(This is an old entry I never actually published. Found it today and - some five months or so late - decided to put it up.)
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Salvete, qui legentes -
Which at this point probably just means ME!
So is this a blog or a diary? Nescio quid, sed Deo gratias quod hoc in loco nil Flammarum Belli pati debeo! Quod sive totus mundus blogum meum frequentarent, nec mihi grave.
Februarius is with us, and last night gave us some REAL WEATHER: thunderstorms, rain-drops big as marbles, a near-horizontal wind up to I-don't-know-how-many miles per hour. It was a full-blown bluster, a soaker of a storm! And it renewed itself again come midnight or so; the thunder was so continuous, extended and crescent; it mounted and mounted in volume -- I thought an airliner was crashing on our house.
Actual thunder. Still something of a novelty for us in the Eastern San Francisco Bay Area.
Valete.
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A Ghostly World in Collision with Yours
- Old Mr. Still Struggling with Ceaseless Chaos
- City: Let's call it "Fingiswold"...., California Franciscensis, United States
I only wish I could, like Beowulf, say:
"Hwæt! þu worn fela, | wine min Unferð,
beore druncen | ymb Brecan spræce,
sægdest from his siðe. | Soð ic talige,
þæt ic merestrengo | maran ahte,
earfeþo on yþum, | ðonne ænig oþer man."
"Ah, you've said quite a bit, my dear Unferth,
drunken with your beer, about Breca,
and laid out his triumph! But I say sooth,
that I owned much more sea-strength,
suffering the waves, than any other man!"
Yet I cannot!
Perhaps, like Epictetus, I may say, of the world and its evils,
"What is that to me? Is it within my control or a matter outside of it? If it is not within my control - and the only thing that is within my control IS my Will - then I shall not fret over it at all, but accept it and apply myself to it as best I may."
For the truth is - these evils are normal, they are natural, they are not (in the end) evil at all, just - consequent; and matters of indifference.
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