In search of story


Connections: February 12

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERAI blogged to you, dear reader,

on January twenty-five

that my introvert amaryllis


shyly, dubiously live.

Now look at it and marvel:

my haughty Nefertiti

rising regally above

the quotidian and the bitty.

In glossy swollen blushings

arisen from wrapping plain

she promises the glory

of a bright and gaudy reign.




Connections: February 9

2015-10 - 66 - AntennasWhere’s the writers’ catalog

that offers such invention?

I need more than prompt and blog —

a step beyond convention.

My writer’s brain is jumbled

by inchoate voices within;

I need these to cut through the mumble

to help me unriddle the din.

I’d put one on my shoulder

and the other on my head;

I know I’d be so much bolder

if I could just hear what’s being said.

More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.



The old lady who danced a jig

By way of experiment, the old lady tried to insert photos into her blog again — and she did it! “Media upload” worked! The old lady was ecstatic and danced a jig around the room. This is also known as the rheumatiz gavotte and is risky because the old lady was a dance-school drop-out once upon a distant time. But the sheer joy of the moment caused her to rise above the confines of age and sense. And she is sure that the wall she tried to claim as partner can be easily patched.

She hereby thanks the WordPress Happiness Engineers for working their magic. She knows that she is hanging on to the blog world by the merest thread and so it is with profound gratitude that she finds that thread strengthened.

Her readers will also be glad to hear that the old lady has a new printer and that she has gone so far as to read the directions that came with it. She has flawlessly executed the first directive: remove the tape. Nothing exploded and so it was time for another jig.

The old lady needs a nap.


The old lady who asked WHY

One day an old lady started a blog. She was nervous but very proud. She was bravely entering an alien world.

Then one day she learned how to put photos in her posts! She was euphoric! Slowly she became less terrified. Not comfortable, mind you, just less terrified.

Then one day her camera changed: the photos were blurry and the colors were not true. She scratched her head. “Why?” she asked.

Then one day she was typing on her keyboard when something clattered on her left. She looked over at her printer — which, by the way, she was not using — and saw a large piece of blue plastic which had not been there a moment before. Again she scratched her head. “Why?” she asked. Immediately there was another clatter, and there lay a cartridge. This time the old lady asked nothing at all, but just sat staring at her fractured printer.

Then one day she tried to insert a photo into a blog post. She’d done it before with no problem. Not this time. “Why?” she asked, with maybe one small tear. She tried again and again. She clicked on everything, learned nothing. Eventually she found her way to theoretical places called Support and Forum, where people spoke in tongues, none of which she understood.

It was hopeless. The blog world — and everything related to it — was obviously incomprehensible.

She knew she was whupped, so she grabbed her pencil and climbed into a time machine. She can be found in 1956 with her Kodak Brownie and steno pad.