Virginia Breeze

Bright and early Sunday morning.  What’s Happening?

I don’t know.  One thing may be happening.  Or another.  Or Both.  Since we have returned from our vacation comments around here from just about everyone have stopped.  And when that happens the blogger has to ask him or herself. . .what is happening?

Maybe the vacation stuff was a degree or two more interesting and entertaining than your normal fare around here.  Readers are waiting for something as good before commenting.  Or maybe it is the Labor Day weekend.  Everybody is off enjoying their own vacation.  I hope this is the case.

Or maybe it’s me.  Maybe I’m having a letdown because I can’t take photos like this one now.  And so I don’t know what to do.

Probably this last thing is at the heart of the problem.  There are always things to write about and take photos of in your environment.  It’s more a matter of attitude.   Am I excited about life right now?  That’s the issue.  And I would have to say “No” to answer that question.

And two things can happen at this point.  I can lay low and say nothing.  Wait for the life springs to start flowing again.  Or I can explore this other world.  I can write about it.  Take photos of it.  And share some of it with you.

Any suggestions?

Or, more importantly, what are you doing this Labor Day weekend?

Bio

David Toms retired at fifty and recently began blogging to avoid having too much free time and perhaps going out of his mind.  A dead poet who has not yet introduced himself formally now inhabits his brain and helps him write poetry.

Mr. Toms lives with his beautiful wife and three dogs in Richmond, Virginia. He and his wife have five children and six grandchildren at last count. They travel a great deal and these adventures are documented in his blog Virginia Breeze.

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The music (above) and the poem go together. The music is longer than the poem reading so you may want to read it more than once.

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Bugs

When he was eight in the 50’s

His gang dug long ditches

And covered them

With boards and dirt.

You needed a password to get in.

His mother was afraid.

Her child was underground

And possibly food for worms

If the construction methods

Were not up to date.

So he was sentenced to the back yard

Alone. Behind some bushes

He dug his own place

But had no boards so used

A few branches and straw.

Then his little sister wandered by

And fell through the ceiling and cried.

His father felt he had tried to capture her

In a pit like a wild animal

So he was beaten with a belt

In the cellar and he cried.

Later he went out in the yard

And relaxed in the grass

With his arms thrown wide

Looking at the sky

Letting the mosquitoes bite

Until it didn’t hurt anymore.

The bites became kisses

And the pain went away.

* * *

A few days later he became ill

And his mother was alarmed.

She called the doctor

And he called the hospital.

The boy went there for weeks

And nearly died.

Peacefully.

He had a nice time

A vacation as everyone

Sat by his bed.

Perhaps even thought

About the place he might go

And all his new friends

Amid safe construction

Methods. Underground.

Recovery was slow

But he ran once again.

And his parents learned

A valuable lesson.

Don’t hold too close

The ones whom you love.

Or you may find

They have left you

Above.

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Bugs is a submission to Poets Wear Prada for an Anthology Selection- BUGS

Update// So what’s up?  Did you all fall asleep?  What do you think about this post?  Is it just plain idiotic?  Does it relate to anything you ever experienced?  What do you think?

Or are you sleeping at your keyboard?  Has passivity taken over your life?  Are you dreaming about next summer already?  What’s happening there boys and girls?  I can’t HEAR you?

Labor Day is just around the corner and summer is coming to an end.  I realize that some of us will still go to the beach in September and maybe even put our toes in the water.   But for reasons having to do with official policy summer is over.

“IT’S OVER!”

And it’s time to have a little philosophical moment here.  Why?  I don’t know.  Because we can?  Because we are bored and need something to do?

Because we have started referring to ourselves in the plural again and need to find a way to stop doing this?  We are not the Pope.  We will never be the Pope although we do have a rather bizarre fantasy about leading the world into the new millenium with our blogging efforts.

“Has he written a new post today?”  Words that will someday reverberate around the world in millions of homes.  NOT.

TODAY I would like to discuss with you a little problem that I have been noticing now for about, oh, many   years.

I know that there was a day before yesterday and a day before that and so forth.  But there must also be a day before the first day I can remember.  I know that I was born on December 25 (haha) 1948 and there must have been a day before that and so on back, back and back to the beginning.

Beginning?  Did I say beginning?  Well there must have been a beginning right?  Things have not just gone on forever.  So if there was a start somewhere eons ago then what was happening before the start?  NOTHING!

That’s why there was a start because before that there was nothing.  But, then, if there was nothing how could something have started out of nothing.  How could time have gotten started out of nothing all by itself?  That seems impossible.  So there was not a beginning perhaps.

And there will not be an end.

And that would mean that time actually does not exist. Because time is based on things starting and stopping or having a beginning and an end.

So maybe we just dreamed all of this up .  Maybe life is a dream!  And the fact that we go to bed every night, sleep and have dreams is a clue!   Because we wake up and say “Oh!  Good.  That was just a dream (if we just started WWIII) or Darn! That’s not good.  How do I get back into that dream?  (If we were having a nice time with Angelina while Brad was away making a movie  -He took all the kids with him). Maybe when we die we wake up and go “OMG what a strange dream I just had”.

Maybe we are dreaming right now.  You are reading this but you are dreaming.  I’m writing it but I am dreaming.  We think that dinner will be in a couple of hours but we are dreaming (Especially if we are supposed to be  making it and instead are goofing off at the computer.)

It’s all just a dream.  And one day we will wake up and go “Man!  That was some dream!

I wonder if we will still have the problem with time when/if that happens?  Because if it happens and I “wake up” and realize this gig is over and then look around and realize I’m still “doing time” I’m going to be really ticked !

Because that will mean I just went from one dream to another dream.  Maybe it will be a nicer dream.  But it will still be a dream.  And so the process will start over again.  Hopefully my hard drive will go with me wherever I end up so I can check these notes and make certain additions.

And communicate with the rest of you!

“Has he written another post yet today?”

I love Cynthia Rowe Dickerson.  I met her on Facebook awhile back and was immediately impressed with her intelligence and her resume.  And then I got to know her only to discover that she is also one of the nicest people I  have ever met.  She attracts people from all over the place to her Facebook page who have made the same discovery.

For months I tried to interest her in blogging.  And recently she decided to take the plunge.  There can be only one result when this dynamic person turns her energy towards the blogging world.

Watch out!

http://crd-whenpigsfly.blogspot.com/

However there is one thing that I should mention  in passing.

USC vs Virginia Cavaliers

Go Wahoos!