disbound, rubbed, worn, cracked soiled, torn, and wrote on, wrote in

Scribbling on scribbled on old book covers.

Miasma Flower of Eye

An amusing ebay listing:

Up for your amusement is this disbound, bad, stained, soiled, heap of crap. It smells of smoke, dead fish, cat pee and who knows what. It would serve as excellent fodder to start your summer campfire or supply your camp outhouse.

If you have millions & are looking for a good investment opportunity then take a look at this!!! All your friends have these rare & pristine books to show off, but YOU will have a one-of-a-kind pile of raggity papers no-one can do a one up (or down) on you with.

BOOK CONDITION: On a scale of one to ten this book doesn’t register. It is disbound, rubbed, worn, shelfworn, sunworn, cracked, cracking, stained, soiled, torn, ripped, dog eared, folded, faded, foxed, browning, wrote on, wrote in, wrote over, wrote off, but hey… you could truly own a one-of-a-kind book!!!!

Yes friend, there is rare art contained within these pages (scribbling, drawing, coloring) duly drawn and preserved in the contents by budding young artists who never made it & are deceased now, their work all but forgotten but for the pages herien. In 2 or 3 hundred years when handwriting is lost art this book will be worth millions!!!

Sounds like my kind of book except for the fishy feline odor.



Signs of Life

I’m still floating in the mist. I think it’s called a brain fog. The signs of life I refer to are (unfortunately) not mine. Not yet. They are outside, here on the coastal homestead among the flora and fauna and wildlife. Spring flowers, mint, oregano, garlic, purslane, parsley, dandelions, sage, spring onions, rhubarb, and asparagus are all peeking up now. My fig tree and wisteria survived the winter and have new buds. There are signs and indications that I will join them soon. Last week began the long slow tease of a spring which never quite arrives. Then it will be summer. We’ll sneak in gardening days whenever the sun miraculously appears or the whip winds of a sudden storm off the Atlantic. I love it though, living and gardening on a cliff by the sea. It’s like resistance training for the spirit.

The compost came out better than I had hoped and there is plenty of it. Rich and black. Nitty gritty down and dirty with the earth is what really wakes me up and gets me going. Solar power also helps. My cozy by the fire evenings and lazy daze of winter woolgathering are over though…until December.

Wild turkey trot through the garden.

Nemo is fascinated.

“Those are the biggest chickens I ever saw!”

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