Tag Archives: a personal note

Our Post-Thanksgiving Day

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The dramatis personae of Godzilla vs. Megalon take  a curtain call. Left to Right, Jet Jaguar, Godzilla, Gigan, and Megalon. Absent: Dame Judith Anderson.

This is the day Patty and I have our turkey, relax, and watch Godzilla vs. Megalon. This treasure of cinematic art is completely devoid of serious thought, ideal for flushing the brain. The brain is like an outboard motor; it needs to be flushed from time to time.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Someone stole my outboard motor, once.

There is a good reason why this film has been called “The Gone With the Wind of movies featuring rubber monster suits,” but I can’t remember what that reason is.

We’re Back [Sigh of Relief]

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Just checking in to let you know we’re back, safe and sound. Although at first the car wouldn’t start today. Then it did. Then we wondered what we’d do if it wouldn’t start when it was time for us to go home. My brother is pretty good with cars. But happily my car started just fine.

The Garden State Parkway was on its best behavior today. The only problem we had was, someone kept moving the sun so it was always right in our eyes. This can be disconcerting at high speeds. If we’d left half an hour earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But we were having such a nice time at Alice’s, and everybody was so happy–so, yeah, we were half an hour late.

Thank you for your prayers. This trip can be pretty scary sometimes, but this time wasn’t one of them.

Getting There Without Getting Killed

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We almost had a collision, just now, going to pick up our laundry. Some clown ran the red light just as we were making our turn onto Amboy Avenue, and it was a mighty close shave. Patty was driving. Her hands are still shaking.

Our town today is swamped with traffic, people leaning on their horns and getting more and more steamed with every passing minute. I was going to gas up for our trip tomorrow, but all the excitement drove it right out of my head and I didn’t remember it until we got home. I hope the neighborhood gas station is open tomorrow morning.

Please pray for us to get there and back in one piece.

Note: I have chosen not to write about any of the college nincompoops denouncing Thanksgiving and saying we all ought to be mourning the creation of that racist hellhole, the United States of America. They are ungrateful. Being born here, and living here, is a blessing. No two ways about it. Thank God for His blessings on our country, and praise Him for every good thing.

How Big Things Grow Small, Etc.

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Have you noticed? As you get older, a lot of big things get small, and small things get big.

Years, for instance. The more years you live, the smaller they get. When I was nine or ten years old, a year was an eternity. But this year, 2019, whizzed by so fast, I almost missed it.

Mr. Bruno, across the street, went spear-fishing once and brought home two enormous striped bass. They looked enormous to me! But now I realize they couldn’t have been that big, because they both fit in the kitchen sink.

It seemed a small thing, an everyday thing, to me that my father was able to keep everything around our home in good repair. Like, he just did it, no big deal. But now that I’m older than he was at the time, I can’t imagine how he did it! How did he ever manage to do all that work around the house, and still do everything else he did?

We had a lot of family Christmas get-togethers in Grandpa’s living room. When I was a boy, it seemed a very big room. Now I can’t believe we ever fit so many people into it.

The street we lived on: I was there the other day, and it seemed way too short for all those houses. I am sure it used to be much longer. That’s how I remember it.

Shoveling snow off the sidewalk: that was a little job, wasn’t it? But it isn’t anymore. Now it’s a big job.

What would it be like, if things stayed the same size for as long as we knew them?

I’ve heard there’s a place in Lintum Forest like that, but I haven’t found it yet.

No More Nooze Today

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Sorry, but I’ve had it up to here with the nooze and I’d just as soon take a break from it this weekend. Give me an axolotl instead.

I mean, really! I’ve just spent time on a couple of different nooze sites and it’s all the same: impeachment, let’s abort all babies with Down’s Syndrome, let’s abort all “binary pronouns,” and let’s have a national food fight over “reparations”–punishing people for something that other people did 200 years ago.  And on and on. What a dreary landscape!

I can’t get any axolotls, so this afternoon we’re going to pet our cats and watch what’s supposed to be a good BBC remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s black-and-white classic, The Lady Vanishes. Maybe Elizabeth Warren will vanish.

And I’m re-reading Bell Mountain.   Image result for images of bell mountain by lee duigon If you haven’t read it yet–well, what are you waiting for? I’ve also got a book of mermaid stories, which I think I’ll tackle next. Mermaids beat the nooze any day. Almost as good as axolotls!

‘And Suddenly It Hits Me’ (2015)

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When I wrote The Throne (No. 9 in the Bell Mountain series) the whole ending of the story flashed into my head in the time it took to climb two steps.


How to feel like Rocky Graziano…

You wouldn’t think there’d be a lot of excitement in writing a novel. Like, you’re just sitting there, writing. But that’s only on the outside. On the inside, you’re living the story. Seeing, hearing, feeling, being.

It’s the only way to make it come alive for your readers.

She’s Done It Again!


The guys came here this morning to deliver an oxygen concentrator for Patty to use in her sleep; and as usual, our two cats made themselves scarce.

And Peep stayed scarce!

I’m sure I looked everywhere, and more than once, too. No Peep. Hours later, there she was, sitting on the stairs, washing herself.

How does she do it? Does she actually hide? If so, I should have found her. Has she mastered the art of invisibility? Does she dissolve herself into mist and seep through cracks in the floor? Really, I’m mystified. And of course Robbie declines to rat her out. Cats never tattle on each other.

I’ve got to learn how she does this. It might come in handy someday.

‘A Truly Ridiculous Computer Problem’ (2014)

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As if getting struck by lightning weren’t bad enough, once upon a time my computer had a time-travel scare.


The thing about Artificial Intelligence is, it’s not intelligence at all; it’s just a mindless simulation of intelligence. So unless the human programmer equips the machine with the knowledge that there’s no such thing as time-travel–you’d have to do it that way, because you can’t equip it with common sense–it will react to the appearance of time-travel as if it were real.

Which is just what this computer did, five years ago.

Looking Forward to Supper

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I can’t seem to wrap my brain around anything today. I turn to nooze sites and there’s nothing but more sham “impeachment” stories; and if I don’t want to write about those, there’s the endless parade of inanities trotted out as “education.” I’m tired of writing about that, too.

Patty is going to make us pork soup for supper, with noodles, onion, carrots, and celery. I find that rather more appealing than the nooze.

Food is a gift from God, to be received and enjoyed with thankfulness. He really does provide for us, you know: we wouldn’t last a day without Him.

I pray I’ll be more up to snuff tomorrow. A good supper is surely a step in the right direction.

A Lesson from the Laundry

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The high spot of our day so far is a visit to the laundromat.

Yesterday I brought in one of Patty’s coats to be cleaned, and we picked it up this morning. The cheerful little woman who runs the place held up the coat with a big smile and said, “Look how nice it came out!” It looked like it had just come off the rack. “My wife is going to be very pleased when she sees it,” I said. “Yes, please make sure you show it to her,” she answered.

It’s always a pleasure to deal with someone who takes pride in her work and wants to do a good job for her customers. And it should be appreciated. Any one of us can make the world a better place just by showing our appreciation to all the different people who serve us in so many different ways. We’ve become very fond of our supermarket checkout clerks, the folks at our local Chinese restaurant, and the local merchants with whom we regularly do business–and now our laundress, too. These people deserve to be appreciated. And we’d be hard put to do without them.

Loving your neighbor doesn’t have to be a Broadway production number. And we all have it in our power to do it–in those little ways that have a way of adding up into something very good.

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