Notes - OS X.7 Lion / freedom is a hard nut to crack / a free man

         Almost noon. You spent the morning dusting and generally cleaning up downstairs though you have the living room and staircase to go. You also loaded OS X 10.7 Lion and played with the FaceTime feature with Jim Powers being the first one to contact you with video. You are excited because this will also work with Kim and Paul on her MBP or their iPhones so you can see Owen when you chat. Very hot outside with a heat warning for the day for all of Ohio.

         The new OS appears to be working fine. It is noticeably faster. I lost the “Stuff It” and M-W Dictionary software but gained the American Oxford Dictionary instead so I gained on the deal. It will take a while to learn how to use the OS with automaticity, at least the new functions. What a better way to spend thirty dollars, none, at least for me. I already paid Carol the money for the general fund.

         Relax and work on cleanup and experimenting with the new OS. You will find it quite helpful. Post. – Amorella.

         How can you say this?

         You read about the delights of Lion some time ago. I was reading too, especially about material that relates to writing. I know for a fact you have always liked the American-Oxford dictionary best, and you have two paperback copies, one really worn from the 1980’s.  

         Yes, I do. More words and better definitions. I will have to buy a new Stuff It program though. The main thing is that Microsoft Office works. I was worried it was too outdated as it is the 2008 version.

         Late afternoon. You and Carol had a late lunch at Chipotle/Panera and children’s desserts at Graeter’s. You talked to Kim about FaceTime; she has to upgrade. Your former student, Dr. Zach Moore (microbiologist) wrote a note and said you ought to get on the Google (Huddle) (like FaceTime only better according to Zach). He also was the one who convinced you to sign on to Facebook a couple of years ago. He is also the only one who has ever written reviews of your books. (Bless his heartansoulanmind.) – Amorella.

         I didn’t think Facebook was a very good idea at the time (mainly due to my shyness). Little did I know. – You can say “Bless his heart”(?). I am surprised. It popped into mind but I thought it was me who thought it, yet you signed your name.

         You did think (Bless his pea-pickin’ heart). I suppose you were thinking of late singer, Tennessee Ernie Ford. Anyway, I changed it and signed because Zach has been very kind to you. Why not a blessing? – Amorella.

         Somehow, that doesn’t seem apropos. It is a figure of speech, and perhaps I am being too literal here, but I think only G---D can bless someone, and that has to be in private, or rather, it seems to me it should be in private. I said it for Zach sincerely, but as a figure of speech. No one should ever speak for G---D. Let G---D do HeranHis own speaking or whispering or whatever. It doesn’t seem morally right to bless someone, not literally. Internally, this is very upsetting and confusing to me. I would just as soon erase this and let it go.

         Your honesty won’t allow that. Otherwise, though, you are very arrogant using should or ought with reference to G---D even if you are an agnostic. You know this, boy, so why did you bring it up? – Amorella.

         It makes me uncomfortable. I am not here to do your bidding whoever you are. I have my conscience and my free will and I am using them. I don’t want anyone blessed because heorher has been kind to me. Even the thought is abhorrent. This is way out of hand and I am going to stop now. – rho

         Post. – Amorella.

         You have to be kidding. I am not going to post this. I’ll write it for the record but I am not posting. – rho

         Your anger is genuine, boy. Authenticity, remember? Warts and all? Sometimes you are too literal and it gets you into trouble. It invites a strong sense of pride that blinds you (and other people) into a stubborn, solitary cell, at least in these books. The soul imprisons you for your own self protection. “Do no harm” is one of your watchwords. For you, being transparent is like being the air, and you are freer. Without this freedom you cannot write. Post. – Amorella. 

          Everyone pays the Piper one way or another, but I don't have to like it. 

          We all pay, boy. Never forget that. - Amorella. 

       The anger has subsided. I had an errand to run and we have a bit more of the house to clean before tomorrow afternoon. Besides, we have packing as we are leaving early in the AM on Sunday because the girls want to do some shopping in Pigeon Forge. It ought to be a good drive; I am looking forward to that. Anger takes too much energy. It distracts from thinking and wondering creatively. Sometimes I would like to be “as the air”. You know how to hit home, Amorella.

         Boy, I have seen you angry enough inside to take on G---D one to one. An honest anger. – Amorella.

         I learned from that episode, I learned heartansoulanmind. Such anger. Misplaced anger.

         Not in the circumstance, my man. Not in the circumstance. No more tonight. Post. – Amorella.

         I am a free man where it counts most.

         No question about it, boy. – Amorella.

Notes - Laurel&Hardy / relationships are politics in here

         Mid-morning. Breakfast and the paper. You mowed the front yard for forty minutes and have the “sunny” part completed while it was eighty degrees. Going up to ninety-seven degrees today. The rest you and Carol will mow when there is shade.

         Last night just before sleep you began laughing to yourself about the lightning strike. On the ride home yesterday you asked Carol what she did when it hit. She said she jumped out of bed immediately. Turns out that is exactly what Paul and Kim said they did. You were imagining the motions and the looks on their faces and would have loved to see it as if it were a practical joke.

         It still brings a smile to my face. It would have been very funny to see I’m sure. Owen never woke up. In hindsight, I suppose I should have gotten up. The alarm going off and all the commotion, but I just stretched and rubbed my right arm a few times and went back to sleep even before Carol climbed back into bed. I thought about the event for a few minutes last night and wondered why it didn’t effect me so much, then I came up with the strange notion that I’ve been in worse, more dire situations, but I really haven’t except for the Grand Canyon experience. I guess I attribute it to low blood sugar or laziness. The key was that nobody rushed for Owen to get him out of the house, and the lightning had already struck so there wasn’t much anyone could do about it besides shut off the fire alarm (which Paul said had never gone off before). The whole incident would have made a good Laurel and Hardy movie. It would have even been funny as an old silent movie. I figure it must have been low blood sugar rather than laziness, though laziness contributed to not getting up to the post strike commotion. I think I need a nap.

         Post. Later, dude. – Amorella.

Twenty hundred and ten hours. You just finished the north side of the yard, the only part left is the hilly southwest and Carol will mow it tomorrow. Since three and half hours ago, you have been downloading OS X Lion. Even with the highest speed Internet available in Cincinnati it took over an hour, yours is the lowest Time-Warner Road Runner high speed because you don’t want to pay more. Late lunch at Penn Station and half a peanut butter, honey and raisin sandwich (on multigrain) for supper.

         I’m interested in just how long it is going to take to install this software. Jim Powers sent me a note last night saying he has the download and is excited about its potential. I am too; I’m pumped to reap its benefits. He said it would take another half hour or so to load it into the flash-drive. Jim has a relatively new MacBook Pro like daughter – it will be cool to see if the flash-drive loads the software faster, slower or the same than the hard disc drive.

         Post, and call it a day. – Amorella.

         I will be wondering about this conversation between Sophia and Kassandra – on politics (rebellion) or relationships?

         Relationships are politics, boy.

         You mean you cannot have a relationship without some sort of politics?

         You have to ask?

         I don’t think of friendships as politically-minded.

         They are, boy. You bet your boots they are. – Amorella.

         That’s depressing to think on.

         No rose colored glasses from this end of the spectrum, buddy-boy. – Amorella.

         The  M-W dictionary focuses on the government in terms of politics, it says nothing about relationships or friendships.

         In these books and blog relationships are politics. Post. – Amorella.

Notes - unconscious mix of pride & humility / pre sc. 2; ch 8

        Mid-morning. The cable modem is still out as far as Internet service is concerned. Someone from WOW cable is supposed to come sometime today to replace the modem. That appears to be the only damage from the lightning strike. All in all, not bad at all as all the appliances could have been fried. Last night when out picking up supper the electric crew was back working from the street.

         Carol is out on a walk with Owen at his request. You are happy to have some quiet time as much as Jadah is happy to be sitting in the living room’s east front window catching some rays unmolested by the curious and delighted by cats little human.

         I have the quiet but no thoughts to go with it. I am glad to have scene one of chapter eight completed. Who is in scene two and what is going on (please)?

         Your mind is still unconsciously concerned with other grammatical and lack of clarity errors you have made along the way. For the wrong reasons, boy. You want your few readers to feel you are still mentally competent and that hopefully you have some intelligence left in you. Of course you want to feel mentally competent and up to task too.

         Partially, it is a matter of pride, but in your case, also humility because you know what I know, you have to check the spelling of many of the words I use – why, because you are unsure and it is embarrassing for someone who taught English classes. You used to make a game out of it in class after you confessed you were a poor speller and if someone caught an error on the chalk board you would give them extra points. Constant behind the scene terror, to make an error.

         Why do you bring these matters up, Amorella?

         So you are consciously aware of them. A lot of ‘matters’ go on in the unconscious, boy, that is the reason some people are afraid to read their own minds for themselves. People are confused by their own thoughts.

         Yesterday, I saw on the news that a woman was stuck in the mangroves of a swamp for four days. She was being interviewed on the Today Show. When the interviewer asked her what she thought about during that time she said, ‘Crazy thoughts, like perhaps I was dead and didn’t know it.’ I didn’t think that was a crazy thought at all. People do get confused but keep it to themselves, sometimes making matters worse, or appear to be worse.  Still, this, constantly checking the dictionary and thesaurus shows I am no intellectual, not at all.

         That makes you easier to work with, boy. No problem. Take a break as it is getting on lunch time and you have an errand to run. – Amorella.

         Mid-afternoon. You had a nap. Owen is asleep on Carol who is stretched out on the couch. Carol told you about an hour ago that Kiam Peik, Paul’s mother, will be here by five from Dublin (northern suburb of Columbus) and that you are to leave when she arrives to beat some of the local traffic. Kiam will stay through Friday so Owen will have had a full week off day care and should be much better with his cold and left ear infection.

         The cable company people have not arrived so no Internet service.

         If you are tired when you are home, wait until tomorrow, and backtrack the dates to fill them in as you would any other rather than posting this material as one day’s work. Scene two we will find the two women, Kassandra and Sophia talking over breakfast at The Mikroikia at the northwest corner of Lyceum and Eleusis Streets. Remember Mikroikia means small house and their usual server is Aranos.

         As it is not twenty-two hundred hours, why don’t you begin posting. We can do more tomorrow. – Amorella.

Notes - a forearm's brush with lightning / Ch. 8; sc. 1

         Late morning. You decided not to post yesterday because nothing seemed at all important to you, at least not enough to post. Last night a bad storm came through and left five inches of rain in some places like Brook Park over near Cleveland Hopkins Airport. About one-thirty in the morning you were awaken by the quick lightning and immediate thunder. The electric crew is working on the poles near the yard and the immediate neighbor to the north. It sounds from the discussions that the lightning hit next door, perhaps forty feet away from Kim and Paul’s house. Today the Internet service is not working, which is not all that important from your immediate perspective.

        

         I glanced at the clock as the thunder roared and I believe it was one-twenty-seven. Kim’s fire alarm went off immediately – everyone was up but me. Even before the alarm was turned off I felt an electric’ sensation in my right forearm similar to that when my arm would go into a psychologically induced seizure.

         You don’t really like to talk about it, but you had a sense that your forearm had been struck, not directly, but those nerves appeared to be immediately affected by the closeness of the lightning strike.

         What comes to mind are (in a lab) frog legs being induced to quiver or jump from a short shock of electric. It was real enough to sense that sensation in the forearm muscles. . . . Carol and Owen just came in from a walk. Owen collapsed into a nap, Carol is doing some of our laundry, and we hope today that we can still drive home, leaving at five when Kim gets home. She says today is a good one because she is in charge of Freshman Orientation at Case-Western Reserve, with parents and new students, she enjoys it because it is a change from dealing with graduate students making their career choices at university’s termination. Kim always looks good, and very professional as she goes off to work; she at age thirty-one, makes this father proud.

         Within, the lightning has had its effect as a reminder of how it has been in the past when dealing with me, Amorella. The reminder is real enough and you need to realize that a lightning strike or a seizure is a physiological event.

         I can deal with it, Amorella. These things happen to people from time to time. It is not as if I have posttraumatic shock or anything along those lines. Funny, thinking about this makes my head ache in the left frontal and left temporal lobes so it may be that some activity is going on in those regions. I have been able to call brain activities from time to time, and once recognized correct (when she asked me specific questions and asking me (in front of the high school faculty at Indian Hill) by an expert in right/left brain thinking. I must be done because I cannot think of anything else to say about anything.

         Perhaps the Internet is working, give it a try. – Amorella.

         It is not.

         Stop for now. – Amorella.

         First, I am suddenly reminded that back in February I had a posting about my genealogy and I wrote that I feel that Shakespeare was written by the 17^th Earl of Oxford but I think I wrote 70^th Earl of Oxford instead. I think I tried to correct this months ago but it didn’t correct. People who read that probably think I am a crazy man out of my mind.

         Orndorff, the blog states this is a ‘working’ blog; it is an ongoing lab report, so to speak. Natural errors are a part of your authenticity, boy.

         Perhaps I have too many ‘natural’ errors, Amorella, and it makes these observations worthless.

         These observations are only important to you, young man. Your the one who created the experiment of writing your mind; it was for your own curiosity if you remember.

         True. It was. This is my time to waste, but I do not desire in any way to waste the readers’ time.

         That’s the beauty, boy. No one is forced to read any of it. If people think it is a waste of time they will stop reading. People have free will, boy, even if you don’t feel you do. – Amorella.

         I’m done for now.

         Early afternoon. Carol is taking Owen for a short walk, the electric crew left, you two had lunch of leftover pizza from last night’s supper, Garcia’s while Owen had turkey sausage, cheese and banana as well as an electrolyte drink. So far, he has kept his breakfast and lunch down. He still has a light fever from a slight left ear infection for which he is taking antibiotics and Children’s Tylenol. He played some this morning and his long nap helped everyone. Now he is being clingy with his Grandma O. Shortly you will be off on a grocery errand. Later, dude. – Amorella.

         Mid-afternoon. Why don’t you work on the intro to chapter eight, include the chess game. – Amorella.

        ** **

Chapter Eight

Scene 1

         Morning, the tenth day of the rebellion as reckoned by the Dead’s counting of days. Merlyn stood on the empty fourth white square of the White Queen’s Rook on the Board facing back to the Queen’s pawn on rook square three ready to command the White Pawn to move forward one. He turned to his left for one last look of the Black’s fourth row across. Reading from the far right of the fourth row to the near left Merlyn saw an empty dark rook square, a black pawn on the light square, a black bishop on the immediate next dark square, an empty light square, a black pawn on the next light square, an empty dark square, an empty light square, and the last square, dark, also empty.

         The fifth row, the middle row held two pieces, furthest from Merlyn the second, the dark square, holds a White Knight, then an empty white square followed to the left an empty dark square. In the next square, which is light, stands a black pawn. The rest of the fifth row sets empty.

         Merlyn turn again to face the White Pawn for Move 22, and thus the contest continues:

Move 22 W. Pawn to Queen Rook 4              Black Bishop to Knight 2        

Move 23 W. Pawn to Rook 5                           Black Queen to Rook 2

Move 24 W. King Rook to King 1                   Black Rook to Bishop 3

***

         You have the chess moves set through the rest of the chapters of all six books. Also, you have the moves pictured. Here is an example from where this chapter begins.

         Count up four squares from the first square, the dark one, on the far left of the first, the bottom row. It appears empty, but Merlyn is not easily seen as here, he is one dimensional, not two. – Amorella.

         Take home from Five Guys Burgers and Fries for supper. You talked to Paul and he mentioned the lightning strike – he thinks it hit the house – he thought the bed shook as he woke up and immediately the alarm went off before the thunder had stopped. He said it took him an hour or so to get to sleep and was surprised I wasn’t so bothered. I told him about the affect on my right forearm and his thought was that the charge was close enough for the negative charge traveled about ten inches or so up my forearm and by the time it got to my elbow it was a positive charge. I think if it hit the house like Paul thinks then it traveled down the aluminum siding which was less than two feet from where I was sleeping and my arm was dangling as it is a regular sized bed and there is not a whole lot of room for the cat, then Carol and then myself. Anyway, that is our present hypothesis.

         Now that I think about it, the Monday before last Bob’s house was hit by lightning. I don’t know what the odds are but if I didn’t know better I would be a bit spooked.

Notes - Sitting Owen / Prelim on ch 8

        It is difficult to consider much of anything while “The Cat In The Hat” is on CBS Kids. . . . A little after noon. Everyone had lunch and the curtains and blinds are drawn in the living room for an afternoon nap. I don’t appear to have the energy to write. Continual playtime, half the time by himself, but someone has to be watching. I really need a nap myself but Carol has collapsed on the floor beside him. Having a little one is for the much younger.

         Younger is the natural concept, boy. The shamans of the early days understood such things. Some though, took it upon themselves to declare nature good to a point then it was evil. Misplacement. The nature of human beings appears to be good and evil, but mostly it is self-indifference where the trouble begins. Chapter eight will reflect some of this, but not among the shamans. We will begin with Tiresias and Ezekiel. Post. – Amorella.

Notes - Reflections: present&past /

        Mid-afternoon. Roused from a nap by daughter. Instructed to watch Owen as he sleeps; while she and Carol head out for errands. Chinese, Happy Buddha, for supper. Earlier today you were about to leave when Owen felt warm and became lethargic – he is down with something. You are staying until Tuesday so Kim won’t have to use a sick day. He was fine through breakfast at First Watch.

         From mid-afternoon Friday he was fine. Lots of positive ‘let’s play’ energy. He is becoming a helpful little lad, bringing me my shoes and cane when it is time to run errands. He helps his mother also (which is a good thing). He also can have a devilish sense of humor, that twinkle in his eye is full of life whether his is creatively playing with his food or pushing a new toy rake around the room like he is sweeping (mimicking his dad’s motions as Paul runs the sweeper). 

         Paul is at the hospital studying. I did not realize these August Boards are in Oklahoma and are anesthesiology Boards not regular medical Boards – the first of three – oral Boards next summer and the summer after his fellowship – practical Boards where he is followed around for a day then judged accordingly. The key is, according to Paul, study so that he does not have to retake it as it costs five hundred dollars plus perhaps plane fare. 

         I was never a good test taker (unless it was an essay sometimes). The last one Carol and I took (similar to Paul’s in it basic nature) was the Graduate Record Exam. The only one that ever saved me with the Miller Analogy, I would have never got into graduate school without the good grad. Different times. Back then people worked the graduate school circuit to get out of going to Vietnam. Not me though. I had volunteered but they wouldn’t take me because of blood pressure issues.

         You felt duty-bound to go in the service?

         I guess. I first volunteered in 1961, before Otterbein College. Blood pressure issues. Air Force. Then Air Force ROTC at Otterbein for two years until I failed the physical again (still blood pressure). I don’t know that I felt ‘duty-bound’ as such. I can’t remember. I do remember the Kent State incident in the spring, when I was working on my Master’s thesis at Bowling Green. I felt bad about it, but I also worried that BGSU would close in protest (for) her sister university, Kent State and I needed the library open to complete my research. I never identified with the anti-war movement and the hippies as such; mostly I was indifferent – they were a different generation from my own. I was ten years older than most of them were. Besides, I was a beat, not a hippy. Big difference in my book. I did sympathize with the ‘Ban the Bomb’ movement, that seemed a necessity to me. We are still here though, who would have thought civilization would have lasted this long? Not me.

         Post. – Amorella.

Notes - Grace / Purpose /

        Early Saturday morning. No one else is up. You had a busy two days. Thursday was spent with old friends, Bob P., Fritz M., Cathy and Tod, as well as your Class of 1960 gathering. The best wit of the day was this wonderful clip.

** **

         You and Bob were eating a delicious lunch at Logan’s Steak House at Easton Shopping and the male server said:

Server: “Are you ready for a brownie for dessert?”

Bob (deadpanned): “I’d like a girl scout.”

And, seeing the confused expression on the server’s face you said,

“An eighteen year old girl scout.”

** **

         I should not have interfered. This day and age though, what are you going to do but protect your friends. Bob who is a kind and considerate curmudgeon was playing on “brownie” and “girl scout”, but as both of us looked quite old (with our canes) and somewhat worn around the edges, it might have come out as a terrible “dirty old men” comment with a pedophile slant to some. I saw it as quite charming and witty, and typical quick thinking Bob.

         Then I really thought about the incident and it made me really angry. Media is so pronounced that it has been become the stand . . . I know why am I angry at myself . . . too sensitive to the times, so much so that it interfered with my original sense of humor, to the wit. When I mentioned this to Carol she said, “He could have been talking about Girl Scout cookies, as the focus was dessert.” Typical Carol remark. Then, of course, she could easily have been right as she so often is. So, it was back to me, I thought the remark was about a Girl Scout, I put the “dirty old man” theme to it and added the pedophile slant.

         Could be, boy. You never asked Bob his intent, but he surely caught yours. Perhaps this was your unconscious thought about John Newton's words to the hymn the other day.

“Amazing grace! How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me.”




         This could very well be, Amorella. That certainly would make me a ‘wretch’ at least in my own eyes.

         In many people’s eyes, boy. Title it, “Grace”  and post. – Amorella.

         Breakfast at Yours Truly and you are sitting in the car still at Shaker Square while the others are enjoying the weekly Farmers’ Market on the Square – lots of tents and people and even a group of about thirty yoga students ‘working out the their spiritual methodology through bodily manipulation.

         It is so odd – I cannot think of the correct words to use so you are using what comes to mind. Now, did you induce what is here or did I?

         You did, boy. I cannot bring to consciousness specific nouns, verbs, etc. I can interpret what is important in you lack of conscious expression, but as the yoga experience does not affect your heart or soul either, for that matter (as it is not personalized) I set it down as you stumblingly consider the intent of your descriptive communication (in this case).

         Late afternoon. Paul is at the hospital studying for the Boards, Kim, Carol and Owen are out shopping, and you have been watching previews of the new PBS Masterpiece Theatre mystery, “Zen” which is set in Rome. You are not entirely ‘sold’; but will watch the first episode on tomorrow night.         

         Such a relaxing day. Pulled pork sandwiches for supper (Paul’s recipe). I had no lunch as breakfast was far too large, a killer skillet with about four too many unhealthy items such as bacon, sausage, bread and potatoes. The eggs were probably not so good for me either, but all in all it was quite a delicious ‘farm’ breakfast which if I had gone out and worked in the fields all day would have been burnt off by now. This began with a large glass of ‘fresh orange juice’ – it tasted just like it does, when in Florida you pick off the trees yourself, use an electric squeezer and drink pure orange juice from tree to liquid in fifteen or twenty minutes. I am still not that hungry.

         You just ate three pieces of candy, why would you be hungry at all? – Amorella.

         You are relentless, Amorella. This is somewhat embarrassing to have mentioned.

         It would be healthy for you if you weren’t so embarrassed, boy. You have a battleground of a body. This has been weaned into a spiritual battle also.

         Microsoft Word does not like present perfect tense and shows this by a wiggly green line under ‘has been weaned’. I used to love past, present, and future perfect tense when in early junior high school, seventh and eighth grade grammar, even ninth grade grammar.

** **

Past Perfect Verb: verb tense that tells about one past action that occurred before another past action;

Present Perfect Verb: verb tense that tells about an action that happened sometime in the past and is continuing in the present.

Future Perfect Verb: a verb form that expresses action completed by a specified time in the future.

(Online free dictionary)

** **

         I have, since those early days of understanding, always enjoyed the ‘fluidity’ in terms of a sense of time conditionals. It is no wonder (in my mind) that ‘a flowing river’ is a connecting image to ‘passing’ from this universe to the next (if there is one). In some ways, life would be much easier if there weren’t an afterlife. I cannot however imagine a purpose other the procreation of the species. Unless, our species would help usher in another species that would indeed have an afterlife. That would be cool – anything actually, that would demonstrate we have some worth beyond self. Even if we knew, as a species, we were to be the ‘caretakers’ of the planet, that is, that we, as a part of Mother Earth, are higher conscious extensions of her duties, of her mastery of useful physics that promotes the growth of higher consciousnesses – a continual step up the ladder, so to speak, that would give us a legitimate purpose for being.

         Mother Nature, in the books via Grandma, does appear to know her purpose, something humans can imagine and create, but do not know. Would people be better off knowing?

         No.

         Then why spend time imaging such a scenario?

         Good question.

         It is about time for supper. Post. – Amorella.