Office still life

The face of the house across is brightened to a stark near-white by the sun coming in from the southeast.

Yes, it's that house with the leisure area on the garage, the terracotta pot array supplemented by three bright green plastic watering cans.

There's a bright red Fiat Cinquecento on the window sill.

If I crane my neck, I can see some bright red flowers on corn stalks.

Corn stalks?

– Len B.

An orange nudge

I don't think the weather knows about the forecast.

– Len the Weatherman

It's true; it was supposed to be bright and warm today (and was preparing to be until 10 minutes ago), but now it's greying in, and I can even hear distant thunder in my imagination.

It's lunch time ...

and I'd rather be across the street where, on the garage roof, there is a cozy arbor with a comfortable-looking white plastic table and chair set among terracotta pots with various flowers and plants, including, as far as I can tell without binoculars, bamboo and pink hortensias.

It's a still life. Nothing moves over there, unless you count a slight tremble of leaves from barely noticeable air movement.

There are voices through the connecting door from the office next to mine.

I am in two worlds.

CB, Tolstoy and bottle rumor and sigh

While Charles Bukowski said that great literature,
like Tolstoy's "War & Peace," bored him and lacked that
something special he was looking for, that moxie (?!?),
it could be surmised, based on some known facts
about CB, that plain and simple bottles held a lot of that
something special. Alas: to each his own. May God
give us poor poets moxie.

Listen to CB ramble off his scatological gospel:

The final there's nothing to say fib

When
there
is noth-
ing to say,
there is nothing to
say, and that's final. That's it.

– L. Blumfeld

Need I say more?

Do not try at home

But will it blend? That is the question.

See for yourself what the smoothie button did to an innocent I-Phone.


Isn't the networking among employees of a big corporation amazing? This video was shown to me by a colleague, who had it from another colleague, who probably had it from another one, etc.

Latest blabla from the life front

• It is stiflingly hot in this office,
• despite two fans working away
• under the desk.
• The blinds are down,
• keeping glare out.
• I had too much coffee today,
• my head is under pressure.
• My back's had about all the sitting it can take.
• I should report this to somebody.
• Ha! Many such things would have to be reported.

It could be worse - it could be like this.

Bengali literature

Bhaswati Ghosh has a series of highly recommendable posts on/with Bengali literature in her At Home, Writing blog. The majority of the texts posted are in her own translation from Bengali.

Don't let the sun ...

"Hey!
The
sun's out."
"Quick – catch it
before it conceals
itself again." Alas, my net
failed. Big yellow slipped
through the mesh.
Some warmth
lin-
gers.

– Len B.

It's been difficult to catch a glimpse of sun this cold, rainy July...

This poem is a poetified retelling of what happened this morning.

Later on, under the shower, I tried to think of songs having to do with the sun, and came up with the Beatles' "Here comes the sun" and "Don't let the sun catch you crying" (don't know who did that first, but I like the live version by Rickie Lee Jones).

Technical note: For some reason Blogger won't let me enter a title in Firefox. In IE, however, it is possible. All in all, I'm still struggling with IE 7. Who told Microsoft anybody wanted it this way?

114 days in captivity

He
was
held for
one hundred
and fourteen days by
people who would now and then say
that they might kill him. "It was hard
to imagine going
back to nor-
mal life
a-
gain."

– L. Blumfeld

Note
Today, journalist Alan Johnston was released after almost four months in captivity by the Army of Islam. This seems largely due to mounting pressure exerted on this extremist clan by Hamas.
The 2nd part of this fib is a quote from Alan Johnston after he was freed.