Don’t panic. I won’t actually be doing this on a daily basis. I am sliding slowly into senility and by tomorrow I won’t even remember contemplating such an ambitious notion.
And by tomorrow I will have forgotten much of anything that I might have said today and virtually everything that I might have written. So I store some of the sillier stuff on this page for safe keeping. I don’t know why.
Cheryl had a few thoughts here about expressing one’s emotions with paint. And I did too. So this is what I said.
A picture paints a thousand words
But I can’t hold a brush
I try to capture thoughts of you
But it all turns to mush
Paint like tears keeps running down
The canvas of my cheek
And no amount of artistry
Will say just what I seek
To say to you, relay to you
The love I feel. So when
The brush keeps shaking in my hand
Instead I use a pen
And then I discovered that Cyranny had transferred her regular Skype meeting here (which I regularly miss) from Sunday to Friday (Monday to Saturday from my perspective – you can understand an old man’s confusion) and I wondered if she was bringing it forwards or backwards. Here in the Southern Hemisphere the water rotates around the drain in the opposite direction to what it does for you guys in the Northern Hemisphere. That’s called Coriolis force. Aren’t I the smart one? Or am I just raving?
Anyway, I sought clarification from Cyranny, thus ….
I’ve skipped a Skypey Sunday
I’m always running late
But here, of course, it’s Monday
A completely different date
I hope you had a Funday
With every other friend
I’ll try to get there Oneday
But for now it’s love I send
But wait! Not late? You changed the date?
To several days before?
I can’t pretend to comprehend
My diary any more
Or is this straight. You’ve made us wait
Till Friday afternoon?
So I wasn’t absent after all
I was several days too soon
And that’s enough silliness for one day.