To a poet, silence is an acceptable response, even a flattering one. -Colette, author (28 Jan 1873-1954)

Intermittently I fancy myself a poet, of sorts. Most of my "creations" have been crafted using the Haiku form for structure and forced brevity! But clearly I am neither a confident blogger nor an actual poet. I vividly recall a bit in the hilarious book: "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" about an alien forcing his poetry on anyone available which is universally received as torture. I can take silence (though praise is preferred) but I fear discovering that my products are TORTURE.

I put some of my very amateurish Haiku in my earliest blogs. Be kind to yourself and do not seek them out. I am listening to a book by Laurie King which is in the series about Mary Russell and her husband Sherlock Holmes based on her discovered diaries. (You do know that sentence is mostly fictitious, right?) In the current one she is being introduced to a master Japanese Haiku poet. She is read it in Japanese (which she does not speak) and then in English translation. These do not meter as a three line 5/7/5 syllable poem. Wikipedia has an interesting article on this art form.

This ends the disclaimer portion of this blog.

Here is one inspired by a freeway drive by:

One of my poetry critics.

A frozen pileup 

Glides quietly by my lane

Oh, cars to junk yard!

One about my choice of pet:

I would have a dog

But for handful of warm poop

On forced daily walks.  

And why that is a cat:

Choose your friends wisely

Based on shared delights and needs

Cats want oft-prone maid

 

 

the Holidays cramped my muse

And as my trainer can attest: NOBODY cramps as frequently, aggressively, inappropriately and dangerously to nearby living beings as moi. But the definitive passing of MLK day heralded a capacious horizon of no Federally and/or Oregonlly recognized holidays demanding increased social interactions, shopping and large meal ingestion.

There are a few things I need to share with the world (soon to be known as the Metaverse*). I have recently become informed on the possible meaning and hazy outline of this coming "reality" via my favorite low effort news source: a podcast. And now is the time to share as widely as I am willing to - in other words likely only those who have not YET requested removal from "My little blog" email alerts. So rest assured that when you visit the M-V* you do not risk encountering passionate Luddites such as myself. And if this is the sole "up side" to being dead, at least there will be sweet release from the accelerating degradation of life as I knew it.

But back to me. I turned 70 in December which is a reasonably decent achievement. Of course I have lost some "ground" through the aging process which is how one reaches every birthday. But I am not (yet) one to give an organ recital. Today I only wish to celebrate in blog form the fact that my girls are not yet visibly (I was going to write: falling down on the job, but of course they are) diseased! Also at my annual Medicare covered WELLNESS visit (where a pulse, some blood pressure, any temp above 80℉, and proof of continued coverage is performed) which keeps the SS checks coming. Here I also learned that I am at LOW RISK of osteoporosis. I find that surprising as I was said to be on the cusp for decades. Apparently it is a calculation based on several factors. I guess the fact that none of my prior broken bones (feet and hands) are of great concern, nor it my predilection to "kissing the earth". I did a quick check on line and could find no cause and effect connection between having an excellent sense of humor and protection against osteoporosis.

So! Doing great by Medicare standards. (Note to self: do not share this blog with physicians or Medicare lest they begin to examine my wellness more globally.)