Blog

You’re sitting on your back deck. It’s mid-morning in late Spring. You have your coffee in hand and the local paper on your lap. You’re looking out over the back 40. You decided not to plant corn on this parcel to let the soil recuperate a bit.

In numbers, there lies a beauty profound, In spirals, this beauty is perfectly wound. From sunflower fields to the galaxies’ twirl, The spiral is nature’s own charming whirl.

I started a book club along with my buddy Brian. Years back I was originally involved with a blog called Quincy Writers Group with some local writers. The new blog is called Reading, Writing and Arithmetic Club. We are readers and writers and people who have a fascination with numbers and images (although this isn’t required to be a part of the group). We want to read good books and get together to discuss them. We also want to write essays, poems and just about anything. Some of us love numbers and like to write code to generate pictures and maybe write about that too!

Out in some math-born corner of the void, the Blobs float. They spin. Pulse. Change color like they’re listening to music only they can hear.

There once was a little black dog named Beatrice who had spent most of her life living in a shelter. She was a sweet and gentle dog, but unfortunately, no one had ever come to adopt her.

I’ve been wanting to go biking for weeks, but the weather has beaten us back to the interior of the house. Until today. Sunny but chilly, I took advantage of the break in the weather. The next 5 days look awful for biking, so it had to be today. 

We’re Dog On It, Johny McDonald, Ken Cawley, and myself. And we’ve been asked to play at the Drunk Brush on Fridays recently. Some good ol’ fun going on! Trying new stuff, new sounds as well as some old ones, of course. Why Dog On It? Because between Johny and I, we own 7 dogs.

I asked ChatGTP and DALL-E to generate a story and illustration about an old man being grumpy about it being too cold and snowy to go out and ride his bike.

It’s totally my fault for not buttoning up the house. I have several places where any critter can get access to the crawl space. So, they’ve moved in whoever they are, and BB is going crazy trying to figure out who/what it is. I think she is worried they may make their way inside.

Outside my front door. I guess it’s not summer anymore. The once-endless days of sunshine and warmth have given way to a cool, crisp breeze and the changing colors of the leaves. The air is filled with the aroma of burning wood and the distant sound of geese flying south.