Trunk or Treat, Tricks, Time and Temptation
#21
10-31-2014, 11:01 AM
#22
10-31-2014, 02:37 PM
Recovery Vehicle
It’s amazing to think that Halloween is only one week away. Signs advertising ‘trunk or treating’ pepper the roadside like lemonade stands under shade trees on a hot summer day. A new concept to me, there wasn’t such a thing as ‘trunk or treating’ when I grew up – it was don your most creative costume and politely head out with a plastic bag to see what goodies awaited you at each doorstep. I remember the first time I went trick or treating. I was Yogi the Bear with a plastic, store purchased mask and my sister was a Witch with highly teased hair. I was 3 years old and I don’t think we were even twenty feet out the door when my dad turned us around and headed back into the house. ‘One stepped in dog **** and the other puked in her mask’ he said. Next year you’re taking them!’ My mom was standing there with the candy bowl trying in her best style not to laugh. We had fun anyway, got washed up and like little troopers went back out to try it again. The lure of candy had us hooked.
I was reminded of this child-like excitement once again this week as I picked up a few supplies for a friend who was feeling under the weather. The cashier asked me what I was going to be for Halloween. ‘Excuse me?’ I asked. ‘I just love Halloween’ she gushed. ‘I start planning my costume months in advance – I’m going to be a zombie this year. What are you going to be?’
‘I hadn’t given it much thought’ I replied as I placed a red-horned, furry, devil headband onto the belt. I figured I’d throw it in for good measure to make my friend laugh. ‘Maybe I’ll be a Carrot Dangler’ I replied. She gave me an odd look and rang up the total.‘ That will be $12.71. Good luck with your costume!’
It was a toss-up. I played with the devil fur-trimmed horns and contemplated being ‘the daughter of the devil himself as well as an angel in white’ or an honest to goodness, down to earth Carrot Dangler. My past costumes for Halloween have been varied and vast. I started out with Yogi the Bear but worked my way into a ghost, a Hershey bar, a painter (with many varied brushes in my bucket), Laura Ingalls, the classic witch, the energizer bunny (battery and drum complete – kids don’t try this at home – you will never fit thru a door), a mime who looked more like a member of the rock-band Kiss, what else… oh yes, a Robert Palmer girl complete with mini skirt, slick hair, red lips and guitar.
I’m sure there were many more that I don’t remember but I do remember this:
I have never been a Carrot Dangler.
A Carrot Dangler shouldn’t be confused with a Horse Wrangler. There is a difference. Horse Wranglers actually lead and lasso their subject and bring them in from time to time. Some even whisper to their subject. Carrot Danglers merely carry a bag of carrots and dangle them the entire way. Just. Out. Of. Reach.
Just.
An easy costume to put together. One bag of carrots, maybe two. A long stick, some string or duck tape, and a little creativity.
And that’s all folks. Nothing to it – although it takes a little time to make such a costume which to me is the puzzling part. What motivates one to invest the time? I’m appreciative of the time others spend on being creative, but why do they do it? Is it for fun? Is it for a greater cause? Are they in love with the holiday? Are they more interested in the thrill? Are they trying to scare their neighbors?....
I wish I could say that Halloween put the excitement into me like it did for the cashier at the dollar store. I wonder what fulfillment she receives from her efforts or if she is just a kid at heart. What motivates one to continue year after year creating the ultimate (if not perfect) costume?
We are taught from a young age that if we play by the rules we will be rewarded for good behavior. I chose or created my costume, I put it on with care, walked up to the door and rang the bell. I politely said ‘trick or treat’. Nine out of ten times I was rewarded with candy. There was only one time that I was not. The house was there, the porch light was on, the neighborhood lady was in the kitchen doing dishes and when I rang her doorbell she ducked below the kitchen window. I kid you not. She hid. Her pumpkin was lit and she never came to the door. I will never forget it. Did I trick her because she wouldn’t treat? No…. I just walked away, kicking and shuffling through the fallen leaves, wondering what the hell just happened.
And I felt that way this week. As adults we have responsibilities that we don’t have to carry when we are children. A part of life and growing up, I suppose. No one is there to tell us what the rules are and how we should act. We have an ingrained idea, however (that we hopefully have brought with us from our childhood) but sometimes it’s difficult to stay within the invisible lines. I know that my inner child likes to come out and play from time to time. It’s not fun being responsible 24/7 and I would hazard a guess that is why I like writing, getting a little crazy and communicating with you on this forum. What I’ve found in life, however, as I’m sure many of you have as well, is that it’s not as simple as being polite and doing what you’re supposed to do to receive that little bit of candy as an adult. Life doesn’t work that way (unless you’re Army Rover and receive a free Discovery II
). On the flip side, however, (and this sounds very selfish) I’ve realized that without that little piece of candy there isn’t much of a reason to play. And that makes Ms. Slightly Crazy a slightly dull girl. Why would anyone go knocking on doors if there is no reply? Doesn’t make sense to me. There is only so much of myself I can give before I need to re-nourish my soul.
Like a horse, donkey, mule or jackass being coaxed uphill with that dangling carrot we all need reinforcements in life. A pay raise, a smile, ten minutes of a friend’s time. Not a very romantic notion but it’s practical. Life’s lesson begin with win/win. If someone doesn’t invest the time into you that you do for them, then is it a win/win? What makes one stay? Nothing can be one sided and still exist. I’ve realized this week that I may not need candy but I do need contact. I deserve that.
I hope I haven’t become too jaded in my ‘older’ age because I believe perfection to be unattainable. There is no such thing as the perfect costume, the perfect life, the perfect person, the perfect friend. I’m not that naïve, little, three year old in a Yogi the Bear mask (minus the vomit) knocking on a neighbor’s door for a small piece of chocolate. I learned at a real young age that the neighbor’s dog already ate it.
So Rover enthusiasts, before I slip over into the abyss
would any of you care to share what the fascination is with Halloween? What will you be this year? Do you have any fond memories of Halloween’s past? Are you the type to trick if you don’t get a treat or are you, like me, unfortunately, one tempted to walk away? Have you ever trunk or treated and is the Rover the vehicle to do it in?
I was reminded of this child-like excitement once again this week as I picked up a few supplies for a friend who was feeling under the weather. The cashier asked me what I was going to be for Halloween. ‘Excuse me?’ I asked. ‘I just love Halloween’ she gushed. ‘I start planning my costume months in advance – I’m going to be a zombie this year. What are you going to be?’
‘I hadn’t given it much thought’ I replied as I placed a red-horned, furry, devil headband onto the belt. I figured I’d throw it in for good measure to make my friend laugh. ‘Maybe I’ll be a Carrot Dangler’ I replied. She gave me an odd look and rang up the total.‘ That will be $12.71. Good luck with your costume!’
It was a toss-up. I played with the devil fur-trimmed horns and contemplated being ‘the daughter of the devil himself as well as an angel in white’ or an honest to goodness, down to earth Carrot Dangler. My past costumes for Halloween have been varied and vast. I started out with Yogi the Bear but worked my way into a ghost, a Hershey bar, a painter (with many varied brushes in my bucket), Laura Ingalls, the classic witch, the energizer bunny (battery and drum complete – kids don’t try this at home – you will never fit thru a door), a mime who looked more like a member of the rock-band Kiss, what else… oh yes, a Robert Palmer girl complete with mini skirt, slick hair, red lips and guitar.
I’m sure there were many more that I don’t remember but I do remember this:
I have never been a Carrot Dangler.
A Carrot Dangler shouldn’t be confused with a Horse Wrangler. There is a difference. Horse Wranglers actually lead and lasso their subject and bring them in from time to time. Some even whisper to their subject. Carrot Danglers merely carry a bag of carrots and dangle them the entire way. Just. Out. Of. Reach.
Just.
An easy costume to put together. One bag of carrots, maybe two. A long stick, some string or duck tape, and a little creativity.
And that’s all folks. Nothing to it – although it takes a little time to make such a costume which to me is the puzzling part. What motivates one to invest the time? I’m appreciative of the time others spend on being creative, but why do they do it? Is it for fun? Is it for a greater cause? Are they in love with the holiday? Are they more interested in the thrill? Are they trying to scare their neighbors?....
I wish I could say that Halloween put the excitement into me like it did for the cashier at the dollar store. I wonder what fulfillment she receives from her efforts or if she is just a kid at heart. What motivates one to continue year after year creating the ultimate (if not perfect) costume?
We are taught from a young age that if we play by the rules we will be rewarded for good behavior. I chose or created my costume, I put it on with care, walked up to the door and rang the bell. I politely said ‘trick or treat’. Nine out of ten times I was rewarded with candy. There was only one time that I was not. The house was there, the porch light was on, the neighborhood lady was in the kitchen doing dishes and when I rang her doorbell she ducked below the kitchen window. I kid you not. She hid. Her pumpkin was lit and she never came to the door. I will never forget it. Did I trick her because she wouldn’t treat? No…. I just walked away, kicking and shuffling through the fallen leaves, wondering what the hell just happened.
And I felt that way this week. As adults we have responsibilities that we don’t have to carry when we are children. A part of life and growing up, I suppose. No one is there to tell us what the rules are and how we should act. We have an ingrained idea, however (that we hopefully have brought with us from our childhood) but sometimes it’s difficult to stay within the invisible lines. I know that my inner child likes to come out and play from time to time. It’s not fun being responsible 24/7 and I would hazard a guess that is why I like writing, getting a little crazy and communicating with you on this forum. What I’ve found in life, however, as I’m sure many of you have as well, is that it’s not as simple as being polite and doing what you’re supposed to do to receive that little bit of candy as an adult. Life doesn’t work that way (unless you’re Army Rover and receive a free Discovery II
). On the flip side, however, (and this sounds very selfish) I’ve realized that without that little piece of candy there isn’t much of a reason to play. And that makes Ms. Slightly Crazy a slightly dull girl. Why would anyone go knocking on doors if there is no reply? Doesn’t make sense to me. There is only so much of myself I can give before I need to re-nourish my soul.Like a horse, donkey, mule or jackass being coaxed uphill with that dangling carrot we all need reinforcements in life. A pay raise, a smile, ten minutes of a friend’s time. Not a very romantic notion but it’s practical. Life’s lesson begin with win/win. If someone doesn’t invest the time into you that you do for them, then is it a win/win? What makes one stay? Nothing can be one sided and still exist. I’ve realized this week that I may not need candy but I do need contact. I deserve that.
I hope I haven’t become too jaded in my ‘older’ age because I believe perfection to be unattainable. There is no such thing as the perfect costume, the perfect life, the perfect person, the perfect friend. I’m not that naïve, little, three year old in a Yogi the Bear mask (minus the vomit) knocking on a neighbor’s door for a small piece of chocolate. I learned at a real young age that the neighbor’s dog already ate it.
So Rover enthusiasts, before I slip over into the abyss
would any of you care to share what the fascination is with Halloween? What will you be this year? Do you have any fond memories of Halloween’s past? Are you the type to trick if you don’t get a treat or are you, like me, unfortunately, one tempted to walk away? Have you ever trunk or treated and is the Rover the vehicle to do it in?Pardon my grammer....... sentence structure, punctuation, composition, spelling and everything else, I'm not a writer... while everyone else in english comp and creative writing were busy with the next assignment, I was still trying to find art in all of the red circles, lines, X's and check marks on the last assignment paper. Surely there was more there than mere constructive criticism? Haha.
Anyway, about your thread....I guess, depending on how you choose to look at it, I'm either too late, for this Halloween, or too early for next....like 365 days too. Either way.. one is probably about as good (or useless) as the other.
Trunk or treating is the way to go....will keep any unwanted goblins away from your door and you can close the trunk and go home when you've had enough. Trick or treaters just want candy, I really don't think they care where you give it to them.
And...I assumed your original post wasn't just about Halloween anyway but now, after reading the replies, I'm thinking well maybe it is/was?
Thought provoking no doubt....I've never been content just reading a story without reading the story.
Huh?
I figure you, of all people, will know....what I mean.
And the thing you mentioned about giving and not getting back and becoming a little tired/bored thinking you may be wasting your efforts.... for that (thought)... well...psst...I have heard “nothing kills ennui dead better than Pixies”
But, while we are still on Halloween (incase)... some costume ideas... for you... for next time.
Staying with that theme, you could go as “the giving tree” wearing a “I have nothing left to give you” T-shirt.
Or... as the female figure in “Melencolia 1” **…. with a good head start for next year since you'll have to assemble a troupe of astrologers, alchemist, philosophers and theologian to come along and try explain her baggage to the keepers of the candy.
Doubt if anyone would get it?... but at least, while they are scratching their heads, you could make away with all the goodies.
Or, to keep it simple, as the Riddler or the Joker... since, you are (a riddler and a joker). Or at least I think so.
May just be my allegoresis kicking in? If so, just disregard this and have a happy Halloween.
If I am right, about your original post...then all I can say is.. not every onion can be peeled with “Occum's razor”.
and... peeling the layers on that one, in broad daylight, would be.... well.... different... on too many levels.
But anyway, in the meantime ....lay down your candy and step away from the abyss.
At least...you.... put a smile on my face.
Happy Halloween
** "The lie is in our understanding, and darkness is so firmly entrenched in our mind that even our groping will fail"
Albrecht Dürer
Last edited by RicketyTick; 11-01-2014 at 12:12 AM.
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landlover_1 (11-02-2014)
#23
11-02-2014, 09:32 PM
Rhombohedron
Ahhh…. whatever do you mean RT? I do believe your observations are completely unfounded. Like Dürer’s work, I suppose some could speculate that there is a riddle to decode in my posts but perhaps I am nothing more than a girl, sitting on the floor, amongst all of her chaos and clutter, pondering the darkness fully entrenched in her mind.
…..with wings, of course. I’ve always envied those Victoria Secret models. And a Putto.. just because it would make me feel special (in an Enid Strict kind of way).
I realize that many may think the main subject in Dürer’s famous etching is melancholy, but to me she merely looks mad. No, not ‘mad’ as in crazy mad but mad as in slightly angry. A mad, ethereal angel with garlands in her hair. She looks as if she has been waiting a thousand years for something (or someone) to come along and show her the way, waiting so long that the dog is starving to death and has laid down to die. A. very. slow. death.
If only he had an apple to eat…. or perhaps one of those carrots.
And that’s the thing. Shel Silverstein nailed it financially when he wrote ‘The Giving Tree’, although I have mixed feelings about the ending. I don’t know if I’d let someone set their *** on my stump if they had taken me for all I had to give. It wouldn’t matter how long I had known him either. Perhaps Mr. Silverstein should have titled his book ‘The Forgiving Tree’- for that is what the tree did in the end. She forgave all of the boy’s selfish behaviors and let him rest his weary soul on her stump when he aged into a tired old man. Now that’s true, unconditional love. Either that or true stupidity. I haven’t determined which one … yet. The ending of the story suggests that the tree is happy. I’m not so sure…
Is it possible to give and give and give and then give some more and expect nothing in return? I realize that the holiday season is quickly approaching and I have always been one to live by the mantra that it’s better to give than to receive. I get that. But when it comes to human emotions there has to be a limit.
What I am trying to say, and very inarticulately I may add, is that the devil of Ms. Melencholia_1 is in the details. Or in laymen’s terms: Even the grandest project depends on the success of the smallest components. It’s the little things in life that make it grand. A beautiful sunset, a call from a friend, the Northern Lights on a cold winter’s eve, dew on a leaf, powerful whitecaps, a chocolate dipped ice cream cone, the way a friend ‘gets you’ like no one ever has, clean sheets, fuzzy socks, a warm balmy breeze, a baby duck, and the list goes on…
In Dürer's case, the little things are the details most discussed. The ghosts in the polyhedron, the flying bat out of hell, (see? Two days later and we can still talk about Halloween, RT), the misspelling of Melancholia, the Putto, the Angel, the Stone Globe, the ‘dead’ dog, the house, the millstone, the hexagram, the ladder and light, the number 1, the magic square, and the ‘how could you miss it’, not so little, large and in charge ‘rhombohedron.’
We live in a world where the little things really do matter. Each encounter, no matter how brief, is a micro interaction, which makes a deposit or a withdrawal from our rational and emotional subconscious. The sum of these interactions sum up how we feel about a particular person or situation. Little things, Feelings. They influence our everyday behaviors more than we realize.
I live in a cold climate where I am fortunate enough to experience all four seasons. If anyone has kept up with my missives on this forum they would know that I don’t particularly care for winter but I do love the beauty of autumn. Each day when I arrive at work, and walk to the door, I will pick up one colorful, fallen leaf that catches my eye. Some days it may be yellow, the next day orange, yet the next day a brilliant red. Some days I look for a leaf that encompasses all colors of the season and, with my morning cup of tea, it sits on my desk, near my monitor, reminding me of the season yet to come. I have conducted this ritual since childhood. In my younger years it was on a much grander scale, mind you. I would roam around the front garden, hand selecting leaves and present them to my family in one huge, beautiful bouquet. At least to me it was beautiful. Hopefully they thought it was as well.
As the dog in Dürer’s etching represents death, so do the mottled colored leaves that gracefully float off of the giving trees. Both beautiful in their own right, they signify something else that has yet to come. While waiting, waiting, waiting and waiting, Ms. Melencholia_1 cannot see the light radiating in the horizon like an overpowered seasonal affective disorder sunlamp. She is obviously too upset with the waiting to enjoy anything else. The trees, on the other hand, seem to expect and understand this waiting. They shed their beautiful leaves, nurturing the forest and lawns surrounding them, and accept the cycle of life, knowing that they will have more to give the next year when they, themselves, are re-nourished. Part of that re-nourishment, however, (as trees of a civilized neighborhood), consists of tender loving care such as raking, leaf blowing and fertilizing. The wild, untamed trees of the forest and two-track variety are far tougher than their urban transplants and merely need water to exist. Ms. Melencholia_1 definitely looks civilized to me.
Perhaps if Mr. Silverstein had written his book a different way and the tree told the boy ‘no’ when he indirectly asked for her branches to build himself a house, some may have a different outlook on life. How many children in this world were read this bedtime (?!?) story and what message did it portray? Is the idea that we should give and give and give of ourselves again until we have nothing else to give? If the tree was left her branches, she, like the other trees in the forest and neighborhoods, would be able to re-nourish her soul and give more when the boy needed it the most. If he understood this about her, it could be a win/win relationship. You must give back to receive.
I have tried my hardest this past year to decode riddles in both love and living. It hasn’t always been the easiest venture. I have made mistakes, been told that I have made mistakes and have given of myself until I thought I could give no more. In doing so, I have learned a lot about myself, experienced growing pains and let me tell you… it hasn’t all been roses and unicorns. Nope, no unicorns in Dürer’s famous etching but there may be some roses in Ms. Melencholia_1’s garland in her hair. At the moment, it’s hard to tell.
So RicketyTick, if you were right and there were to be a riddle hidden in one of my forum posts, all I can say is this. I love you guys on the forum. I enjoy your banter. It is fun for me, (most of the time) and I have no plans of going anywhere, anytime soon. Besides, I can’t, because that dang rhombohedron is really weighing me down. Seriously.. it’s like an anchor!
…..with wings, of course. I’ve always envied those Victoria Secret models. And a Putto.. just because it would make me feel special (in an Enid Strict kind of way).
I realize that many may think the main subject in Dürer’s famous etching is melancholy, but to me she merely looks mad. No, not ‘mad’ as in crazy mad but mad as in slightly angry. A mad, ethereal angel with garlands in her hair. She looks as if she has been waiting a thousand years for something (or someone) to come along and show her the way, waiting so long that the dog is starving to death and has laid down to die. A. very. slow. death.
If only he had an apple to eat…. or perhaps one of those carrots.
And that’s the thing. Shel Silverstein nailed it financially when he wrote ‘The Giving Tree’, although I have mixed feelings about the ending. I don’t know if I’d let someone set their *** on my stump if they had taken me for all I had to give. It wouldn’t matter how long I had known him either. Perhaps Mr. Silverstein should have titled his book ‘The Forgiving Tree’- for that is what the tree did in the end. She forgave all of the boy’s selfish behaviors and let him rest his weary soul on her stump when he aged into a tired old man. Now that’s true, unconditional love. Either that or true stupidity. I haven’t determined which one … yet. The ending of the story suggests that the tree is happy. I’m not so sure…
Is it possible to give and give and give and then give some more and expect nothing in return? I realize that the holiday season is quickly approaching and I have always been one to live by the mantra that it’s better to give than to receive. I get that. But when it comes to human emotions there has to be a limit.
What I am trying to say, and very inarticulately I may add, is that the devil of Ms. Melencholia_1 is in the details. Or in laymen’s terms: Even the grandest project depends on the success of the smallest components. It’s the little things in life that make it grand. A beautiful sunset, a call from a friend, the Northern Lights on a cold winter’s eve, dew on a leaf, powerful whitecaps, a chocolate dipped ice cream cone, the way a friend ‘gets you’ like no one ever has, clean sheets, fuzzy socks, a warm balmy breeze, a baby duck, and the list goes on…
In Dürer's case, the little things are the details most discussed. The ghosts in the polyhedron, the flying bat out of hell, (see? Two days later and we can still talk about Halloween, RT), the misspelling of Melancholia, the Putto, the Angel, the Stone Globe, the ‘dead’ dog, the house, the millstone, the hexagram, the ladder and light, the number 1, the magic square, and the ‘how could you miss it’, not so little, large and in charge ‘rhombohedron.’
We live in a world where the little things really do matter. Each encounter, no matter how brief, is a micro interaction, which makes a deposit or a withdrawal from our rational and emotional subconscious. The sum of these interactions sum up how we feel about a particular person or situation. Little things, Feelings. They influence our everyday behaviors more than we realize.
I live in a cold climate where I am fortunate enough to experience all four seasons. If anyone has kept up with my missives on this forum they would know that I don’t particularly care for winter but I do love the beauty of autumn. Each day when I arrive at work, and walk to the door, I will pick up one colorful, fallen leaf that catches my eye. Some days it may be yellow, the next day orange, yet the next day a brilliant red. Some days I look for a leaf that encompasses all colors of the season and, with my morning cup of tea, it sits on my desk, near my monitor, reminding me of the season yet to come. I have conducted this ritual since childhood. In my younger years it was on a much grander scale, mind you. I would roam around the front garden, hand selecting leaves and present them to my family in one huge, beautiful bouquet. At least to me it was beautiful. Hopefully they thought it was as well.
As the dog in Dürer’s etching represents death, so do the mottled colored leaves that gracefully float off of the giving trees. Both beautiful in their own right, they signify something else that has yet to come. While waiting, waiting, waiting and waiting, Ms. Melencholia_1 cannot see the light radiating in the horizon like an overpowered seasonal affective disorder sunlamp. She is obviously too upset with the waiting to enjoy anything else. The trees, on the other hand, seem to expect and understand this waiting. They shed their beautiful leaves, nurturing the forest and lawns surrounding them, and accept the cycle of life, knowing that they will have more to give the next year when they, themselves, are re-nourished. Part of that re-nourishment, however, (as trees of a civilized neighborhood), consists of tender loving care such as raking, leaf blowing and fertilizing. The wild, untamed trees of the forest and two-track variety are far tougher than their urban transplants and merely need water to exist. Ms. Melencholia_1 definitely looks civilized to me.
Perhaps if Mr. Silverstein had written his book a different way and the tree told the boy ‘no’ when he indirectly asked for her branches to build himself a house, some may have a different outlook on life. How many children in this world were read this bedtime (?!?) story and what message did it portray? Is the idea that we should give and give and give of ourselves again until we have nothing else to give? If the tree was left her branches, she, like the other trees in the forest and neighborhoods, would be able to re-nourish her soul and give more when the boy needed it the most. If he understood this about her, it could be a win/win relationship. You must give back to receive.
I have tried my hardest this past year to decode riddles in both love and living. It hasn’t always been the easiest venture. I have made mistakes, been told that I have made mistakes and have given of myself until I thought I could give no more. In doing so, I have learned a lot about myself, experienced growing pains and let me tell you… it hasn’t all been roses and unicorns. Nope, no unicorns in Dürer’s famous etching but there may be some roses in Ms. Melencholia_1’s garland in her hair. At the moment, it’s hard to tell.
So RicketyTick, if you were right and there were to be a riddle hidden in one of my forum posts, all I can say is this. I love you guys on the forum. I enjoy your banter. It is fun for me, (most of the time) and I have no plans of going anywhere, anytime soon. Besides, I can’t, because that dang rhombohedron is really weighing me down. Seriously.. it’s like an anchor!
Last edited by landlover_1; 11-02-2014 at 10:12 PM.
#24
11-04-2014, 12:46 PM
Recovery Vehicle
perhaps?
perhaps not?...nothing common about your sense.....a thinker you are... so I wonder.....but if you say so
yeah... I think her weariness turned to anger, she realizes she's been lied to.....about everything...and I mean everything.... not too hard to imagine.... I think the little guy with the melencolia banner missed his cue...that train had already left the station.... but the definition/diagnosis (cause and effect) of melancholia was not the same for mr. d then as it is for us now. So?
...but anyway... I get what she's saying.... but.... not so sure what he's saying with the difference in scale... on your anchor... crystal? (can't see if it's 8 or 9 sided?) maybe to signify it's of greater importance in the mix? and it is closest to the ladder...and between her and the ladder....she'll have to cross that bridge to get to a higher level... of understanding....did he want it to stand above... the other disciplines represented?
anyway.......all this stuff was given to him and he passed it on....i guess to give the thinkers something to think about... or... more to disagree on.
if he had left the banner out...we probably wouldn't be discussing it. So... the banner is important.... that funny little banner.
Trees....leaves......nature....seasons....and.... life... you do allow yourself time for detail....so...you are already. the faster we go the more we miss....which reminds me of an old friend... near a pond and bean-field....who took time... to see.... but that's another story.... and like our girl...ms. pissed....something new every time.
more about the other later...today, I'm on a mission.....junking.....I found a shop that's cracking open crates of antiques...with prices from 40 years ago.
perhaps not?...nothing common about your sense.....a thinker you are... so I wonder.....but if you say so
yeah... I think her weariness turned to anger, she realizes she's been lied to.....about everything...and I mean everything.... not too hard to imagine.... I think the little guy with the melencolia banner missed his cue...that train had already left the station.... but the definition/diagnosis (cause and effect) of melancholia was not the same for mr. d then as it is for us now. So?
...but anyway... I get what she's saying.... but.... not so sure what he's saying with the difference in scale... on your anchor... crystal? (can't see if it's 8 or 9 sided?) maybe to signify it's of greater importance in the mix? and it is closest to the ladder...and between her and the ladder....she'll have to cross that bridge to get to a higher level... of understanding....did he want it to stand above... the other disciplines represented?
anyway.......all this stuff was given to him and he passed it on....i guess to give the thinkers something to think about... or... more to disagree on.
if he had left the banner out...we probably wouldn't be discussing it. So... the banner is important.... that funny little banner.
Trees....leaves......nature....seasons....and.... life... you do allow yourself time for detail....so...you are already. the faster we go the more we miss....which reminds me of an old friend... near a pond and bean-field....who took time... to see.... but that's another story.... and like our girl...ms. pissed....something new every time.
more about the other later...today, I'm on a mission.....junking.....I found a shop that's cracking open crates of antiques...with prices from 40 years ago.
Last edited by RicketyTick; 11-04-2014 at 03:00 PM.
#25
11-04-2014, 04:19 PM
That’s ok, you can tell yourself that I have no common sense if it makes you happy. Because that is what it is all about, right?I don’t need to argue with you..
The funny thing about melancholy is that, although it initially may turn into anger, in the end it eventually leads to apathy, which is a sort of living oblivion.
Anyway, the ladder is another piece of the puzzle. Perhaps Mr. D is just teasing the observer into thinking that there are a finite number of rungs. If Ms. Pissed (off to no belief) decided to climb it she may find that there was no end in sight and that the rungs were actually infinite. Endless. Kind of like that 8 (or is it 9, 10, 11, 12…) sided ‘crystal’ polyhedron. No fun there..
As far as your memories of your woman at the pond and bean-field, please keep it to yourself. Halloween was already scary enough.
Enjoy your junking. If you find a Hekman Spinet Desk – grab it, it’s mine.
The funny thing about melancholy is that, although it initially may turn into anger, in the end it eventually leads to apathy, which is a sort of living oblivion.
Anyway, the ladder is another piece of the puzzle. Perhaps Mr. D is just teasing the observer into thinking that there are a finite number of rungs. If Ms. Pissed (off to no belief) decided to climb it she may find that there was no end in sight and that the rungs were actually infinite. Endless. Kind of like that 8 (or is it 9, 10, 11, 12…) sided ‘crystal’ polyhedron. No fun there..
As far as your memories of your woman at the pond and bean-field, please keep it to yourself. Halloween was already scary enough.
Enjoy your junking. If you find a Hekman Spinet Desk – grab it, it’s mine.
#26
11-04-2014, 05:54 PM
Recovery Vehicle
That's not what I meant at all. I meant your sense is anything but common...more than just. It was intended as a compliment.
and my pond and bean-field were thoreau another observer of nature, like yourself... also a compliment.
sorry if it came across another way. It was hurried.
and the antiques are mostly smalls. sorry.
and my pond and bean-field were thoreau another observer of nature, like yourself... also a compliment.
sorry if it came across another way. It was hurried.
and the antiques are mostly smalls. sorry.
Last edited by RicketyTick; 11-04-2014 at 09:39 PM.
#27
11-04-2014, 10:08 PM
‘The language of friendship is not words but meanings.’ Henry David Thoreau
And I obviously misconstrued the meaning as I only looked at the words. My apologies. Thank you for the compliments. I can get a little touchy when someone mentions my anchor.
So I’m intrigued… did you find any cool smalls? Sounds like a couple of hours in heaven..
I love box lot auctions for that very reason
And I obviously misconstrued the meaning as I only looked at the words. My apologies. Thank you for the compliments. I can get a little touchy when someone mentions my anchor.
So I’m intrigued… did you find any cool smalls? Sounds like a couple of hours in heaven..
I love box lot auctions for that very reason
#28
11-04-2014, 11:57 PM
Recovery Vehicle
No apologies needed.
Just me and my random thoughts in random order again. My internal editor is broken. I wonder sometimes what I'm taking about myself. I open my mouth or mind and out it comes.
That's why I warned you up front that I'm not a writer......like I needed to tell you that.
Anyway, sorry if I hurt your feelings for a minute. If I say anything that doesn't sound right to you, message me and straighten me out... I wouldn't say anything mean to you intentionally. I'm not like that.
No, didn't find much today. I did get some good stuff from her awhile back. Illinois railroad watch, Gorham sterling match safe and a couple first editions. nothing I wanted to keep, but good turnover at a nice profit. Plan to go back tomorrow.
I'll let you know.
Just me and my random thoughts in random order again. My internal editor is broken. I wonder sometimes what I'm taking about myself. I open my mouth or mind and out it comes.
That's why I warned you up front that I'm not a writer......like I needed to tell you that.
Anyway, sorry if I hurt your feelings for a minute. If I say anything that doesn't sound right to you, message me and straighten me out... I wouldn't say anything mean to you intentionally. I'm not like that.
No, didn't find much today. I did get some good stuff from her awhile back. Illinois railroad watch, Gorham sterling match safe and a couple first editions. nothing I wanted to keep, but good turnover at a nice profit. Plan to go back tomorrow.
I'll let you know.
Last edited by RicketyTick; 11-05-2014 at 12:29 AM.
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