Dad’s taxi duties continue unabated, 10 hours of it today! In stationary minutes, I did read a few things, including applying a note-taking technique that Martin Weber shared, one inspired by Vera Birkenhal, to the book "The Upside of Uncertainty" by Nathan Furr & Samantha Furr. I’ve done the first reading of the book I’ll write up both the notes and my experience of this technique soon.
(I’ve not watched this yet) Masterclass Live with Dan Brown promises another writing structure that has sold stories like ‘hot cakes’ as the late George Carlin would mock 🙂
Mr. Fulghum in full flight of the imagination. I’m saving this text here because his blog now only retains 3 recent posts.
Out walking in the windy rainy twilight before supper this evening, I collected a bouquet of fresh fallen leaves. I like autumn leaves and the ways deciduous trees go about their business. Suppose people could do the same thing every fall. Hair would slowly turn shades of yellow and orange and red. (We would let our hair grow long at this season to show as much color as possible.) Imagine the conversations: “Your oranges are very sharp this year.” “That’s a nice shade of yellow you’ve grown.” Then, little by little, like the leaves, the hair would fall out. Not to worry – it would quickly begin to grow in again – just as the buds of new leaves are already there on the trees right behind the loss of leaves. “But we’d be bald,” you protest. Not for long, and bald is beautiful – sometimes. It is the absence of something that makes the presence of something a matter of delight. For one thing, we would have an annual Hat Season – caps and scarves and hats of all kinds for indoors and out. And after that, Surprise Season, as our hair grew back – always in some strong new shade of natural. Or, through vitamins _(fertilizer)_ we might be able to opt for some other color for spring. I would try green one year – just to make it clear I was still alive and still growing. In the trees now clean of leaves, the empty nests of birds are visible. One nest had been blown down by the wind. On examination, I was surprised to find quite a few long strands of human hair woven into it. Given the tensile strength of human hair, I would say the bird had a good idea for nest construction. Perhaps, when I clean out the hair from my brush, I should put the hair out near a bird feeder or birdbath come spring for the birds to use. I like the thought of my hair being woven into a nest way up in a tree. Imagine, then, if our hair turned yellow and orange and red in the fall – and we put some out for the birds in spring – there would be these beautiful nests made – which we could then harvest in the fall and wear as hats while our hair grew back. Fall-ing Hair. Poetic recycling.
Bob Ewing shares the stages of public speaking success in The Arc of Progress as ‘Disappointment’ > ‘Breakthrough’ > ‘Delight’. Once we start practicing something we tend to expect a payoff right away.
When nothing seems to help, I go and look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that last blow that did it – but all that had gone before. – Jacob Rils
Didn’t think this was possible but it was! Tom Petty & Chuck Berry rock and roll with Memphis & Roll Over Beethoven!