Sunday Squibs

 

The garden in August reaches perfection. In September it wilts, in October it dries, in November it shatters. In December it's covered in snow and dreams of the Spring.

Those who grew up in the depression became thrifty. 

Those who grew up in the Energy Crisis became lazy. 

I once saw my team, hopelessly down in the ninth, go on to win in the sixteenth. Of course they ended up in the cellar that season, but three cheers for perseverance!

However poorly, ineptly, or noisily done, twenty minutes of meditation every morning is a game changer. 

In its haste to build, the new city wipes away every trace of wilderness. The mature city lets wilderness creep back in. 

Perfection asks us to use its nickname—“Better”

The market hates elders

‘Cause they drive an old car

They want everything cheap 

Blah blah blah blah blah 

Don’t cast your pearls before swine. Give those swine a bucket of slops first, then you can bring out the pearls. 

Since the the solstice we’re losing more light every day 

This can’t be permitted to stand

We’re standing up tall to the boss of the place

But he blows off our line in the sand

FatherSonHolySpirit: one God so they tell

-Best viewed one by one from a slow carousel