A Day in the Life...

...of a Canadian Goose, separated from the flock, honking forlornly...

...would be...

...not as interesting as one might think.

Unless...

...umm....

...I'll come back to that.

In other news, Mom just stuck a banana in my ear. Literally. She threatened to, and I told her she was always threatening things like that, so she actually did it. It was...squishy. We have what one might term a 'strange and wonderful' relationship. That is, it's so strange it makes you wonder...

...what that chicken's doing on the porch, anyway.

Hmm. This seems to be a rather fowl blog. Better than a waterfowl blog, I suppose, but half of it sort of is (the goose half; chickens don't swim that I know of), except that I see geese on the ground more often than in the water. Whatever gave God the idea for a floating bird, anyway? Huh. Pretty cool. DO chickens float? What happens when they're immersed in water? Do they sink, or swim? I would assume they flap violently and cluck a lot...How did I get off on this, anyway?

Ah. It would be MORE interesting than one might think, if the Goose had an imagination. Some of them seem to--more than is good for them. And others are voracious readers, so it doesn't matter all that much, really, whether the Goose has a flock or a herd or not, because regardless, if it's a literate Goose, it...umm...might as well stop reading now, as I have no idea what I'm talking about, and it might start getting Ideas. Like, for example, it might start thinking I'm insane and have no idea what I'm talking about and I just keep talking because I have nothing to say, and besides, I can't hear you. There's a banana in my ear.

It was kind of slimy, too.

New Information?

I have been informed that I should post a new blog. I have further been informed that I should discuss philosophical insanity, basing my views (or lack thereof) upon my recently-overheard discussion [mostly with myself, except that others were present] of toes and bannisters. However doubtful it may appear to the uninformed, these two things were not connected, except insofar as they happened to be discussed in sequence. The only link was that I was discussing both of them.

However.

This seems to me to be a more than usually unentertaining topic, and I would find it much more amusifying in my current frame of mynde to randomly generate words which make spell-check have a fit.

Therefore.

Thee reyst uv thees blogg shall bordyr onn eencomprehenshibul.

Perhaps.

Never mind. Instead I'll describe my surroundings, and see what comes of it.

Just to my left, there is a tower. It is a relatively small tower, but a lot seems to be going on inside. Outside, too, for that matter. That's too confusing, so for now I'll stay inside. The posts are grey; there are strange tiles on the floor; a grinning skull is set up on a strange sort of altar and crowned with what appears to be a yellow topaz. A black thing I am incapable of identifying hangs down from the ceiling, interfering with passage into the tower, which seems to be only accessible by a wooden hanging bridge. The rocks beyond the tower, as well as those that make up its base, are white. Outside the tower, another skull is displayed, this one with flames shooting up from its head. I'm afraid I fail to grasp the significance of this, so I will move on.

Apparently the green pig to the left of the tower is a bit nervous about his predicament. He is eying the tower in a good-naturedly askance sort of way.

Much farther on, a cat sits in a garden path, his back to me, enjoying what looks like spring. He doesn't seem to realize that if he continues forward, he will eventually stumble upon a highly literate dragon poring over his library.

To my right, a silver castle manages to somehow look homey. It seems a cozy place to spend a winter evening. I wonder if they allow strangers?

I pause and look up, and am swallowed by the Greater Orion Nebula in all its fantastic glory. Clouds of strange gasses swirl around me, light emanates from odd directions, and nothing is as it seems. What kind of God is this, who creates reaches of space so vast they can never be explored, and so mysterious that even if they were examined, they could not be understood? A great God. An awesome God.

Farther to the right, beyond the silver castle, lie purple and black hills. They are soft, but bear a strange resemblance to half an octopus. They are followed by a steep grey-white slope down to the safe green...earth? Hmm. I suppose you could call it that.

And not much came of that, either. Well. That'll teach me to pontificate when I have nothing worth pontificatifying. Or perhaps simply pontifying; I don't know. Is there a pont to all this pointification? I shall content myself by assuming not.

Perfectly Normal

I just informed my sister I'd decided I was insane.
"You're always deciding you're insane," she said.
Oh. Never mind then. I guess the next step is to decide not to mind that I'm insane.

See, the real problem is that there are just so many of me to keep track of. I don't think it can be done, honestly. Especially when they all decide individually and in completely different time continuums (that should be continui) that they're insane.

There are a lot of things that can't be done, though. And most of them have been done, at some point or another. Variety is the spice of life, right? That must be why there's nothing new under the sun. I wonder if there's anything new over the sun? There's something over the rainbow, but I forget what. Perhaps it was Somewhere. Next time I'm looking for Somewhere, I'll look there.

Where do you find rainbows when you need them? The last one I found was when I was looking for a willow tree. So I guess the next time I need to find Somewhere, I should start looking for a willow tree. I don't know what to do if I want to get Somewhere, though. Or Anywhere, for that matter. Am I getting Anywhere? Maybe for Christmas. Enough already. Good night. Except it's morning, so whatever.

I suppose you think it's easy...

...But have you ever tried to milk a mountain goat? I thought so. I tell you, it can't be done. And if you've tried it, you know what I'm talking about. If you've succeeded, then I want to talk to you. Why? So I can tell you you're crazy; you're wasting your time. You'll never get Anywhere Important. And that's all that matters, right? Getting Somewhere Important.

That reminds me: I was in the hall the other day, and I ran into a bookcase. Actually, that was about 10 minutes ago. There wasn't always a bookcase in the hallway, but in this house they multiply like rabbits. I don't think it plans on staying there. At least, I hope it doesn't since it's black and dark is black, and I can't see black in the dark. Generally I can't see much of anything in the dark. Perhaps it's really fire-engine red and only pretending to be black? If those are my choices, I'd much prefer that it be black.

So anyway, after the bookcase attacked me, I forgave it and continued on my way. Because I am a very forgiving person, and there was still room to get around it and into the kitchen. The kitchen is usually the goal. That's because there are bagels in the kitchen. Or there were. I ate them. Not quite all of them yet, but give me a couple days. The problem is, that's all I eat, and we're running low on cream cheese, which is the reason I eat bagels at all, and...well, sadly, the cream cheese is not made with goat milk. What do you expect from me when the mountain goats won't stand still? Sheesh. People these days.

Nothing to Say

Some people might think that having nothing to talk about is a huge drawback. It's actually a benefit. When you don't already have a specific thought taking up all your attention, you are free to wander wherever you please. So whither wander I today? I wonder whether I wander whither something strange might happen? Well, that sentence did, and that was fairly strange...but not as strange as some I've seen. I'll spare you for now, since I'm feeling generous.

It's rather dark in here. But that's what happens when you turn off all the lights. I mean, that's what's always happened before, and it seems to still work that way. Yes, I should be sleeping. Get over it, already.

Once upon a time, there was a young man who left his home to seek his fortune. He didn't have as many adventures as he hoped, but the ones he did have were mostly full of boring technicalities. He finally gave up the life of an adventurer and built an inn on the side of a mountain. It was a strange location for an inn, and everyone said so. But as it turned out, he had a fair number of guests, so perhaps his judgment wasn't so bad after all. The Inn turned out to be quite an exciting place...more things happened in the main room of the Inn than had ever happened to the Innkeeper in all his wanderings beforehand.

The Innkeeper figures no more in this story at present, but we shall meet him again later, perhaps.