Ommmmm

The midpoint of the first month is reached. Time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin’. Into the future? Well, it doesn’t exist, wherever it goes. The only real is now—even if most of the time-words refer to anything but the zero-point-moment. The instant is necessarily wordless. Ommmmm.

I enjoy the aesthetics of the big power sculptures that BPA and other transmission entities put up, many on public parklands. Or it’s the reverse actually. The powerline easements beget public lands in many cases. Much of our local Ridgeline Trail land has its existence because electricity transport originally necessitated the takeover of long strips of land. Few people want to live or farm under or near sizzling and crackling cables suspended high overhead, so lots of adjacent properties are ceded to the public for wildlands. I’m speculating. I have no referenced facts. It’s a good story in my head. It might be true. No fact-checkers were harmed (or indeed used) during the making of this blog entry.

We visit the surgeon today to consult about and set up Mrs. Random’s mastectomy. Hashtags #terrifying and #gitRdone.