*/huff… These wee… key leaks… /puffs… Clicky, have become… a flood…*
Meanwhile, in keeping the tit-for-tat, ahead of Wiki’s ninth release, overnight the ninth’s Trump accuser came forward, when a Clinton donor claimed the billionaire kissed her on the mouth in front of her shocked family at Mother’s Day lunch at Mar-a-Lago club.
*Past, Clicky. I heard it back in my youthful daze… /:O… Released on 7th September? That’s Thoughtful Man’s birthday! I didn’t know that fact when the Song popped into my head… /thinks… sew this means that information about my past was in my future… /grins sheepishly… I can quite see why you get confused…*
*Whoa! Did you see that?!*
*Where?*
*Ha! An English Garden variety? No I… /squint… knot-eyes the Wooley connection to my PPE… Um, it’s knit and… /mind stutter… wear, ware, where?*
*/sighs… Yes, the original Song, for me anyway, Clicky… For this synchronicity…/thinks… doo–ray–me–far–sew–la–T…qui… malarky. That’s the closest word I can think of to describe it…*
*Indeed… Hey! Today I became the 137th follower of a chap on Twitter… he’s a geodeticamong other things… Could be useful… I just had to look that up… Look, I took a selfie…*
*He’s visited the LoLbefore, Clicky… I don’t know why I didn’t follow him on the Y’elloRiver before…*
*Well, to be fair, that LoL post was inspired my crazy dooshund, rather than a wolf…*
*That’s a bit binary, isn’t it Clicky? What about a grey wolf? Still, Princess Ploppy certainly is well fed… Ah! …/slaps forehead… That’s why the Song popped into my head! I remember… first I was in theBlueUniverse… then paid avisitto the, er,Red…*
*Well, you know that, and I know that, Clicky… /lights umpteenth rollie… Methinks this post is a tad too big… /blows smoke… Shall we leave Dear Reader to it and have a Song?*
*There you are! /taps foot… I got back really quickly. Where have you been, Clicky?
*RedFranks? I left you at BlueFranks… Clicky, dinner is about to arrive and Thoughtful Man and I have ‘Suicide Squad’ to watch… I wanted to write this post before he got home from work… /wrings hands… *
*Chocolate? You think you can get round me with… chocolate? /takes both… Delicious… Damn, did you hear that?*
*That’s Thoughtful Man pulling up now… Okay, Clicky, laters…*
*Oh yeah, fuck… the Debate… That was fucking excellent…*
*Hey! Have you been wearing my Rubedo mask again, Clicky? I was asleep 49 minutes ago… I know, I still have the taste in my mouth… /lights another… Better…*
*Oh yeah, owls… or is that ‘owls?*
*Alright, let me get myself together, Clicky… /yawns… I think I’ll have another coffee… /stop hand sign… It’s okay, darling, I’ll do it…*
*******
Owls, Dear Reader. MEROVEEFrank mentioned owls in his last (sew above)…
… And puzzles and that’s exactly what PetesQuiz wrote about putting ‘the pieces of the jigsaw together’ in the ‘sew below’ at BlueFrank’s follow up to his ‘Defining the Future’ earlier on today…
*I know! How did he know I was going to use from TBBT in this post?!*
Dear Reader, we have a number of owls at the LoL…
OWL One
None of our owls have names. This fella came from the Packer side of the family. It used to be a table lamp; I’m not sure if Grandad bought it or was given it by German POWs in WW2 – he was Captain of a camp in Egypt and was given lots of carvings by prisoners who appreciated his fair and even-handed treatment. But it hasn’t cast light in a long time…
OWL 2 (and friend)
I don’t know where these guys came from, but they look down on me in the Library every day.
OWLS 3
I remember exactly when these fellas arrived. It was the day the boys broke up from school for Christmas. Thoughtful Man and I were waiting in the playground to collect them. Thoughtful Man had gone off with Kit Kat (who was always first out) for a chat with one of the other dads. I was standing aside, stamping my feet and blow out pretend smoke with my frozen, crystalised breath.
Suddenly I spotted Loops’, smiling from ear to ear, rushing toward me. He looked so excited. Then I saw his puffing, red face teacher, plodding along on behind. She was laden with… OMG, what the fuck was she carrying and why is she mouthing ‘I’m so sorry’ in my direction?!
“Mummy! I got you a Christmas present!” Loopy exclaimed, wrapping his little arms around my waist. “Owls!”
*******
*Brilliant! Finished it at last, Clicky… /yawn… I think I’ll slip off to bed for a recharge… Give Dear Reader a Song, please…*
I was formulating a post in my head, when the Okie Texas Devil, Cade, stopped by the Library…
*Funny thing happened when I was searching for the clip, Clicky… I was reminded that Doctor Whowas in ‘Carry On Screaming’…*
*Legs calls him a popinjay, Click, but then Leggy is either No.1 or 13… *
*An Oscar for grouchiness, right… so I think I’ve worked out who are 4, 9, 10, 11, 12 and 13… or one… ish… it’s not easy, you know, Clicky…*
*Tell me about it… / sigh*
Anyhoo… Dear Reader, the rest of the post I was working on was left in reply to Cade’s comment, sew… if your interested, go take a look.
It has been a mystery ever since it was discovered more than fifty years ago, and all good theoretical physicists put this number up on their wall and worry about it.) Immediately you would like to know where this number for a coupling comes from: is it related to pi or perhaps to the base of natural logarithms? Nobody knows. It’s one of the greatest damn mysteries of physics: a magic number that comes to us with no understanding by man. You might say the “hand of God” wrote that number, and “we don’t know how He pushed his pencil.” We know what kind of a dance to do experimentally to measure this number very accurately, but we don’t know what kind of dance to do on the computer to make this number come out, without putting it in secretly!
Written in the sands of time… in which case perhaps god just used a finger?
In July last year, I saw a Shiny Tinman floating by the Bankside…
*Clicky, I walked past him twice; I couldn’t see how he did it… he’s on a hidden seat, supported by the pole and anchored by the base… Leggy explained exactly how it was done on DM but I’m buggered if I can find…
*No, Clicky, DM… Direct Message on Twitter… Although my boss at the time did call me Penfold… I think it was my glasses…*
*Crikey! No, Commish called me Pepper…*
*Yeah, I miss my chats with Commish… Nevermind, what’s done is done…*
*******
The other day Thoughtful Man brought to my attention a post on his FaceArseBook feed: ‘10 Terrifying Toys From the Past‘. Now, if you’re of a nervous disposition, or require a designated ‘safe space’, can I suggest that you refrain from employing Clicky to explore the link, and go find a quiet corner in which to curl up and cry…
So then, creepy and dangerous toys that were given to children by adults. A couple caught my eye, although all of them sync…
*A shambles… /waits… Clicky, I said shambles… Oh for god’s sake! Get over here and dry your eyes…*
*Hmm, I wonder if Mike Myers once got a Hugo for Christmas…*
A live bird automata…
*No, Clicky, that’s a man in a bird suit…*
And, syncing with Red Frank’s latest post on MEROVEE…
*Actually, Clicky, No.10 the guillotine toy is sort of Frankish what with it being inspired by the French Revolution… And it was named after a doctor… /grins… Ha! Did you see the the fall…*
Last night I read a post of Cade’s at Sync Miss For Him. One in which he used his formula, and it got me thinking of Helen Keller and how she was taught to write…
In 1886, Keller’s mother, inspired by an account in Charles Dickens’ American Notes of the successful education of another deaf and blind woman, Laura Bridgman, dispatched young Helen, accompanied by her father, to seek out physician J. Julian Chisolm, an eye, ear, nose, and throat specialist in Baltimore, for advice. Chisholm referred the Kellers to Alexander Graham Bell, who was working with deaf children at the time. Bell advised them to contact the Perkins Institute for the Blind, the school where Bridgman had been educated, which was then located in South Boston. Michael Anagnos, the school’s director, asked 20-year-old former student Anne Sullivan, herself visually impaired, to become Keller’s instructor. It was the beginning of a 49-year-long relationship during which Sullivan evolved into Keller’s governess and eventually her companion.
Anne Sullivan arrived at Keller’s house in March 1887, and immediately began to teach Helen to communicate by spelling words into her hand, beginning with “d-o-l-l” for the doll that she had brought Keller as a present. Keller was frustrated, at first, because she did not understand that every object had a word uniquely identifying it. In fact, when Sullivan was trying to teach Keller the word for “mug”, Keller became so frustrated she broke the mug.Keller’s big breakthrough in communication came the next month, when she realized that the motions her teacher was making on the palm of her hand, while running cool water over her other hand, symbolized the idea of “water”; she then nearly exhausted Sullivan demanding the names of all the other familiar objects in her world.
And speak…
To communicate. I have no idea if that was Cade’s intention but that’s what it did for…
I didn’t turn round to answer Thoughtful Man as I was trying not to lose focus. “Taking photos.”
“No, I can see that,” he said with his usual air of exasperation. “What are you photographing and why?”
“Oh, it’s a sweetie present Poppy sent me,” I said. “It’s for a LoL post.”
“What?” he asked with his usual air of confusion. “Da baby leaves us presents but they ain’t so sweet,” he continued in a baby sing-song voice.
Now I was confused so turned round to see him holding our darling dooshund, Poppy. He was obviously addressing her with the cutesy tone. She could obviously smell something tasty, as she was attempting to dig her way out from under his arm to get to me.
“Ah, not Popstar here, Leggy’s girlfriend Poppy from Denmark… she’s sent me some Spunk. Would you like to try some?” I asked innocently.
“No thanks,” he said wrinkling his nose. “Spunk? Have you tried them yet?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
I adopted a serious expression. “Well, they’re hard jellies. The fruity flavoured ones are nice but got stuck in my throat. I’m afraid I spat the salty liquorice one out,” I reported.
Thoughtful Man looked at me intently. “So you both spit and swallow Spunk,” he said slowly, “and you’re going to tell everyone this in a post?”
“Yes,” I said with a vigorous nod. “She also sent me some pipes in a handy travel pack.”
“Oh for god’s sake,” he sighed with his usual air of weariness, turning to leave with the pooch. “Ploppy and I are off the bed. Have fun with your sex and smoking whatever…”
*******
I also received an image of a book this morning, from MEROVEEFrank…
*I saw that, Clicky… the Librarianhas an understanding of the power of L-Space…*
‘prestigious (adj.)1540s, “practicing illusion or magic, deceptive,” from Latin praestigious “full of tricks,” from praestigiae “juggler’s tricks,” probably altered by dissimilation from praestrigiae, from praestringere “to blind, blindfold, dazzle,” from prae “before” (see pre-) + stringere “to tie or bind” (see strain (v.)). Derogatory until 19c.; meaning “having dazzling influence” is attested from 1913 (see prestige). Related: Prestigiously; prestigiousness.’
“Wake up!” said voice and hand in perfect synchronicity. The former, gruffly, and the latter shakily.
“Wha…I’m not sleeping,” I stated, less than convincingly. “I’m listening with my eyes shut.”
Thoughtful Man and I were watching ‘X Men Apocalypse‘. Well, he was, I’d fallen asleep.
“You were bloody snoring.” He turned round to look at me. “You and the pup in harmony. It was more entertaining than that pile of crap.”
I shift up into a sitting position, careful not to disturb the snoozing dachshund by my side She looked so peaceful lying under the quilt, with just her head poking out, resting on my pillow. Like a human.
“No good?” I yawned.
Thoughtful Man looked at me. “You’re the one that fell asleep, you tell me,” he drawled.
I lent over and plucked a rollie from the box of home-mades on the bed. “At least you managed to stay awake,” I said lighting it.
“My eyelids did flutter for a bit,” he said turning his attention back to the tv. “But you and Poppy kept me awake. The boys are bathed and in bed, by the way.”
I kissed the top of his head, picked up my iPad and clocked the time. Still earlyish; I started idling through my emails.
“Ooh, ‘Young Ones’!” Thoughtful Man cried out and stopped clicking the remote. He faced me again, this time with screwed up his eyes, “I know this one… first season, last episode. ‘Flood’.”
Even though we’d caught the programme near the end, he still got it. And so we watched the seminal comedy of our youth, and oh how I LOLled…
*Enjoy that did you, Clicky? That Foamy, what a wheeze… do you want to carry on with what you were doing now? You’re doing a bang up job… /raises thumbs…*
*******
*… /waits… Is that it? Anymore? …/squints… *
Many apols, Dear Reader. On behalf of Clicky and I, please accept a Song…
From the Old Lady of Threadneedle street – the UK has a brand new fiver. It’s still blue 😉 Thoughtful Man got one last night whilst out working, and showed it to me this morning. It’s shiny and can survive a battering…
*What? …/innocent face*
Mrs Reign one side, smoker Winnie on t’other… see-through window…
*Saturn 5… I guess Big Ben does look a bit like a rocket, Clicky…*
