Archives for March 2019

Some small towns serve apple pie.

It is not certain if you are eating apple pie that you are in a small town.

Some of us, we’ll remain nameless, had to eat humble pie the other day, it was delicious but we were in the center of a major city.

We have decided to lead you, and anyone you can see or hear, to a greater victory than ever imagined. The lights will all turn green as you approach.

The difficulty is that we have to decide on a battle to win, if we don’t it’ll be all humble and no pie.

Nothing but red dust and rocks until we went over the small crest and there in front of us was the legendary ruined track.

Painful thorn-covered bushes, color-streaked rocks and visible geological strata, small dry-looking trees strung out miles into the distance with an occasional rolling hill always studded with rocky lookout points.

A little later we saw suddenly next to us, as if a canyon revealed only at the last moment, the pool. A natural oasis of blue-green pure water, a social center for mountain lions.

The long way home.

Tuck in the sheets, especially at the corners.

The rest will take care of itself.

Served with honey, treacle and maple syrup, life was, how do you say – sweet.

A lemon was a car that never worked from new.

Yet it was all that was needed to moderate the sweetness.

The embarrassed bankers.

They are uncomfortable and wriggle in their seats when there is a credit balance on a credit card.

This is the billboard for the new absurdity.

But let us laugh, sip from a cup with a good friend, for the only honesty left now is with those close and long-trusted.

Perhaps nothing has change and this was always true but we never realized it. I’m satified there are better things, almost everywhere!

They are clearing the streets.

Signs are posted announcing a temporary ban on parking.

An event is on the way. People are on their way.

It will get crowded, excitement charging the air, then it will be back to the usual pattern. Every day people will park, then return to their cars and drive away.

Perhaps the event is the “usual pattern” and when the signs come down there is a pause between one batch of the usual and the next. Perplexing.