Longer Blocks …

Today is Saturday, the 18th of July 2020.

Today is BLOGSDAY !!! 

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME !!! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME !!!

It was eleven years ago today I started this BlockBlog about nothing.

18th of July 2009. I was older then because I am aging backwards in time...

Call me Bromford Button…

But that is another story to be told another time...

Those were indeed other times, those times eleven years ago. No llamas in my life. No virus. No social distancing, well only the one on a voluntarily basis. Look where we are now in summer 2020. These are indeed Roaring Twenties.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G. Alphabetic levels in knowledge of the English language. Am I able to express my feelings and wishes and wantings in English? Well, judge and decide for yourselves.

Have a good time when it smells like rain. Fresh laundry smells like love. Cooked cabbage smells like home.

This is also the anniversary of all olfactorial senses.

My train of thoughts went off the rails again. This morning - or better last Tuesday's morning - on my way to wherever my tires might have taken me I had much better thoughts. I was inventing English words then with Eleven, the Elf, watching me from the top of the hill on the horizon.

There is no certainty in uncertain times. A little bit uncertainty in unvcertain times. We need more uncertainty in uncertain times. And we need to notice when to stop a clever metaphore that is not even a good one.

The thoughts were about mathematics and calculations, about birthdays and how one's first birthday is more like the celebration of one year of life because the first birthday is the day you were actually born. But do you celebrate that? That is the starting point. It is not the first birthday. The first birthday is the first celebration of the day you were born. Year zero, so to speak. And what is the difference between birthdays and anniversaries?

Questions, questions, nothing but questions.

Music smells like cookies.

And cheap perfume smells like leather and cookies. But maybe that is sheep perfume. Did you ever smell lanolin or even know what it is?

The wild wine is pouring down the facade of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane like a water fall into the street canyons of Bromford, the friendly town by the shore and seaside. This image smells green and moist.

And do not think you would have no future when there is no paper note inside your fortune cookie.

A Matter of Geography - Wayfarers All ...