17 December 2013

Notes - thoughts / Pouch 8 (final) / carry on

    Carol is off to breakfast with Ann F. and you have an eye appointment in an hour or so. You are thinking this ‘writing experiment’ needs to come to a close, at least online because you are finding you are repeating yourself year after year with little to show for it. – Amorella
         0848 hours. I would have thought that in twenty-five years if I was going discover something about the thoughts that roll about in my head that I would have discovered it. I sail on but the wind is about out of me as far as new thoughts for stories are concerned. I am taking my time retreading the old Merlyn tires. I enjoy it but see no reason to rush as this re-writing and editing gives me pleasure when nothing else is going on. With most people – there is always something coming up or to do or to get done before tomorrow or by the end of the week; we are no different. Retirement is good. We have a good life.
         Yesterday’s post about a new set of headphones pretty much takes the cake as far as redundancy is concerned. The headphones do bring up a consideration though. Sometimes my ears don’t hear as well as they used to. However, with further listening last night, particularly to three segments of music, general blue grass on Get Radio, Traveling Wilbury-like music (station) and Woody Guthrie-like music (station) on Pandora the lyrics had a clarity I had not heard in a long time. Each word was as a piece of crystal. I listened carefully enjoying the instrumentation and the vocal on two levels at once, almost as if I were grading a research paper, following content and grammar on two levels at once (with the grammar aspect of the grade always lagging behind a second or so after the content aspect of the grade. This was quite refreshing. Such wonderful lyrics and music of real life-like stories – human stories versed and packaged (usually) with acoustical background. My ears danced in the common humanities. Refreshment for the soul, that’s what it is.

         This is good to get it off your chest, old man. Now it’s time to focus on the vision. Get cracking, boy. – Post. Amorella


         Later in the afternoon. You watched most of a drama on the Sundance anytime channel. Very good so far, I have to see how it finishes – will she (young English woman) stay with the man she has been living with or go to Italy and live with the man of her dreams, her second cousin who is a geologist who lost his leg while working in South Africa, setting 1958. The title is “Dreaming (Proper Noun)”. Carol arrived. Your sister Cathy called – everyone is getting together on the 29th because Jeffrey will be in town. Jeffrey is Kim’s cousin, your sister, Gretchen’s, son. Presently you are at McD’s on Mason-Montgomery Road watching traffic. Carol had a hot coffee and you had hot chocolate. You are also driving the Honda for a change. - Amorella
         1625 hours. Fuel is $2.99 a gallon. I should fill this up but it only has a little over a hundred miles on it. No problems with my eyes this morning except I have a cataract. It is not time to schedule an operation though. So far, the ophthalmologist says, that my exercises and medicine has kept my eyes from realizing that I have diabetes. Such deceptions. Surely my eyes (being in the brain) realize I am diabetic.
         A stop at Kroger’s on the way home and the cats are being fed and you have the litter stations to clean. Dusk is moving in. – Amorella
         1716 hours. Time for me to work some more on Pouch 8.
         1731 hours. Pouch 8 is completed. It is better than it was, but I’m sure it could be better still.
         Yes, it could. Add and post. – Amorella
***
(final) Diplomatic Pouch 8 ©2013, rho, for GMG.One
            Pyl, Justin and Blake completed their plans for the day. The date could be seen on the front page of the March 1, 2012 Cleveland Plain Dealer located on the breakfast table next to Blake. A little more than a month had gone by since the Carlson sisters attempt to purchase the Williams’ Cessna 210 Silver Eagle. Pyl was reading the local section of the paper; an article about the Chardon School shooting, Justin glanced over the sport's page focusing on the loss of the Cavaliers to the Knicks with the final score, 120 to 103 now that their scheme was set.
            What a weird month, thought Blake. People come in out the blue wanting to buy the plane; we tell them we don't want to sell and they leave without another word. I would have thought they would have at least sent an email thanking us for their afternoon ride to Put-in-Bay and back. Nothing. "I'd like to get some flight time today. The weather is going to be worse with thunderstorms the next couple of days. I can get some instrument time in what with the weather mix and cloud cover." Blake focus on the back page, the weather page which announced that the mostly cloudy sky would produce light snow showers which would change to rain; and that the light west wind would be coming from south instead, giving a high of 42 degrees, even the night temperature was to stay above freezing. Blake surmised in a mumble, “We can take the plane up around noon.”
            "You just want to see the sun, Blakie, not that I blame you," commented Pyl. “Our other plans can wait. It's depressing." I have a pile of clothes to wash, she thought, and added, "I wouldn't mind going along. Do you want to come Justin?"
            "No," sighed Justin. "I'm reading a couple Car and Driver magazines. We've been back up here only a couple of days and I'm getting bored. This weather doesn't help. I'm ready to go home." He thought, I love the Jennifer cookies at On the Rise though. They are always worth the trip up here, and we can take a dozen home with us. With cookies it’s never a completely worthless trip.
            Blake commented, "You'll like the Car and Driver articles on the Shelby and the Viper. You can read them any time. I'm bored too, Justin, that's a good reason to get up above the clouds with us if you like," smiled Blake.
***
             Noon. Ship stirred, and jolted Yermey with a slight shock. "The Cessna is up."
            "Take us to her," grumbled Yermey. His old eyelids stayed sleep shut, resisting the reality of the moment. "Wake up, Friendly."
            "Captain has us already underway."
            "When will we be in contact?"
            "Ten minutes," replied Ship matter-of-factly.
            Yermey slowly stood up then slid himself into a jumpsuit. He rubbed his forehead rather harshly, shook his head to refresh and thought what are we about to do?
            He knew, of course. The three had carefully decided that the next time the plane was in the air they would take the plane into a controlling declared advisement, first by suspending physics and place the plane aboard Ship with the three Earthlings inside.
            Yermey walked into Friendly's control room, said hello, scratched the back of his head, and asked, "How many are aboard?"
            "All three, replied Friendly.
            "Are we really going through this?" asked Hartolite. "Wouldn't it be more polite to first say, hello, again as fellow Earthlings?"
            Suddenly Friendly ordered, "Change circumstance," and Ship froze about half a mile to the starboard side of the Silver Eagle and flying parallel to the Cessna 210 with blackenot on. Less than ten seconds later they were parallel at a quarter mile. "I say we down the plane at a private field in the area and speak them on their own ground."
            Ship, having bio-computerize a virtual Cessna in true environment circumstance internally responded quickly, "A flat and vacant country road four miles south. I can mimic engine trouble. The pilot will have no choice but to land."
            "Good!" said Yermey as he slapped his thigh joyfully. "We wing it."
            "We improvise?" questioned Hartolite. "All of our stratagem, and now we improvise?"
            "Let Ship settle them safely and unaware of our presence. Spontaneity has an open honesty to it. Keep traffic clear, she further ordered. "Land us ten yards from them."
            Ship replied confidently, "As you wish." The three marsupial-humanoids stood with equanimity and watched the maneuvering begin. The first formal contact with Earthlings will begin on a lonely flat township road near an Amish farm in south Ashtabula County northeast of Cleveland.

•••

         You had leftovers for supper and watched last night’s “Major Crimes” and tonight’s “NCIS”. You also cleaned up chapters seven and eight and placed them in the Word Final doc and the Page Final doc. Out of the blue, a moment ago you typed the theme word for chapter nine as ‘opportunity’. I have no objection. – Amorella
         2203 hours. I have not even gone over the chapter Amorella. It was a flash – mind to fingertips.
         The twenty-five year ‘automatic writing experiment’ carries on. Good night, orndorff. Post. – Amorella

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