Curious plodding ponderer

Yeah, I’m still alive and well, or so it seems, given my operation of this sophisticated piece of machinery, two moving parts. The small ball swirling at the end of the plastic tube full of ink moves nearly constantly in the hand of a decent writer, one who usually has a few words out, already thought, at the beginning of a sentence. The ball stops when the mind stops, to either consider the next best word, or maybe a whole new twist to the plot. Each consideration deserves its own mental slot.

Who knows, in the future a thought may find a spot, so keeping fit enough to recall the past is worth a shot! Sometimes you can get on a roll, and get real hot! Who knows, something real creative may come out of our mental ink blot. Maybe our minds can think faster than a sloth. Our minds should be as fine-tuned as a jeweler’s polishing cloth, so we can polish a policy without the fear of getting shot, in the ear or any other particular spot!

Oh no, now my pen is moving like an artificial person has taken control, like a digital dynamic crept into my cranium, like dental floss! Something is trying to sharpen my mind into a fine shiny gloss! See, sometimes a real sharp human can hum a tune, act like a goofy goon, balance on their nose a spoon, spawn a yarn before noon, and show no loss! No, you have to be much more active than a downed log covered with moss.

We have to learn how to manage the Salish Sea and its regular, yet irregular, Slosh! Maybe there’s someone in our community who has a history of studying our shores, our soils, and their threatened loss? Perhaps such a person could be recruited to fill a spot on the Emergency Management Commission? The second moving part of the pen is the clicker, by gosh!

Sloughmander

aka Glen Johnson

Skagit Valley