QOTD - Slinky People
Some people are like Slinkies . . . not really good for anything, but you still can’t help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs.
received by email, author unknown
January 11, 2006
Approaching Structural Limitations
Anyone notice that the rate of blog publishing is directly proportional to the amount of time not invested in indentured servitude?Well it’s been noticeable to me. Life at Gigantic Concrete continues its merry path of “chaos and consumption”; time is never under control and there is never enough of it.
I have my team spread thin to the far corners of the empire on various and sundry tasks. I’m trying to hold down the fort, answer service calls, plan several varied and complex projects, try and fit in interviews for additional contract help, and keep the stream of electrons flowing constantly so that the flow of rock never ceases… Can you say stressed?
The Christmas lull is over, the new year of projects and mayhem has washed ashore like a tsunami of tasks and expectations, and me without a life raft or a rubber ducky.
Lost
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
Poem: “Lost,” by David Wagoner from Collected Poems 1956-1976 © Indiana University Press.
From the Writer’s Almanac by Garrison Keillor
Available by e-mail daily.
Further reading available at Amazon Canada, US and UK
Available by e-mail daily.
Further reading available at Amazon Canada, US and UK
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