Occasional Sputterings

Day 1 complete. Below is the letter I sent to my paternal grandparents: Grandma/Grandpa,     Hello! I don't know if I have ever written you in long-hand - I do hope this letter finds you well!     I just wanted to say "I love you" and that I was thinking of you. Ialso wanted to sharea bout your great-grandchildren.!     Manual is getting so big! He's 8 and loves puzzles, LEGOs, mazes, and is growing into a responsible, Godly young man.     Edward is also growing up so fast! he's 6 and is into coloring books, LEGOs, and Manny. They're best friends - though they sometimes fight a bit.     Amanda has always been big for her age. She's only 3½ and almost keeps up with her brothers! She can't yet run, so they do tend to pull ahead.     Tanya stays busy - this morning she volunteered at a a local race (a 5 kilometer, I believe) and this afternoon she is atte...

Towards the end of keeping myself accountable to this task, I've decided to track/post to whom I intend to send letters here.  It is tempting to analyze my selections, their order, and other similar details.  But I won't. I realize I have a temptation - it would be fascinating to place all these letters in a book, as well as their responses,  There are so many memories and moments that are lost - this is especially true with the life and experiences of those who are not part of the twitter generation, who didn't grow up with a camera, and perhaps would never touch a computer. I do note that I don't have the address for most of these people. Below is my current list; I may rearrange, group a few together, and the like.  I will update as inspiration strikes (and try to keep each version, in case that is of interest). Who: 01. Mother #1 03. Father #1 02. Mother #2 04. Father #2 05. Maternal #1 Mother 06. Maternal #1 Father 07. Paterna...

"Time makes fools of us all" (stolen with admiration from someone wittier than i) I recently learned that a family member has been struggling with cancer, has gone through all the treatments they have available, and is at a point wherein they are what appears to be a holding pattern awaiting death.  It's been a slow-burn of an impact for me - I was notified in parts a few times in the past week (as the information was disseminated over several days) and one of the biggest impacts is ironically something I used to actually value - distance away from family. One of the things I was always nudged to do growing up was to "visit".  We'd have company or family over and a parent would tell me to go "visit".  I begrudged every moment - it took me away from clearly more important things like video games, books, sleeping, or whatever odd alternative preference I had at the time.  At the time, I did not see the value in all these earnest, open people...

(ref: here ) The hardest thing in the world is to begin. For those with low ideaphoria, the challenge of finding one word to follow another is staggering.  The search for the fallow baseline with which to lend oneself to the powerful, the relevant, the poignant, and the succinct gives way to frustration, distraction, and verbose.  This is ironic, and the source of many-a-filler paragraph - because the babble leads away from the base. Ironically, beginning is also a challenge for those with high ideaphoria; with insufficient practice or training, those with the ability to come up with a plethora of writ and relevant details can become paralyzed.  How does one select a singular vision?  How does the clarity and wit that so deftly carries one forward into the late game follow from this, the unknowable present? The real trick is to act like you're genuinely beginning anew - for the reality is that none of us begin at the beginning.  We begin in the mi...

Juno reached out and walked her right hand along the letters in the MAKE etching. As her finger left the E, the white-noise abruptly stopped; on the other side of the door, machines of varying sizes began humming to life. The room appeared to grow larger as the sheets fell while the bed slid quickly into the wall; Juno quickly landed on her feet and watched as golden footprints appeared. Curious, Juno stood and followed the footprints to the far wall; upon arrival, the rest of the room dimmed as an archway roughly a foot above Juno lay imprinted on the wall. As Juno examined the archway, the entire portion of the wall in front of her grew painfully, brilliantly lit.  As she shielded her eyes, she looked into the strange source of the light. "That ... light feels like its changing ..." said Juno, as the light grew in intensity.  The moment before she blacked out, Juno turned to see a familiar face behind her. And Juno slept. [ Awake ]

Barely acknowledging the vial, Juno slumped down and rolled into her pillow.  The moment her eyes remarked of Rapid Eye Movement, the tile quickly fell, a thin cylinder arose around the vial, and both returned to the floor. Small voices outside the cell died down as the sourceless white noise slowly rose again. A pinprick appeared in the wall; the hole grew to three centimeters and slowly poured fourth a mechanical arm.  Upon reaching its full four feet, the arm slowly nestled Juno, covered her legs, and returned to the hole.  As the arm slid smoothly into the wall, the aperture closed leaving no mark. [Respond to arm] [Awake with a start]

Juno reached for the vial and held it aloft.  Barely transparent auto-carbons floated amidst macro-nanic wrappers. "They sure know how to fix a body," thought Juno, as she drew the vial to her lips. The anti-hum of the white-noise generator slowly filled her periphery as she slowly drank the fluid.  Juno felt the strange, purple mixture reach her throat and warmth branch out to shoulders, thighs, knees.  A gentle numbness followed to her fingers and toes. "S'always feels odd," said Juno, as her tongue fell asleep. As the fluid reached her eyes, Juno sensed the door slide open quietly; trying to look up, Juno's eyes slowly walked from floor - to tile - and the back of a white lab-coat drew her attention to the door as the door began to close. [Leave the room] [Blink]