There's a chasm between self-defense and self-defenestration, or so I've become aware. Today I board a plane to go to Disney World for a family gathering and I fear I will die. Everyone I talk to tells me I'll love it, I'll have a great time, but I don't like flying, and I'm sanctimonious about and scared of Disney. We'll be there for Samhain (halloween) where I hear the veil that separates the world of the living and dead is at its thinnest. It will be interesting to tranvserse that periond in the land where the line between enough and too much has no existence. I'm taking Bachelard with me.
Thanks for the word sometime Brooklynometry word verification term chorus Kenmeer.
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6 comments:
To fear you will die flying is to fear an exquisitely thrilling death. But flying is still far safer than a drive to Aunt Mimi's house, and if you can find a way to enjoy the vertigo, the window views provide everything the 20th century had promised to be.
Disney, on the other hand, is to be feared. The Rodent is evil.
But evil, too, can be fun, and since this is a necessary evil, I say enjoy the mania.
furph: a species of rogue animatronic manimal in which the cutesie factor has gone critical. They'll love you to death... or else.
I have just busted the stitches of my gut. You are in astonishing form today Kenmeer.
If you're lucky, they'll have done the Haunted Mansion up with Nightmare Before Christmas theming. Have a great time!
Darkness makes the best humor. I wrote that after discerning that today was the day our big old black dog, Maya (from Sanskrit for 'dancing mud'), was taking the big sleep.
She passed over 10:45AM PST, 10-28-09.
Just finished burying her in the backyard.
She felt very much like a Spielberg/Henson robopuppet as we schlepped her into the ground where tomatoes grew a month ago.
Have to settle for flowers over that spot for a season as her mud dances the e. coli away...
audmar: speechlessness upon another's extremely audacious utterance. (audmaration, audmare)
I'm so sorry about Maya.
Oh, she had an awesome ten years. If there is a heavenly reincarnation, one of its better modes is to return as one of our (WAY-y-y too many) dogs. I'd nursed her back from crossing over a month ago, helping her hang on until we could get her to a vet. She enjoyed a few good weeks courtesy pain meds and steroids.
Sad as I am to see her go, I am glad to be reduced from 5 to 4 dogs (and 1 cat, 1 snake, and 1 frog).
Not my choices, unnastan. Daughter, wife, and son seem to think that any puppy must be theirs. besides, Daddy (known as The Dog Whisperer) will take care of them! I adore canine friends but two in the house is enough, especially now that I no longer have a trusty red beat-uptruck to take them out into the woods several times a week, which makes them much quieter at home.
ressi: pasta leftovers
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