I came to this seminar in good time to get a place on the first row, center.
…I always prefer to sit on the best seat be it opera, ballet, Yeti watching or just a domestic dispute…
I made myself comfortable for the next 60 minutes and immediately let deep and sound sleep consume my whole person.
… I never snore – checked against different sources…
So far so good. And my life was indeed heavenly sweet for the first half.
…Säg den lycka som varar…
Then, as usual, some forgetful bum’s phone went all excited somewhere in the bum’s bag’s intestines, which made the lecturer halt his stream of monotonic mumble, which consequently woke me up. My hardened nervous system wouldn’t have any difficulties to swing me back to sleep, but another bum – a very observant one – suddenly asked: “What’s that grey area under the curve?”. And that question put me on the perch straight and alert.
While the lecturer was staring at his graph as if he saw it for the very first time and the merry audience was suggesting solutions borrowed in the number of difference sciences – from landscaping to astrophysics, those oblique rotations in 3D – I recollected
…as a few years ago we used that very screen as a table cloth at a minor celebration when someone in our group published their first article and some clumsy bum spilled a bowl with dressing or the like…
and understood that the mystical “area under the curve” was just an oily spot, that looked grey contraluz.
Ages have passed, but I still consider my greatest contribution to the science that I kept composure until the end of the seminar. Then I went out, hugged a tree and laughed my heart out.
Been and paddled kayak yesterday. Saw a female elk with 2 calves. Totally under impression.
But where is the logic?
Prelude:
The other day I had an exchange here with a younger man from another country:
Him: How are you doing?
Me (thinking “what exactly do people expect as an answer to that kind of questions?”): How am I doing what?
Him: It’s hello in English. I thought that you speak English.
Me (thinking “what led to that conclusion?”): Wrong assumption.
And that innocent remark made him to give birth to a tirade:
Him (verbatim): Well your profile is written in English ??? Am I missing something ? You sound very angry ? Divorced , old alone , your children don’t live with you , you sad ugly withered Old skank, you will never find anyone , enjoy being alone all the remainder of your miserable life , you horrible little woman
Yes, I am little. Never thought that it’s something one has to be ashamed of. Anyway, if my counterpart prefers tall, overweight, perhaps obese women, why did he contact me?
Yes, I am divorced. If my counterpart prefers married women, why did he contact me?
Yes, my child is grown-up and lives on her own. If my counterpart prefers 5 generation living under the same roof, why did he contact me?
Somebody, please, can explain me what is it that I don’t understand in this situation?
In the memory of my dearest…
There was a very little spider in the lower right corner of my kitchen window. It span his tiny net and caught smallest flies appearing from the pots with plants… Once a week, I dusted off his corner with a cloth very carefully, using only my index finger and only when I was sure that you, my darling, had time enough to hide yourself in the window frame.
We lived in harmony.
That was a prelude.
…left my key to my best neighbour when departing for my usual 2-weeks late-autumn sun-holiday and asked her to water my pot-plants. Which she certainly did. The woman is an angel.
Upon returning noticed that my windows were washed. Couldn’t believe my eyes at first, but eventually surrendered to the fact: my windows shone clean! Turned out that the woman liked to wash windows. Indisputably an angel and my appreciation has no limits.
…but my spider was gone.
Now the small flies are flying all over my flat and there’s no one to catch them… And – snow, rain, nearest road – the windows are dirty again.
I hope, my dearest, that your short life in my window corner was happy and plentiful. I miss you so much…
Tulefell Blog (40)