images of the pits and crags in the rock's surface ... but it does explain the squared and sharp edges to the monolith, or does it?  It doesn't make sense to me as I look at the rounded edges of the pitted surface surrounding this huge piece of Martian debris.  Hmmm ... You know what they say?  The truth is out there ...

Silliness aside, it is an interesting article. 
The facts in this posting are based on the article "'Monolith' Object on Mars?  You Could Call it That" by Natalie Wolchover / LiveScience.com - Wed, April 11, 2012

For the sake of the green

I was thinking of titling this entry 'It's in the bag' but decided after last night's entry you might be tempted to assume I already have a book deal.  I wish it was so.  Alas, it is not the case ... yet.  Tonight I intend to hold forth on a recycling project I am involved with.  (Is that a dangling participle?  Oh well, it sounds better than 'with which I am involved'.)  But I digress.  I truly believe we have become a throw away society from diapers, to styrofoam to small appliances.  All this stuff needs to go somewhere and let's face it, landfills aren't always the answer.  Recycling plants take a lot of items.  Some companies will buy back small appliances and cellular service providers will take old cellphones.  One item that is difficult to recycle is the plastic grocery bag.  They will take all manner of plastic items at our local recycling pick-up but not plastic bags.  I heard of a project which makes use of the bags by fashioning them into sleeping mats.  I kid you not!  The bags are cut into strip loops and the loops slipped together to form 'plarn'.  'plastic+yarn = plarn'.  Rolling this material into huge balls makes it easier to work with just like regular yarn.  Using a size Q crochet hook (it's huge), the bags are crocheted into sleeping mats and either sent to disaster areas or shelters.  I will not take the credit here as someone in a different community had the ladies from her church working on these mats and now the surrounding communities all have groups working on this project.  I jumped on the chance to get involved and have the ladies in two towns working on one facet or another in making these mats.  I had to learn to crochet all over again!  I tried to get some of the retired men to participate but after the first workday or two they decided it wasn't as much fun as they would like.  I think it's more likely they didn't want to have to listen to all the women.  Having completed several of these mats I have learned it is better to use just the grocery bags.  Heavier bags are too difficult to crochet and the produce bags are too flimsy and often have sticky residue.  Some may hear of this project and think it is silly or rather ditzy and a waste of time; nevertheless, the sleeping mats provide a bit of comfort for those who have very little in this life.  The mats also keep the bags out of the landfills and I'm all for that.

Taking steps

Time to mention the book.  I warned you ...  I took another step today.  Maybe it's no big deal to you, but it is to me.  I created a FB page for my book "Rune Speaker".  I'm pretty pumped about this action.  It gets information about my book out there for people who may not have known I was writing a book.  A couple of weeks ago I created a web page for my book and last week started this blog.  In the movie "What About Bob?" a psychiatrist played by Billy Crystal is continually expressing the need of his patient played by Bill Murray to take baby steps until he is ready to take on the more important moves in his life.  I must say I think I've taken some big steps here in the last couple of weeks and I am excited by the very notion of seeing my book in print.  So where am I at with my book?  The manuscript is complete.  It is time to think about composing those query letters to prospective agents.  Actually, I have been working up the necessary hook and hopefully have snagged the right sentence.  Nevertheless, before I write any letters, I think it might be a good idea to convert the formatting of the Word doculment file from the 2003 version on my old computer to the 2010 version on my new computer.  It is my goal to do this without losing the whole manuscript.  That will be a step worth celebrating.

The brew that refreshes

Moving on from the solemn to the sobbering I sit at my keyboard eagerly awaiting my freshly brewed mug of coffee.  That's right, a mug, no chintzy meager portions of this delightful beverage for me.  I can smell the aromatic potion as this marvelous scent wafts its way through the house and down the hallway to my study.  Plain, unaltered coffee; that's the drink for me.  I have loved coffee since I was a child.  My grandmother used to think we needed to put milk and sugar in it to make it palatable for us.  Little did she know that when we were at home we would sneak the coffee Mom and Dad left in their cups when they wweren't looking.  As I grew to my teen years I was allowed to join the adults in partaking of this wonderful beverage.  When I attended college a beloved professor of English literature wrote parts in a skit for my best friend and me.  My character was Kathy Olsen after Mrs Olsen from the old Folger's coffee commercial.  I wore a Scandinavian sweater and carried around a coffe pot.  Guess he had my number.  My parents saw to it I had a coffee maker for my dorm room.  Now this was no 12-cup pot; it was a full blown 30-cup coffee maker so my friends and I would have plenty of coffee when we were studying.  I was given the nickname 'Coffee Kathy'.  When my husband and I began dating we could be seen walking about campus holding hands ... but our free hands each held a cup of coffee.  I once knew a pastor who referred to coffee as 'Norwegian holy water'.  I think perhaps he was right.  I know of very few people of Scandinavian descent who dislike coffee.  Over the past few years there has been quite an argument going back and forth as to whether one must drink decaffeinated or may partake of regular coffee.  There seem to be a few nods in favor of decaffeinated associated with feeling jittery and adverse effects on blood pressure.  There are nods to the contrary concerning blood pressure.  An amount of caffeine is contained in various medications including those for headaches.  More recently studies have come out stating a benefit of caffeine contained specifically in coffee in delaying the onset of Alzheimer's.  Nevertheless, each must make up his/her own mind in the matter.  To me the positives outway the negatives.  Now, where's my coffee?

The culminating event

If I could choose one day of the year for its significance, Easter would be that day; for it is the celebration of the culminating event in the history of man.  Since the day man first fell from grace and received the promise of a way out of his degradation, his long history plodding through the muck and mire he made of his life and the rest of creation was spent waiting.  Not that it was all bad; there are blessings as well, too many of them to count in fact, but man is often too arrogant or greedy to see them and so he hastily shoves them aside and snatches at the shadows he thinks will make him happy.  In time he has forgotten what he needs and waits for he knows not what.  Yet, a remnant remained of those who still grasped the truth of their reality.  The glimmer of hope shone before them as a beacon star guiding a ship through the dark of night.  When the fullness of time was ripe the waiting was over and the promised redemption grew to fruition in the Son sent to live our lives for us.  Though his record was untarnished he suffered our cruel judgment and died a horrible death.  Many might think 'So what?  Everybody dies.'  The story does not end there.  His death was not the completion of the promise.  If Christ had not been raised from the dead, it would all have been for nothing.  Though the authorities tried to cover it up, the tomb was empty.  He is not here.  He is risen!

The day between ...

When I was growing up part of our family's traditions for the Easter holiday weekend was watching one of the various movies depicting the Easter story.  Movies such as The Greatest Story Ever Told, King of Kings, The Robe, The Ten Commandments and Ben Hur had a certain calming effect as well as strengthening the elements of the Biblical narrative for their audiences (even though the films tend to use poetic or artistic license in hopes of increased sales).  I still enjoy watching these films.  All the stops were pulled in their making and this was in the days before compertized imaging.  I have to admit my favorite is the more recent film The Passion of the Christ.  I don't care what one thinks about Mel Gibson and his personal trouble of late.  The Passion is a fine portrayal.  Gruesome though it may be, it portrays a much more accurate account.  Let's face it, crucifixion was not pretty.  And yes, Gibson did include aspects which were not strictly in the Bible.  Two scenes I don't think have appeared in any other film are God's teardrop marking the moment of Christ's death and, following closely, the absolute dismay of Satan.  Many people wonder what Jesus did in that space between his death and resurrection.  We confess it in the Apostle's Creed:  'He descended into hell.' to declare his victory.  If you have never seen this film, these poignant scenes give one pause to consider what happened on the day between as the narrative flows into the resurrection. 

A refection for Good Friday

I grew up in a time not that long ago, by the way, when one stopped midday on Good Friday to reflect on Jesus' death.  Schools were closed for the day and banks and other businesses closed between the hours of noon and 3:00 p.m.  Many mainline churches held tre ore (three hour) services during this time in rememberance of the time Jesus spent on the cross.  What a solemn yet uplifting experience this was!  Time was that Holy Week began on Palm Sunday and various aspects of Christ's passion were observed throughout the week.  Sadly this is no longer the norm.   Businesses are more intent on making money and some schools have already had their Spring Break.  I recall attending worship services every night during Holy Week and now some churches don't even offer the opportunity to worship on Good Friday.  Three of the four Gospels record the darkness which overcame the whole land from the sixth hour to the ninth hour as Jesus was being crucified.  At the risk of sounding a bit like Andy Rooney, have you ever noticed on Good Fridays between noon and 3:00 p.m. the sky tends to cloud over, if only for a portion of that time, even on bright sunny days?  The Father does not forget the sacrifice of his Son for us.  Should we?

But what does it mean?

Today is Maundy Thursday  What's that? ... Holy Thursday to some.  Today, especially, those of the Christian faith remember Christ's passion.  We remember Jesus' last supper with his disciples, his prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane, his betrayal and arrest and trials.  Some might think we have been doing that for the past six weeks since Ash Wednesday and we have; for the season of Lent in the life of the Christian Church is a period of penence as we reflect on Christ's sacrifice.  We use words in the Church that many are unfamiliar with and sometimes it is a simple matter of annual usage of a foreign sounding term.  I recall working with a group of Junior High students several years ago.  I mentioned the upcoming schedule of worship services during Holy Week and asked if the students planned on attending the service on Maundy Thursday.  One boy in the class thought for a moment and said "Well, Kathy, I'm pretty sure we can make it on Sunday Monday but I'm not sure about Monday Thursday."  And this is how many people hear the term.  Returning to the question of the meaning of Maundy Thursday we look at the word 'maundy'.  'Maundy' is derived from the Latin 'mandari' and then 'mandatum' in its dative form meaning 'command'.  This command refers to Jesus' washing the feet of his disciples and giving them the command to "Love one another as I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." ~ John 13: 34,35 ~  Emphasizing this attitude based on his love for us shown through his sacrifice for us the institution of the eucharist or the Lord's Supper or Holy Communion contains his command "Do this in remembrance of me."  And so we pause to remember and reflect and, hopefully, act upon this command in our lives.

What is it?

What?  What is it?  What is what?  That's what I'm asking and, by the way, who's on first?  When?  He's on second ... I don't know ... third base!  So, I think I may have mixed up part of this but don't you just love this old routine by Abbott and Costello?  Seems kind of apropos with baseball season looming before us.  Baseball is not my concern right now though.  I am trying to figure out what exactly a blog is.  You see, I like words.  Alas, the word 'blog' is not included in my dictionary.  This means it is a new word.  Now new words can come about through various means and then are accepted as part of our language through common and widespread usage.  A word can be the name of a common product such as Kleenex.  Let's face it, very few people say they need to run to the store to buy some facial tissue.  Everyone says Kleenex whether one purchases this particular brand or the store brand or the generic version in the yellow package with the black lettering.  What about acronyms?  Does anyone have any good acronyms for BLOG?  How about Building Lots Of Gold?  Brief Letters Or Gabbing?  The truth is it is problably something very simple and I am making the whole process more complex than need be.  Words can also come about through combining other words.  I envisioned a blockheaded blond bloke accompanied by his blotchy-furred, yet faithful, bloated bloodhound blowing hot and cold as he alternately studied blemished blueprints and thought about the blithe maid attired in black bloomers and blue blouson.  Well, any of these words could prove to be the first half of the word but what about the second half?  We need words which end with 'og'.  Are you ready?  Here are a few:  agog, bog, cog, dog, fog, frog, hog, jog, log, nog, and tog.  I was surprised to find the dictionary did not include 'sog', but then it was not keen on the words 'pog,' 'wog' or 'zog' either.  Now what have we here?  The blond bloke is agog at the thought of the maid. His mind in a fog, he leads  his bloodhound dog searching for the blueprint's cog.  Tripping over the hog he thought was a log he challenges a frog for a place in the bog whereupon he tears his new togs.  Thowing up his hands he says "Forget it!" and heads home for a nog.  What?  It could happen. Well, as this is all a bit ridiculous and mind frazzling I settled on combining the words 'brief' + 'log'; hence, a 'blog'.  Nevertheless, blog is now a word.  If anyone knows the true derivatin of the word'blog' I would love to hear it.

Beginning thoughts

Here begins my first blog entry.   Somewhere in the back recesses of my mind where I kept thoughts contained for such topics, I had the notion that blogs were written by people of monumental noteworthiness or others of a more questionable mind.  I doubt I fall into the first category ... at least at this point in time and I hope I do not fall into the second. Nevertheless, I believe I, too, have a voice to be heard. 

I feel one should state their goal any time one begins a new task.  There are an awful lot of blogs out there to be digested and probably an equal number of reasons for writing a blog.  I see this blog as an opportunity to express my thoughts in a manner which cannot merely be blurted out.  History, and literature are great topics especially if rolled together into a favorite book.  Have you ever just sat down to read the dictionary?  I enjoy words particularly old words and may from time to time ... what do I mean 'may'?  I fully intend from time to time to discuss words.  As humor should always play a part in our lives I intend to dabble in whimsy.  Last, but certainly not least I must forewarn you of my intentions to discuss various aspects of the book, and here some might aptly say saga, I have been writing and the journey towards publication of the first trek entitled "Rune Speaker".  I hope we can have fun with my ramblings and look forward to hearing form you.