before i die, i will master these

a human being should be able to  

change a diaper. 

plan an invasion. 

butcher a hog. 

steer a ship. 

design a building. 

write a sonnet. 

balance accounts. 

build a wall. 

set a bone. 

comfort the dying. 

take orders. 

give orders. 

cooperate. 

act alone. 

solve equations. 

analyze a new problem. 

pitch manure. 

program a computer. 

cook a tasty meal. 

fight efficiently. 

die gallantly. 

- robert heinlein

the peace of wild things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

it caught my eye that several of my labels are put only on one post each. this post is to fix that.

i like working, especially if i get paid for it.    ...duh.

technology is crazy awesome these days. if you watch sci-fi movies from 5 years ago, their technology is just the same as ours is today. "it's just the same today, it's just the same today..."

"march comes in like a lion, what else? still the snow never melts..."

i like going places where lots of people are. it recharges my battery.

teddy roosevelt

i don't think i'd ever be able to vote with a certain party. i'll probably always be independent.

"i think that i shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree..." or something like that.

i'm almost at the length where i can get another haircut. i'm in the middle of growing my hair out. next stop: lily allen-esque shoulder length hair.

george grant's speech impediments have lessened over the years.

things are always funnier when it's a fat kid. think about it...jumping...running...sliding down the bannister...

my uncle joe digs up dinosaur bones.

i could be a very crafty person if i had the materials. crafty as in...craft lady...not foxy crafty.

alcohol makes me need to use the bathroom.

my husband had better be this way...please, God.

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who stand in the line and haul in their places,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

by Marge Piercy