|Buzz buzz buzz|
Pretty little sunflower - actually not that little, this was a big one the size of Dr. J's head - growing in Kaslo a few years back. Oh goodness, the simplicity of Kaslo - at least it seems simple, but I'm quite sure it's not. Much like Peyton Place, or the village in which Miss Marple lives, Buzzard upon Leighton or some such place, it's probably seething and simply heaving with any manner of human drama and cesspit vices. Miss Marple has always said, and I quite agree, that human nature is the same everywhere, but in a small village, you have better opportunities to observe it. Not sure why sunflowers bring to mind human nature, but there it is.
|Porter looks askance, but never casts aspersions|
|Running up that hill like there's no tomorrow|
|Best to let sleeping dogs lie even when surrounded by rabid squirrels|
Goodness, I'm tired today. Physically and mentally, and yet social mores take over when I meet relative strangers. You smile, you make small talk, and at the same time, a little bit of you dies inside - okay, maybe not that dramatic, but you do taste a little bit of vomit coming up your throat - okay, maybe not vomit, but sour milk - which really amounts to the same thing. I think I've done all that I can for today. There were a number of small little tasks - the sum of which hopefully is a huge endeavour - that had to be completed today. I ticked most of them off despite being sleepy most of the day. Now, I'm even sleepier, and my hips are complaining ever more vociferously. So I think I shall go to bed, but only after I've taken a lovely orange pill what kills the pain for a while and maybe then I'll sleep well and dream about my favourite hedgehog standing up on a tree stump making small talk. This would be much better than having half-dreams which hint at inner glimpses of one hidden self, which by their very nature demand to be analysed. I don't have the time, energy, nor the desire to analyse at the moment. I'd much rather hark back to the days when I gave JR rides back to his student hovel where 8 people lived in a 3-bedroom house, and we had semi-philosophical discussions about whether there was any difference in outlooks when you adapted readily to your circumstances, or you accepted the circumstances. Adapting or accepting - which is better, or do they amount to the same thing in the end? Fate - such a funny thing - so immutable, yet so varied.