Hi Carolyn,Okay, I’m back from days spent in the land that Wi-Fi forgot. I must admit, it really wakes you up to just how immersed even our generation is in the digital, social networking world, after you’ve spent a few days with older family who don’t have - and don't want - any kind of access whatsoever to the web, et al. Even ordinary conversations have to be altered as you go. "E-mail me the news article " ," Google it and you’ll see ", "Check the website " and other phrases we have fully internalised, might just as well be in Swahili for folks who have an abiding suspicion of an electric can opener, or a microwave. It was eerie sometimes.
Very much enjoyed your stuff about daydreaming, Carolyn.
Daydreaming is sort of my philosophers stone. I do sinful, hardcore amounts of it. It is so cool to be able to transport to a place instantaneously where such things can be contemplated with a patina of reality. ( I'm in row one, desk one in Daydreaming 101 - and I won’t give up my seat for anyone! )
As a very young boy I was occasionally beset by a grandmother who tried to pound into me that daydreaming was sacrilegious. She truly believed that " Idle minds are the devil's workshop " and spread the word to me with evangelical zeal. I was taken by this saying, it's true. I just didn't click into it the way my Grandma would have approved of.
It was daydream fodder of the first order!
What kind of tools, I wondered then, and still do now since I have a workshop of my own, would there be in The Devil's very own workshop . ??
Hmmmmm, let's consider this a bit.
First, gotta have safety equipment! There should be solid, steel-toed workboots for walking all over people and kicking them when they’re down. Also, goggles that allow you to see only what you want to see and to see red at the slightest provocation. There would be a healthy supply of brushes to paint people green with envy, red with anger and to paint hearts black, and certain journalists yellow. There would be no brushes available to paint the cloud's lining silver, though. There would be ample varieties of screwdrivers to screw things up, pliers to bend the truth and hammers to drive wedges between lifelong friends. There would be lots of vices, of course
I could meander on with this at great and tedious length, but I simply use it to show just how completely lovely I find the whole daydreaming thing.
I must leave off, though and get to other items. In my time away I got to initiate something I'd been meaning to do for awhile. The Harry Potter mania never got to me in that decade or so that it was unfolding. I did tell myself, though, that I should crack a volume open sometime and see just what all the fuss was about. So I did just that over the last little bit. The novel that started it all accompanied me on my travels and I had at it. I haven't finished it but I shall do so and report upon my findings, just like I did with The Hobbit.
Before I go, though, I gotta give a wizardly high five to Dumbledore for his words about music.
" Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. " A magic beyond all we do here."
Okay, the riddles are a callin'.
My say uncle riddle was a bass drum. I'm gonna guess that yours was either a point and shoot camera or a smart phone acting as a camera. I had one for this entry but it seems to have disappeared from my on the road files at the moment. In the interests of getting the blog out I will send it in next time.
Finally, Carolyn, thankyou for the reading material that you sent along at the week's start. I'm gonna get at it shortly. It looks like it could be pretty cool.
Don
All images sourced from Google Images.
Fig. 1 - hoosickhistory.com
Fig. 2 - commons.wikimedia.org
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