Small & Big

True story: loud conversation overheard between two little old ladies. Good for an embarrassed chuckle of embarrassment. Deliberate as a turtle through the woods, Jenny says, “Brown, black, red, yellow, and white.” Above, fragrant apple petals slip from blossoms, accompanied by birdsong. Chicka-dee-dee-dee . Landed petals give her silver curls a pale pink cast. “Oof!” Clara leans forward on the park bench. Her frail, refined body disguises a seargent’s voice. “You cannot call them that! You cannot label a person as a color.” Jenny rubs a soft petal between her fingertips. “We have such hues. White, red—” “That is ignorant. You cannot say someone is ‘red’ or ‘brown’. There are no ‘yellow’ people.” An upside-down squirrel click-clacks around the tree trunk. “But color is beautiful.” Dried leaves somersault across the lawn as Clara clutches the seat rest, white-knuckled. “If you are going to speak on this subject you must use the proper words. You must have greater respect. L

I have been dawdling myself silly. Those in the know, know that it’s been over three months since I completed a step in my humor learnings ( I Can Learn To Be Funny? ). Why? The next assignment sounds easy: take a photo, write a funny caption for it. Unfortunately there’s a block in my mental parts the size of Connecticut, hermetically sealing off “photograph” and “caption” into separate hemispheres. The Corpus Callosum Bridge linking ’em is closed indefinitely for repairs, causing a three-mile metaphor pile up. I don’t know what I’m saying here, but I plan to get back in gear and put the pedal to the metal. Anyone lend me $50 for gas? (Speaking of corpus collosum: you ever read about split-brain injuries in the book, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat by neurologist Oliver Sacks? Fascinating stuff.)

Three free things, just for you. FREE BOOK Adrift in America by Sid Leavitt “I was about to embark on my life in a truck. It wasn’t going to be just life in a truck. It was going to be a minimalist life in a truck, expenses cut to the bone, squeezing each dollar until, as they say, the eagle screamed.” Adrift in America is the true story of a middle-aged man who loses his job, his love, his youth, and moves into a truck where he intends to live at least the next 20 years. The author is a professional writer who hosts the thoughtful, well-written blog showcasing works by writers, called Readers and Writers Blog . FREE IMAGES NASA by the U.S. taxpayers Gorgeous photos that are literally out of this world. Be sure to make use of the images at NASA Image of the Day Gallery and NASA Featured Images . I used one in an illustration I posted called Tales & Legends . ( Image Usage Guidelines : See? Told you you could use them for free.) FREE VIDEO, AUDIO, SOFTWARE, IMAGES, ETC. Creative

People get freaked out by needles. (Good thing people ain’t pine trees.) An elderly yoga teacher once taught me the perfect, no-fail way to get a vaccination, shot, blood test, or whatever. Take in a deep, relaxing breath. Take that air all the way in to your lungs, and even enough to puff out your belly if you can. Hold that breath, comfortably. When the pointy thing is about to go in... Let the air out firmly through your mouth, concentrating on it as you do so, and keep exhaling until the pokey thing is in. Really concentrate on feeling your breath exhale. (Alternately, you could exhale through your nose.) That’s it! So simple, easy and magical. It works for other stuff too, like when a doctor sets (re-breaks) a broken bone. I can vouch for that. Boy can I. Fear can make us feel powerless. But your own body and breath are there to help you. Just this one simple breathing exercise will greatly reduce your physical and mental pains—and have you breathing a sigh of relief.

“One moment, please.” Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beeeeeeeep. “Thank you for continuing to hold. All of our agents are still assisting our other customers. For immediate help, check out our online page at www dot istockphoto dot com, slash f-a-q.” Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beeeeeeeep. “Thank you for continuing to hold. All of our agents are still assisting our other customers. For immediate help, check out our online page at www dot istockphoto dot com, slash f-a-q.” Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beeeeeeeep. “Thank you for continuing to hold. All of our agents are still assisting our other customers. For immediate help, check out our online page at www dot istockphoto dot com, slash f-a-q.” Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beeeeeeeep. “Thank you for continuing to hold. All of our agents are still assisting our other customers. For immediate help, check out our online page at www dot istockphoto dot com, slash f-a-q.” Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beeeeeeeep. “Thank you for continuing to hold. All of our agents are st

I’m reading the book, The Imagineering Way: Ideas to Ignite Your Creativity , and came upon this wonderful bit: Dr. Ross Edy, a well-known international neuroscientist and longtime friend of my husband, once told me that if you take two separate live heart cells from two separate mammals and put them pulsing in the same petri dish—left alone—in a short time, they will find each other’s rhythm and start to beat in time with each other. — Karen Connolly Armitage Senior Concept Designer Creative Development Walt Disney Company Something to think about, eh?

A field, warm           bubbles over round red clover           singing song,           greenleaf song,           winding wood airs transparent wings           zig over zag           under bloom, animal stripes           land the open           blossom, pad           across long-shag six percussion           toes thrum against           living carpet one honey bee           her brown body           a living hum a humdinger           of a hum.

Love the online version of The New York Times . Love, love, love it. However—and this has a big capital H, followed by a long pause wherein I don’t type—however, a recent mailing they sent caused me to heartedly question our future together. First off let me share with you that I am grateful every time I peruse their online edition, and have been for more than five years. There is no paper to unfold and fold, no ink smearing my fingertips, no yellowing newsprint stored in my recycle bin, and no trudging said paper off to the Duxbury town dump. (I don’t abide calling it a “transfer station.” “Dump” gets us where we need to go 75% quicker.) Most enjoyable, though, is not having to pick through murders and robberies and other garbage to find my science and health news. Unlike the printed paper, online I see only headlines and snippets until I click a specific article that I choose to read. This makes for less junk going to my subconscious. I keep a clean mind, see. So, I’m reading the Tim

Comedian Jerry Seinfeld was unhurt after a real-life vehicular accident in his 1967 Fiat. Following the standard Comedy Rule of Threes, he first tried the brakes (not working), then the emergency brake (not working), and then executed a classic swerve, whereupon the vintage car “sort of fell over on its side.” Afterwards, Mr Seinfeld offered this sage advice: “Because I know there are kids out there, I want to make sure they all know that driving without braking is not something I recommend, unless you have professional clown training or a comedy background, as I do.” See related stories at: Boston.com , Huffington Post

An angel in the post office Wanted pre-1965 paper money for time travel, Free green tea, Hornets nest, Box of 60 doll heads, Mounted lobster, Carton of irregular cat hats. Is this your pet Couch - very uncomfortable, red - $3.75? Take my bees, please. Advice to young men from an old man: Potato cannon. I almost crossed the street From the Craigslist archives: 100 years ago. Large glass jar (possibly containing a ghost).

Over eons I add poetry to this page. But for now there is... Parade Wasps parade round the rusty steel door. Buzzing kazoo band six stepping in buoyant circles. Last summer their veteran parade marshal stung me twice for straying beyond the sideline. She was tight waisted black armored and expert at the precise use of her long sharp baton. I yelped away scooted far away. She accepted this apology. Today carefully shut behind the safe end of the creaky old door I peek out I admire I know my place. Walking Walking carries me And so I find myself, step by step. Ration(al) Gray gravel path Twines through green A moment as brief Trains to light summer sundown ocean lobster blossom red dalmation lady wingshell tippytap Hearing See seafoam bubble monster wiggle seagull grinding wave machine seagrass pebble pink'n seaweed beaching seaboomchurn seasalt stiff season see Canteen Horses Canteen horses sweat out a muscle, pour out their little mouses box and jab, lean punch a trail. Between A

☐ Donating Kidney ☐ Perfecting Operatic-Yet-Warbling-Yet-Magnetic Mating Call ☐ Scrubbing Behind Ears ☐ Invisible, Sneaking Around ☐ Kangaroo Boxing

An homage to something or other. This is my answer to Illustration Friday’s ( IF website ) assignment to illustrate “Homage”. With three cuts from way nifty Briar Press .

My peculiar aristocratic title is... Reverend Countess Frederick the Indefatigable of Fiddlehope in the Marsh But I have others, which I pull out for special occasions... Her Eminence the Very Viscountess Frederick the Unhyphenated of Mousehole by Sea and Venerable Lady Frederick the Cowardly of Giggleswich Lanken . My close friends call me Reverend Eminence Venerable Fred. Would you like a high-falutin title of thine own? Oh, do! Get your peculiar aristocratic title here.

Thankfully, these products are no longer on the market. Staple Yourself! Broccoli Blocks Star Wartz ARC-170 Remover Monster Toe Jam Play-DooDoo Bratz Wurst Ukulele Hero KKKen Butter Bell * Mind Your Limbs: The Historically Accurate Industrial Revolution Factory Job, Now With No Breaks (Rest Breaks, That Is!) * ’Cept this. But it’s now mostly marketed to adults.