And....not at all clear. That is, this won't be, meaning this post. Communication is often a Pyrrhic experience for me (I won't say a Pyrrhic victory because usually it is not, because the message dies as I word-flounder...now a thing (word-floundering). Aaaaanyways, inspired by Lent, continued indefinitely...that's the goal with this blog. Meaning that I will have a heart to heart with this machine on my lap as a way of repenting? Not actually. This is a disgustingly flippant start to what may be a good project but this is what I ACTUALLY mean. Instead of opening one million tabs as soon as I go on my laptop and wasting oodles of time, I want to try to be more generative with my time on the Internet. So for Lent, I will only do e-mail and schoolwork on line, and instead of waste time I will streamofconsciousness on this blog. Mayhaps it will be good for me, mayhaps not. Mayhaps.
So! I am going to write about the minutiae, and hopefully it will be an interesting thought-catalogue, to do list, and self reflection thingamahoojjy.
It may also turn into a laugh-a-minute comedy routine if life continues in the way it has. February must retire quietly to the home of all Februaries, where they plan their confused weather and the dazed confusion they will bring on the human race. Life was all well, things continued on the normal trajectory of what is called everyday existence and then with a sudden shooting turn, the Enwrights careened down a rabbit hole. On Sunday, my dad dropped my mom at a baby shower and then in five minutes, Lady Driver crashed into the side of the car and my dad spun into a convenient snow drift, was fine, realized the car was totalled, that my mom was still alive (since she was not there) and that his life should be spent indoors knitting. Then throughout the week he attempted to do just that, I stumbled to various job interviews and then this morning our fumble back to normal came to a blunt stop. Our cat commited suicide on a driveway marker. Not joking, not even trying to make this entertaining. It plummeted off the shed roof and impaled itself on a driveway marker. Father (long suffering) lifted said cat off of drive way marker, brought it to the vet, and did not 1. put it down, 2. pay for surgery. No, none of those things. Instead, he signed adoption papers to the vet who adopted it out of human or should I say fellow-mammalian kindness. We are in shock, to a man. Or at least, I feel we should be. The other cat plays with paper on the floor, the yet other cat sleeps and may die because she is of indeterminate age. This was today. What is the take-away? The day is not over but my first blog-post is. The end. Finis. Good-bye.