ㅁ Sunday's "don't do list": don't write a rant about roads that no one will read.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1883 “The rant that wasn’t”
This tree anticipated more photons, soon.
I was planning to write a long rant about road maintenance and technocracy… but I’m too tired and can’t be bothered. Imagine that a rant was written.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km; retailing, 4hr]
Caveat: Poem #2789 “A moment’s rest”
ㅁ The seagull sat, fat and round and white, as if a short break from eating might perhaps be justified; perched on the metal arch over the wood dock, watching the world, witnessing sun, sea, trees.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1882 “태극기”
This tree is under a giant Korean flag. I took this picture in January, 2009, walking home from work on a Saturday afternoon.
It’s good to not get too monotonous with the local tree-pics.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km;]
Caveat: Poem #2788 “Heavy machinery’s hubris”
ㅁ The road inspired negativity: those potholes cruelly covered by hubristic gravel loads, spread by excavators and dim road graders, up and down slopes... the buried potholes wait.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1881 “Pre-house”
This tree noted the lack of progress on the little house thingy (I call it the “pre-house”) on Lot 73. I’m not bothered by this – the neighbor who’s doing this project for me has had other jobs that are much higher priority, involving improvements to his own lot. The pre-house will wait.
The reason I call it the pre-house is because the future actual house will be attached to it – at which point, this structure becomes a kind of previously-existing small appendage to the future house.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km; retailing, 9hr]
Caveat: Poem #2787 “Things seen before dawn”
ㅁ The moon's disk peered down through the trees, lapping at their ragged branches, like an over-eager dog. A wind shifted the trees; the moonshadows danced and drew patterns on the wall. So I watched.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1880 “Sunshine”
This tree saw unseasonal morning sunshine on the first day of Spring. I still expect we’ll see a bit more snow at some point, but who knows – the weather here isn’t very predictable in that respect.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
Caveat: Poem #2786 “Dread”
ㅁ Hearing the birds begin their strange songs outside my lair's attic window, heralding an early spring, I'm filled only with dread. Spring is not my thing. The elderly awaken... impose tasks.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1879 “A departing sun”
This tree was briefly lit by a departing sun.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 9hr]
Caveat: Poem #2785 “Mythical origins”
ㅁ The world started flat, but through the epochs, it aged, becoming a sphere.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1878 “Fear and trembling”
This tree saw Richard’s excavator in the neighborhood. I suppose excavators make trees tremble with fear.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
Caveat: Poem #2784 “An epilogue to an untold tale”
ㅁ The road was long, the sun did shine, it seemed spring had arrived. He sat to rest beside the road, surprised he had survived.
– a quatrain in ballad meter.
Caveat: Tree #1877 “Death by the window”
This tree is a young bay laurel tree I had in a bucket in the house. It did really well for about a year then just mysteriously seems to have died (or having grown quite unhealthy, began approaching death asymptotically) a few weeks ago. I am very sad.
[daily log: walking, 1km;]
Caveat: Poem #2783 “Additional advice”
ㅁ Today's "don't do list": Don't go to work on Sunday. Don't struggle with work.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1876 “Resting”
This tree was in some snow a a few weeks ago, at the 8-mile bridge. I am showing this picture because I didn’t take a fresh tree picture today.
Art took a walk down the road today, and apparently (I wasn’t there) sat down (or lay down?) to “rest” and someone thought he was a body in the road and “rescued” him and brought him home. Art claims nothing went wrong he was just resting. I’m not so sure.
[daily log: walking, 4.5km;]
Caveat: Poem #2782 “Not yet”
ㅁ Apropos yesterday's reflection: Arthur and I skyped with my mom. "You doing anything fun?" she asked him, just to talk. His answer: "Not yet." Seventy-nine... maybe time to have fun.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1875 “영광군”
This tree is a guest tree from my past. I took this picture in April, 2011, at the rural public school where I worked, in Yeonggwang County, South Korea.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km;]
Caveat: Poem #2781 “Caregiving to my uncle”
ㅁ Living with Arthur and maintaining any peace of mind is quite hard. These days, he's like his father: obdurate resentment and pessimism, unwavering, flavored with false cheer.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1874 “My π tattoo is taking longer than expected”
This tree noted that my much-neglected treehouse continues to fail to fall down.
Joke read online (made me laugh): “My π tattoo is taking longer than expected.”
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 1hr]
Caveat: Poem #2780 “Metaphor”
ㅁ This here metaphor, pointlessly accessible, is a fantasy.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1873 “Waiting around / sheer panic”
This tree awaited the approaching darkness.
I’m really not doing well lately. I’m really stressed by the financial “bookkeeping” side of running the store – especially preparing for and dealing with tax-related stuff. I hate preparing taxes even when they’re easy – and this year, for the first time in my life (arguably), they are definitely NOT easy. Running a small business is a bureaucratic tangle worthy of Kafka.
Meanwhile, I feel like I’ve increasingly lost a technical grasp of the websites I run – they coast along but there are aspects of how they work that I truly cannot understand, and that leaves me feeling helpless when things go wrong – as happened this evening with the main map website.
Arthur is unpredictable – as I’ve mentioned many times before, being a caretaker to Arthur is a bit like being an active-duty military person: 95% waiting around and doing stupid make-work, and 5% sheer panic and SOLVE THIS PROBLEM NOW!
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 9hr]
Caveat: Poem #2779 “Simile”
ㅁ Like a simile, these words have a role to play, but no one hears them.
– a pseudo-haiku. This is one of those rare daily poems that essentially appeared in my mind already fully-formed at my moment of awaking.
Caveat: Tree #1872 “Amid the panoptic gray”
This tree saw a momentary slice of blue amid the panoptic gray.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 9hr]
Caveat: Poem #2778 “Hours of geologic time”
ㅁ The temporary glacier out there, made of snow and ice and chilled mud, is gradually unmade by the visitations of churlish raindrops, by the mad gusts of dumb wind. The yard clears...
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1871 “Add crunch to your commute”
This tree bore witness to my morning commute, now with added crunchiness and slipperiness, due to steady drizzle falling on the icy road.
[daily log: walking, 5km; retailing, 9hr]
Caveat: Poem #2777 “Above”
ㅁ down the steps snow-laden to the hollow with fallen branches where the treehouse stairway provides access to the space damp with the rain and melting snow suspended there among greenery
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1870 “Standing aside for snow”
This tree stood aside as more snow fell over on lot 73.
[daily log: walking, 1km;]
Caveat: Poem #2776 “Ephemerality”
ㅁ the atmosphere teems with sadnesses exhaled by all the aimless ghosts that populate the margins of our bland perceptions but when confronted fade right away like vapor rising up
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Tree #1869 “손병희”
This tree is a guest tree from my past. I took this picture in July, 2009, in Seoul. The tree is behind a statue of Son Byeong-hui, a Korean religious leader, modernization advocate, and later independence activist, who died in Japanese prison in 1922.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 3hr]
Caveat: Poem #2775 “Null statement”
ㅁ Right now, there's nothing I can think of to write, here, so you will see this.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1868 “Contrast”
This tree is in stark contrast to its encvironment.
[daily log: walking, 1km;]
Caveat: Poem #2774 “Around”
ㅁ There's this inertia. The mind just does these small loops. Nothing gets done.
– a pseudo-haiku.