Author: Shelley Powers

Categories
Just Shelley

Shallows

In the shallows, in soft, soft sand, you can stand very still and 
the little fishies will nibble at your toes.

In the shallows, in soft, soft sand, you can look down through clear, 
clear water and be master of all you see.

In the shallows, in soft, soft sand, you can laugh at tiny ripples of 
water lapping ineffectually at your ankles.

In the shallows, in soft, soft sand, you are God.

Until a big goddamn wave comes along and sucks you in, and you’re pushed here and there at the mercy of energies beyond your control with Big Fishies wanting to do more than nibble at your toes in water that’s murky and dark, and you think to yourself, “Holy shit! What just happened!?!”, as your only hope is to ride along, follow the current and stay afloat, looking for an escape…

...back to the shallows, and the soft, soft sand.
Categories
Critters

Always time for the important things in life

I was hard at work on my newly upgraded server earlier today, installing libraries, creating databases, moving code. It was so nice to have all that room and I wasn’t paying too much attention to my surroundings.

Well, my little girl, Zoe, was having none of this. First she dragged her feather in, plopping it down on my feet. When I didn’t pay attention, she started clawing at my tennis shoe, batting at the lace. When that failed, she jumped up on my lap. I assumed that she was going to curl up and sleep. Instead, she laid down next to my arm, wrapped all her feet tightly around it, and placed her head across it – snuggling as close as she could get, eyes closed in pleasure.

It’s hard to work with a 9 pound cat wrapped around your arm. I tried to move her and she demonstrated her displeasure at my behavior by biting me. Not hard, but with enough pressure to get her point across.

What could I do? I turned on the music and cuddled her close, looking out the window at the birds as she slept in my arms, head nestled into the crook of my elbow.

Don’t you wish, when faced with friends and family who are “too busy”, that we could crawl up on their laps, wrap our bodies around them, and bite them when they don’t get the hint?

I think we lost too much when we got an opposable thumb and started learning how to communicate complex thoughts.

Categories
Weblogging

Get better

Per Jeneane and Ann came news that Marek was ill from unknown causes, in pain, and in the hospital. Bad news.

Tonight, we hear from David that Marek has an intestinal infection and is going home on Sunday – much better news.

Marek, this is what happens when you quit smoking – your body starts becoming a much more attractive habitat for nasties.

Categories
Weblogging Writing

The world’s smallest postings

Steve Himmer (or should that be Opt Himmer? 5 Himmer?) subtly started something yesterday* that was intriguing to say the least:

Is brevity really the soul of wit? Or, more precisely, am I capable of saying anything without rattling and rambling for 1000 words at a time?

Included with this paragraph is a link to a new weblog, OneWordMeal, containing one word attached to a link to another weblog:

gumshoe

Gumshoe? Gumshoe.

According to dictionary.com gumshoe is defined as:

gum·shoe (gmsh)
n.
A sneaker or rubber overshoe.
Slang. An investigator, especially a detective.

Was Steve’s use of “gumshoe” in reference to the other weblog author’s travels through Argentina (travels – walking – shoe – sneaker – gumshoe)? Or was it in reference to the term “closed room” mentioned in several of the postings (closed room – mystery – detective – gumshoe)?

Possibly it was a subtle connection to the weblog author’s literary discussions threaded throughout the weblog (literature – book – type of book – detective book – detective – gumshoe).

By linking to the weblog with the one word, Steve is pushing the limits of our ability to fill in the gaps and make the necessary connections, all within a context that lacks both shared experiences and environment.

For instance, I can point to something and say one word, and my roommate will easily deduce what I’m saying, fill in all of the verbs and adjectives and nouns, develop the appropriate mental image and link all of this back to the one word. But then, my roommate and I have both a shared history as well as home: all the ‘clues’ are in place.

Can Steve do the same in weblogging? I’m not sure, but the concept is fascinating, to say the least (pun not intended). I eagerly await the next entry in OneWordMeal.

*or Steve was in a mood of wimsey yesterday and the weblog and the posting was all a joke, using gumshoe because he stepped in some gum and got it on his shoe, but then I called the idea both intriguing and fascinating and now he has to follow through, which will teach him not to fool with Mother Blogger.

Categories
Photography Places

Sound of surf

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

The weather is cloudy and cooler and the dewpoint has dropped so I can finally get out for a walk.

St. Louis is a lovely city situated amidst giant rivers and verdant hills containing numerous trails and paths and caverns and wonderous places to explore. As I become acclimated, I’ll be able to spend more and more time on something I love: walking. And if the environment is as kind as the inhabitants, I know that I’ll grow to love this place.

But I miss my beach. I miss the surf, the smell, the ocean breeze in my face. And I miss my pelicans. I desperately miss my pelicans.

GG Bridge from Crissy Beach