Travel Barnacles

 

Travel barnacles attach themselves to our plans,

they add weight to us and to our time in line.

They cling in the form of delays, overbookings,

misplaced chargers, half-packed bags,

the forgotten passport, the extra screening.

They slow us not just in miles per hour,

but in patience, in breath, and energy.

Some of this I don't understand.

 

but it's good.

 This is an old, discontinued blog.

ZC

Swiss Colony

 

The fine print in the catalog

says your gift may vary

The message added to the box

misspelled, have a Mary

Shipping is an extra charge

specify a date –

Doesn’t matter what you put

it’s going to get there late

Nothing in the picture

will ever match the item

Guaranteed to get there fresh

just don’t try to bite em.

 

What now ?

 

I was stuck.  I couldn’t reach the next edge to pull myself any higher, and I wasn’t sure how much longer the edge of my boot would stay on that tiny lip of boulder below me.   Mark was giving me words of encouragement from the next higher plateau but also kept suggesting I hurry, as the storm was moving in quickly. 

I tried to not focus on how much my muscles were aching, but they seemed to be keeping my attention.  Suddenly Mark cried out.  I yelled up to see what the problem was but got no response.   I called him again, and still no answer.  Whatever had happened had now left me alone, stuck on the side of this cliff.

Now the primary thought in my head was just what was waiting to greet me at the top?  Was there something up there that had hurt or killed my friend?  The only way I could possibly climb back down would be to release the safety line presently clipped to my belt.  I had no clue if it was still affixed to Mark or if someone else was now pulling it tight.  The only thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t stay in this position any longer.

 

 

 To be continued

Sounds of November

 

A pie upon the window ledge

Cake upon your plate

A bet that sure could use a hedge

Grandpa's running late,

Tuning forks go on the left

Spoons are on the right

Kettle drums to hold the soup

Candles that won't light,

Open windows for a breeze

Don't let it slam the door

Bless you every time you sneeze

It's what we're thankful for.

                           zc

Z. Corwin at 350° for One Hour

 

With just a pinch of attention and a dash of whimsy, I cooked up a scheme that was going to get me through this life unscathed.  Early in my youth the military whisked me away to some foreign country and left me there to rise on my own.

 

Not having much of a taste for authority, however, I separated, not unlike an egg.  With very little dough I made my way to California.  It was in the warmth of the Sun that I grew and became well seasoned.  That, of course, was many years ago, for these rememberings are upon my mental 3 X 5 card, while I, in person, am far from the fire and continue to age quietly on the veranda.

 

A splash of wine, a slice of wonderful cheese upon fresh, warm baked bread - I and the Sun set.

 

No recipe for success here.  I have simply come and gone and nothing more.

 

In the group photo of life, I am the elbow at the far margin, usually unnoticed, mostly undone and completely unscathed.

 

 

 

Computer issues

 Back when resolved.

I Can't do This

 

Like being shunned by the group

I have the computer

with emails to send

but somehow I’m not in the loop

 

This Microsoft deal is a few pixels short

I click on my keyboard

It ain’t user friendly

The thing makes me just want to snort

 

How’s one supposed to know

backslash or forward

I’m a keystroke away

use BCC so nuthin don’t show

 

I’ve forgotten what I had to say

 

So which is it?

 

1.   Professor: Neuro-linguistic programing

Yale 

2.  Random House Publisher

3.  Male Nurse;  Johns Hopkins 

4.  Set Designer;  Old Globe Theatre

San Diego, CA

The Game

 

That’s when the only pirate at the table leaned forward and said, “I have a pair of hens, so I’ll take three.”

 

Well, of course nobody knew what hens were. Did he mean queens? The dealer dealt him three more cards and the pirate sat back in his chair, slowly peaking at his new cards.

 

Todd Wilson, who sold lamps, sofas and occasional tables over at the Sears outlet during the week, had been holding Jacks and sevens.  He knew full well that two pair of anything beat one pair of hens, whatever those were, but it was the way the pirate had leaned forward, looking everyone in the eye, almost daring them to challenge him, that had set Todd on edge.  Was the pirate bluffing?

 

Lois, who had been paying more attention to the refreshments she had set out, glanced at her cards and then tossed them onto the discard pile.  “Is anyone ready for a snack?” she asked.

 

Bill Reynolds, had laid his hand face down in front of him and said, “I’ll play these.”  He then looked over at Todd and asked, “So just what is an occasional table, Todd?”

 

Meanwhile, Mr. Rogers, of TV fame, seemed to have a tell.  Whenever he had a good hand, he would hum.  It’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood…  a wonderful day for a neighbor.  Then he looked over at Lois and thanked her for making such good-looking refreshments.  “It is so wonderful of you to make those delightful looking sandwiches and cookies.”

 

The pirate grunted and tossed six dollars into the pot.  That was a tad steep for Todd, but he again looked at his two pair and called, lying a five and a one on the pile.

                                          to be continued