Thursday, October 23, 2014
Friday, October 17, 2014
My broom has no home. When I want to use it I take if from wherever it is standing, usually in the way, and after using it I leave it somewhere, usually in the way. The somebody knocks it over.
Does anyone else have broom problems? I never notice other people's brooms standing around waiting for someone to knock them over. Other people have control of their brooms.
I have lost my last house key. I never use them, because I come and go through the garage, but I think one should have a house key. So I have to start thinking about a locksmith.
I let my husband's subscription to a magazine come to a close. Then I ordered a new subscription for myself. Now I either have two subscriptions or none. This requires action, but the thought of straightening it out makes me want to take a nap.
These are first world problems, right? St Teresa said, in a quote that's too good to check, that life was a night spent in an uncomfortable inn. Try to imagine a 16th century Spanish inn, where you had to share your bed with other travelers, some of whom probably smelled bad. Now call a locksmith.
Posted by miriam sawyer at 3:20 PM
Monday, October 13, 2014
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
My father and my brother the genius were so alike it scared me. The first word ever applied to either one is "brilliant." Both of them spent enormous amounts of effort on some cause. My father spent four years trying to invent a sewing machine which would sew the toe of pantyhose invisibly. He turned my brother's bedroom into a machine shop, surprising my brother when he came home from college and had to sleep on a sofabed in the living room. Dad had scores of patents on this machine, which proved difficult to design. He became the world expert on pantyhose and was about to cash in worldwide when all the women of all nations simultaneously decided they hated wearing pantyhose, discarded them, and started wearing trousers or going barelegged.. Even Anna Wintour. And when you've lost Anna Wintour you've lost everyone who counts.
My brother the genius has a scheme for extracting energy from seawater. Don't ask. If he were rich he would devote all his time and resources to the project. He also has lots of patents. Needless to say, after the spectacular failure of wind and solar power nobody wants to listen.
When my mother was alive, he was convinced that all the natural gas in the world was going to be used up imminently, maybe within a year or two. He actually ordered an oil burning furnace for her house. When the installer came, the cleaning lady warned mother in time and was met with armed resistance and was forcefully ejected. Thank heaven she caught him before the backhoe was applied to her rose garden.
It didn't take much acumen to consider him mistaken. Just because someone is brilliant doesn't necessarily make him right.I felt in my gut that sooner or later, there would be an oil glut and I was right.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Sunday, September 21, 2014
I strongly feel that any statement whatever is displayed on a bumper sticker or a t-shirt is rendered meaningless and banal by its context. The medium is the message.
Think of the bumper stickers of the past. My absolute favorite is "War is harmful to children and other living things," followed closely by "War is not the answer." It depends on what the question is. If the questions is, what is a three letter word for an armed conflict, war definitely IS the answer.
Also: "No war for oil." And "Obama," "Change," and "Hope.'
I just returned from Columbus, OH. This is where I grew up. I lived there for 16 years and couldn't wait to get out. I'm sure Columbus is very nice, and I'm not comparing it to a soviet prison camp or anything. I was adequately housed and fed and taken to the dentist and saw movies there. I just wanted to go elsewhere.
So I went to visit the few relatives I have there who are still speaking to me. Not that those who are not speaking to me are mad at me. They are just indifferent to my existence, and vice versa. No hard feelings on either side. We can live without each other. And do.
Looking for something to while away the hours when I wasn't visiting one cousin or another, I went to the stand in my motel which housed pamphlets about interesting sites to visit. Mostly they were ads for outlet shopping centers. A couple were for extremely boring historic sites, none of which were conveniently located.
I strongly felt the lack of all my aunts and uncles, my mother and grandmother. I visited them in the cemetery, but couldn't get much out of them. Communication was lacking.
Posted by miriam sawyer at 11:20 AM