Day 185

Two Men Enter . . . Only One Man Leaves. For those of you that truly know my wife and I, you should be well aware of our general distaste for the process of sorting and then folding socks.  I believe that is our aversion to this process stems from our deep need to avoid witnessing tragedy.  It is an occurrence that is as mysterious as the Great Pyramids of ancient Egypt.  It plays out all over the world in a gladiatoresque fashion.  Two men enter, but only one man leaves.  It is a riddle that has left me scratching my...

Day 183 and 184

Message Sent and Received Well, I must apologize for the lack of musical selection, my scavenged internet connection is a bit too slow to upload video . . . maybe  next time, right?  At this rate, it seems as though our internet installation is going to be a surprise attack.  Let’s not dwell on the negative.  The last few days have been proud days in my life.  Though still hopelessly addicted to nicotine, I have kicked my caffeine habit for good.  One vice down, one to go.  I hope to be free of that by new year. ...

Day 181 and 182

Lions and Vultures and Fathers Oh My! In my continuing quest to roll back the sands of time and beat the unbeatable force of age and gravity, I have realized that as a devoted Husband and Father of two I have strayed from the evolutionary force that drives all us primates.  Hunting and gathering our food is the way we sustain life.  These days I have found my station more likened to that of a Vulture than a Lion.  I can scarcely say I lead my pride and my meals are scavenged from the scraps left behind.  That has its positives...

Day 181 and 182

Lions and Vultures and Fathers Oh My! In my continuing quest to roll back the sands of time and beat the unbeatable force of age and gravity, I have realized that as a devoted Husband and Father of two I have strayed from the evolutionary force that drives all us primates.  Hunting and gathering our food is the way we sustain life.  These days I have found my station more likened to that of a Vulture than a Lion.  I can scarcely say I lead my pride and my meals are scavenged from the scraps left behind.  That has its positives...

Day 179 and 180

A depressing life of leisure. It reverberates through my soul like an old forgotten hymn.  It is the beating of my heart and the sweet lullaby that rocks me to sleep at night.  It is there every morning and at the close of every day.  It is the symphony of labor.  These days I watch it from afar.  An outsider . . . a foreigner.  A accepted member of society, but not quite a member of the clan.  The distant hum of a tractor, the chattering laughter from the fields.  Though I don’t know the words, I know the...

Day 177 and 178

The beach in my backyard and my life as a Calico Cat Living mere kilometers from the Atlantic Ocean is perhaps one of the novelties of living here that may never wear off.  Our life is VERY uncomplicated these days which makes for ample recreational opportunities.  That being said, there is one piece of fiber in our American beings that we can’t seem to rid ourselves of and has caused us a stumble or two along the way.  We (Americans) tend to be a spontaneous lot, and the concept of an impulse vacation is not at all unheard of. ...

Day 176

The life of The Gambler and knowing when to wait for a better hand. Writing and painting have taught me a lot about life.  Sometimes you have to know when to fold a losing hand and start again.  Kenney Rogers probably said it best before he became a roasted chicken mogul . . . “You gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.  After meeting with three early successes, my fourth artistic endeavor at a much grander scale fell flat on its face and forced me to paint the entire canvas...

Day 173 through 175

The Morning After Pill In keeping with the contraceptive theme I have going from my prior post . . .there is no better cure that I know of for a regrettable evening of driving and an uncomfortable stay in the “Good” Western than two days in the High Pyrenees.  Despite having a reasonable internet connection for most of the trip, I could not seem to find the kind of break from activity necessary to put my thoughts into coherent sentences.  We quickly traded the “Good” Western for a Holiday Gite at the foot of the Col De Tourmalet.  A...

Day 170 through 172

Square dancing through the French countryside and a cultural fall from grace. The sad truth is that I now rate the habitability of a hotel based solely on the availability of a free WiFi connection.  I am currently "plugged in" at a Good Western in Lourdes, France.  While perhaps not the "Best" Western, it will do.  We find ourselves on the eve of a long holiday weekend and having favored the coast over the past several, we decided it was time to revisit the Midi-Pyrenees.  We have visited this area on one prior occasion, but...

Day 169

Decapitation by the Wilkinson Sword The day was a lazy summer day with weather that could not have been scripted even in a storybook.  The sun was shining between scattered clouds with temperatures that I would guestimate to be in the upper 70s or low 80s.  With a cool breeze in your face, it was hard to not spend the entire day in the sun.  I was particularly thankful for the breeze as it took a bit of the sting out of my skin.  My day had not started with the greatest of ease.  Having spent the weekend in a leisurely...

Day 168

Kish me Goodnight.  Making SENSE of the world around us. The day began for me at a somewhat non-traditional clip.  Now believing in the omens that present themselves to us daily, I took note of the fact that once again I find myself a bit out of balance.  Running my hand across the braille label on our cereal box this morning caused me a moment of reflection.  I am a very visual creature.  In fact, most of my world revolves around my ability to see.  This brief moment of thought over a bowl of Frosted Flakes would...