It was the breast of times, it was the wurst of times

It was a hot August day, the naked people were in the pool, some floating face up, some face down. We ignored the face-down floaters, why spoil an otherwise idyllic day. The shadows were getting shorter, because it was still before noon...after noon, the shadows lengthen, the days shorten.

I looked in the skimmer basket to see what had happened during the night. Have you ever emptied the bucket from your vacuum cleaner and looked closely at what makes up household dirt? Our container is dog hair, cat hair, bits of carrot peel, fingernail clippings, beads, bead wire, bead needles, bead glass, bead magazines, bead earrings, an occasional Oreo cookie, never anything of mine, a sock or two-never a matched pair.

Sorry, back to the skimmer basket. Drowned insects, bees, flies, dragon flies, damsel flies, dog hair, cat hair, bits of carrot peel, fingernail clippings, beads, bead wire, bead needles, bead glass, bead magazines, bead earrings, an occasional Oreo cookie, never anything of mine. Leaves, bits of the face down floaters, and other flotsam.

Last night we went to hear Curtis Ebbesmeyer talk about his his book "Flotsametrics in a Floating World."

http://flotsametrics.com/reviews.php

That is what got me thinking about our little gyre in the pool, in the house, on our street. I wonder if I am part of the problem?

"`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

Initial blog post, The Launch

It was a Stark and Burnside night, when mi esposa showed me a book in the library whose thesis pondered if a couple should stay together on account of the dog. She wondered, given this thesis,

"Do you have a book inside you?"

I pointed out that we were in a library, and it is still ok to check out the books for free..I didn't have to steal them.

This conversation coupled with our family motto of "Never, Ever let the truth get in the way of a good story" led to this posting.

This story will be a living testimony to my fabricated life, and will be affirmed mostly by deceased relatives who can vouch for the absolute authenticity of my every word. Stay tuned, this is a rudimentary stage, an early period..a beginning, a start...It was a Start and dorm room night. Hmmmm, Start was a high school somewhere in my memory.