Wednesday, November 12, 2014

My Neighbor's Killer Geese

I used to live in the suburbs. It took all the kids in the neighborhood about half an hour to walk to school, including me. I lived the furthest away, so for the last five or sometimes ten minutes, I walked alone.

Living in the suburbs was fun. I still remember walking home through country roads or fields, always by myself. I started doing this when I was six years old and began attending senior kindergarten.

Luckily, I was on the second school shift, which meant I didn't have to go to school until as late as 11 am sometimes. I was allowed to sleep in, and I don't remember ever waking up early during my elementary school days.

I know, I know, the story about the killer geese.

Well, my neighbor raised geese for food. They fed them very well, and they grew to be giant. There were always a dozen of them. This was especially intimidating because I was a small person back then. These giant geese were let out on the street to graze on the grass by the side of the road.

They were not happy geese. They were grumpy and behaved like dogs, always trying to chase me. They didn't have babies to protect, so I'm not sure why they targeted me whenever I appeared on the horizon.

Just like I avoided bullies throughout my life, I also avoided geese. I didn't confront them because it was pointless. Instead, I took a different path. Occasionally, I had to face dogs on that different path, but that was rare. I also got to see cows who did nothing but stare at me.

In the end, I would arrive home an hour later, not because it actually took that long to get home using my alternative path, but because I was a collector. I would gather leaves, grass, flowers, and anything else that caught my eye.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

What is Writer's Block? A Paradox Defined

I am really pulling my brains out today what to write about. It is a fact that to be good at writing I need to practice every day. Well, today is just no go. I think I am experiencing major writer's block because I cannot come up with a topic to write about.

"Writer's block is a condition, primarily associated with writing, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work. The condition ranges in difficulty from coming up with original ideas to being unable to produce a work for years. Throughout history, writer's block has been a documented problem." ~ Wiki

However, am I really experiencing writer's block? I am writing something down. I am having some thoughts. I think I am contradicting myself though. Is writing about having a writer's block is really a writer's block? I think I just discovered a paradox. I am having circular thoughts that are not getting me anywhere writing; and not getting you anywhere while you are reading this nonsense.

"A paradox is a statement that apparently contradicts itself and yet might be true." ~  Wiki

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Keep Up the Great Work

At the dinner table I was looking at Matthew and thinking where did the time go. He is now six year old. It feels just like yesterday when Matthew only was combining two or three words together to form sentences. Today he talks like an adult. He asks lot of questions as well.

'Dad to you know what objective means?', Matthew asked Dad.
'Tell me what does it mean', Dad asked to explain.
'Objective means to accomplish something', he replied proud that he was able to define it in his own way.
'Well done!', we replied.

After dinner we had one last piece of homework to complete. Every week Matthew in school writes us something about his week and our homework is to write Matthew a reply.

'Have fun and keep up the great work', were our last words in Matthew's journal.
'Oh man you can't say that again', he said after reading it.

Apparently he takes our journal responses very seriously and telling him to keep up the great work every week that puts stress on him. We agreed to write this statement every other week.

'That's great, I like that pattern', he added.


Saturday, November 1, 2014

Flaky Fate

Snow flakes, some
fall down and stay.
Snow flakes, some
fall down and melt.
Snow flakes, some
never reach the ground,