Sunday, January 10, 2016

Think-tank system Macbeth

I shall read from the book of Closed Captions. You know, the little CC icon one can click on in a YouTube video to generate automatic subtitles, if one is watching old, old movies late at night, many with British actors speaking at ludicrous speeds. 

You see, one is drawn into this alternate universe when one has no social life. And one easily forgives auto-title occasionally butchering dialogue along the lines of this email which promises me millions: 
Forgive my indignation if this message comes to you as a surprise and may offend your personality for contacting you without your prior consent... 

One understands when auto-title mistakes "First of all--" for Festival, or "Just think," for Testing. But what situation in a 1930's film justifies the caption Think-tank system Macbeth? One is baffled when the blast of a cruise ship's horn translates to The moon. One suggests you watch movies like Cottage to Let or Ghost Train with the sound off to behold the abomination. 

Here we go. One has added only punctuation. 

That's not the way to lubricate my last statement, just minutes away.OK. Click on them for me. That's it. Baloney Department. Last month, Mom, I made the Eurasian beautiful. 
Thank you, ominous possibility 20. I'm at the Vatican, OK?

May we put one in the Yahoo group?
Paddington trendy pick from Pat the bat. You want static. No, no, no, he should've come home tonight. Yeah, I old.

Thank you, extremism up. You must spatter out to make room for me, because of me.
Missus Brendzen structures all that you want to consider yourself a guest.
I killed them, thank you very much indeed.

I might try to stay up six minutes and 42 seconds. 
Got tough, but what about men? Notably, no lunch.
28 couldn't look good enough
and has an assistant who is, shall we say, a little girl.

You get the gist. Really, I guess I'd like to find a hidden key to this secret language, some profound code.  After all, what's the answer to life, the universe & everything?... 42.  Coincidence? I think not. 

Give it a try. (Your results may vary.) If you need me, I'm at the Vatican, OK?

Thursday, January 7, 2016

The View From January

On mornings when I can, I drink coffee by my kitchen window. In warmer weather, I drink it on my deck, with a view of my little pond. I have a rickety, cushioned reclining lawn chair I found for free on the way to Perry's a couple years ago. It's so comfortable, I keep it in the sunny corner of the kitchen all winter. I call it my Titanic deck chair. This was the view, last weekend.

The temperature was in the sixties F on Christmas day. My pond didn't freeze across until January 2, a new late record. I worry about climate change, but selfishly, I'm happy there hasn't been brutal cold and snow so far. I don't like mud, but it's easier to walk in it than on ice with my prosthetic leg. 

My leg's attachment mechanism (the lock that keeps my stump cinched into the socket with a lanyard screwed onto the gel liner) is currently broken. This means the leg can pull out of the socket, gradually, but enough to slow my walk to a cautious creep. This is on top of the increasing layers of stump socks I have to wear since my stump's been shrinking for months. I've started the process of getting a new socket, but I took the leg in to Hanger yesterday hoping for a new lock now. None on hand. Ordered, expected next week. 

So outside, I creep. Inside, the coffee's hot, the deck chair comfy, and the ship isn't sinking right now. The sun is even shining, today. Happy New Year from Holy Crow Farm.