ㅁ When the greeny depths Plot their inhuman dramas The fish play their roles
– a pseudo-haiku.
Month: August 2020
Caveat: Tree #566
This tree, somewhat blurry because it was rather distant, is leaning out just east of Tranquil Point, trying to catch some rays and block the view.
[daily log: walking, 1km; boating, 25km]
Caveat: Fishing Report #(n+10)
We started much later than usual, because we hadn’t planned on going. The weather report last night said it would windy and rainy. When I got up and looked out at 6, it was sunny and calm. So I re-checked the weather, and the forecasters had changed their minds. When Arthur got up at his normal time – around 830 – I suggested today might be a good day for fishing, after all.
So we left by around 930.
We went first to San Juan Island, where we’d had luck last Friday.
Today, we had no luck there. Zero nibbles.
But it was nice and calm. We motored south to near Tranquil Point, on the Prince of Wales mainland there. We had noted some other boats trolling along the coast, and thought maybe they knew something we didn’t.
I guess maybe they did. We put our hooks in just west of Tranquil, and within a minute, we had a bite. And so we circled around there, about 5 orbits in total, and landed 9 coho.
Arthur was pleased. Until we got home, and he had to butcher and clean and package all his fish. Then he was grumpy. I refuse to help in this process, because whenever I try to do something related to fish butchery or preservation, he hovers at my shoulder and tells me I’m doing everything wrong.
But I went down and cleaned the boat, and then I harvested some lettuce from the greenhouse, and then I found a few blueberries to pluck.
Year-to-date totals:
- Coho: 21
- Halibut: 1
- Lingcod: 1
Here are nine bloody fishies in the holding tank in the back of the boat.
Caveat: Poem #1466 “Never changing”
ㅁ When I dream of death there are still the trees and stones, a rain-damp backdrop.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #565
This tree is foregrounded by some deer.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]
Caveat: В полутьме брожу
что слушаю сейчас.
ГРАЙ, “В объятиях Мары”
Текст.
Белая зима, ой, пришла да не спросила,
Лютая пришла, серебром снегов укрыла.
Превратила в лёд мою душу и сердечко,
Замерзшими слезами покрыла речку.
Белая зима принесла недобры думы.
Солнце спряталось, да на небе полнолунье.
В полутьме брожу, слышу, смерть крадется тихо.
Снежная метель все свистит да кружит лихо.
Лютая зима холод в сердце поселила.
Хладная пришла, ой, пришла да не спросила.
Принесла печаль, забрала все мои силы
Белая зима.
Ели снежные на ветру качаются,
Да лютая зима в сердце не кончается.
Да вьюгою в окно постучалася нежданно
Лютая зима.
Ой, не спится мне, душу полонила вьюга.
Увела зима за собой милого друга.
Погубили душу зимы недобры чары,
Лютая зима забрала в объятия Мары.
Кто ж так на последних строках годно груванул? Ооочень бы хотелось побольше.
Caveat: Poem #1465 “But how can you tell?”
ㅁ When the story ends then the next story begins if you're keeping count.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #564
This tree is a guest tree from the past. It’s a Dawn Redwood (metasequoia), along my walk-to-work route in Ilsan, Korea, taken in November, 2017. The trees look and feel like the redwoods I grew up with in far northern California (sequoia sempervirens), but unlike those, these Asian redwoods turn color and lose their leaves (needles) in the Fall. Also, they don’t grow quite so tall. I’ve been “homesick” for Korea a lot, lately.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: un cañón pequeño y fuerte
Un lápiz Por diez centavos lo compré en la esquina y vendiómelo un ángel desgarbado; cuando a sacarle punta lo ponía lo vi como un cañón pequeño y fuerte. Saltó la mina que estallaba ideas y otra vez despuntólo el ángel triste. Salí con él y un rostro de alto bronce lo arrió de mi memoria. Distraída lo eché en el bolso entre pañuelos, cartas, resecas flores, tubos colorantes, billetes, papeletas y turrones. Iba hacia no sé dónde y con violencia me alzó cualquier vehículo, y golpeando iba mi bolso con su bomba adentro. - Alfonsina Storni (poeta argentina, 1892-1938)
Caveat: Poem #1464 “How the rain comes”
ㅁ When the rain comes, it comes with desultory tappings with dedication.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #563
This is a small alder. A smallder!
[daily log: walking, 1km; treehouse-laddering, 1hr]
Caveat: what to have at the picnic…
There is a joke about the importance of punctuation in English. It contrasts different meanings that the same words can have with only changes to punctuation:
Let’s eat, Grandma!
Let’s eat Grandma!
Well, Korean has a similar issue, but at the level of spacing between words, which normally is a bit of a gray area in Korean orthography – I have the impression there is a lot of variability in how individuals choose to space things like the case clitic particles – do they attach to their respective nouns or float freely?
But sometimes, spacing can change meanings. Hence this joke in Korean:
아기 다리 고기 다리 던소풍!
agi dari gogi dari deonsopung!
Baby legs, meat legs, dawn picnic!
아 기다리고 기다리던 소풍!
a gidarigo gidarideon sopung!
Ah, I’ve been waiting and waiting for a picnic!
The syllables are all the same. But depending on where you put the spaces between the words, you might or might not eat the baby.
What I’m listening to right now.
우원재, “CASH.”
가사.
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
돈 땜에 살어 돈 땜에 죽어
돈 땜에 울어 돈 땜에 헤매
돈 땜에 무려 돈 때론 무력
돈 빼면 무력 돈 땜에 숙여
돈, 돈, 돈, 돈 땜에 두려워
돈이면 돼요 돈 이게 사기템
돈이면 계속 멋지게 살어 damn
돈은 공평한데 때론 차별해 어때
돈을 자비롭지 근데 잔인해 어때
때 때 난 겁이나 법이나 정이나 없대 돈 앞에는
But u stop that 탓 돌리기는 돈 잘못 없대
난 익히 들어 이미 자본에 백기 들어서
여기 털어 먼지 안 나는 사람 없다라고 들었어
나는 get cash
당연히 때 탔지
Oh my god, gash
난 가끔 놀라 많이
나는 get flash
돈은 나빠 마치
우린 돈을 많이 닮아가는 거지
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
Please you be patient
오우 야, 난 참지 못해 그지
멍청한 걸 어쩌라고
Make more money make more cash ya
오우 야, 난 참지 못해 그지
돈이 최고 새꺄 돈 앞에서 부족하지 돈이 나는
오우 야, 난 참지 못해 그지
공평한 게 없다면 난 가져갈게 나의 무길 다시
오우 야, 난 막지 못해 그지
이게 나의 탓이라면 돈에 탓을 물게 대신 다시
Oh I’m bitch
돈의 노예 나는
나는 겉만 번질
속이 썩어 가지 나는
오 아버지
도와줘요 나를 제발
Go set bungy
돈 번 뒤의 모습에
난 죄책감에 절어
Hey cash, where are you from? I don’t know
Hol’up
거짓말이 돈이 되길 빌어 cause we gonna earn
So I love errbody I love it
But bitch I hate myself
Cash, my work and my benz
Now I’m guilty I’m dead
Cash makes you and my pain
But I love it. I’m dead
Cash, my love and my fams
So I love u my dad
Cash loves you and my back
But bitch I hate myself
But bitch I hate myself
Caveat: Poem #1463 “The race is won”
ㅁ When spotted slugs zoom like soft, black-speckled cheetahs then you know time's stopped.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #562
I attached a sail to my treehouse. Which, you will notice, is attached to a tree. So I can use this picture for my daily tree, though admittedly this same tree has featured before – but with less attached to it.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1462 “The use of shadows”
ㅁ When the sun is high It still casts dream-filled shadows At these latitudes
– a pseudo-haiku.