The Adventures of Bloggard

December 4, 2006: After being off the air, awaiting repairs after hacker damage — apparently our server was needed to assist in sending important viagra spam to needy individuals in Brazil and Portugal — the Adventures of Bloggard has again returned to the this spot on your internet dial. A new carborator, air in the tires, a coat of wax, and this weblog’s as good as new. Maybe.

My last post was September of 2005. A year has passed. My how time flies when you’re having fun. Maybe even when you’re not.

During the year, Cowboy Charlie showed up, a beagle-border collie mix, and is now a part of our morning ritual. Charlie and Daisy Dog tussle, while Lizzie barks and barks and barks. Ah, the gentle morning.

A major upgrade in the Megatar shop is nearing completion, installing machinery of greater precision and volume, because we were falling behind on orders.

More to follow, from time to time.

Interior of Mexico, this week: Maybe our myth and memory of long ago is better than we think.

Archeological discoveries in Mexico made recently report that fossils of the Pterosaur, a flying lizard from the same period as dinosaurs, actually had wingspans up to 60 feet! Thank about that. It’s lots bigger than a small airplane. It’s longer than a bus.

The pterosaur was much like a huge bat, with membrane-thin wings and hollow bones. It’s also called Quetzalcoatlus after the ‘Feathered Serpent’ of the Aztecs.

I don’t know what you think, but it sounds like a dragon to me.

Perhaps the dragon is not such a mythical beast as we’ve been told. Perhaps it is, instead, a dim and ancient memory, deep inside us, and in moments, seen clearly.

Moishe is driving in Jerusalem. He’s late for a meeting. He’s looking for a parking space, and can’t find one. In desperation, he turns towards Heaven and says, “God, if you find me a parking space, I promise that I’ll eat only Kosher, respect the Sabbath, and all the Holidays.”

Miraculously, a parking spot opens up just in front of him.

He turns his face up to heaven and says, “Never mind, I just found one.”

Researchers from Technische University (Munich, Germany) reported in the Journal of the American Medical Association that patients with migraine headaches were helped just as much by acupuncture needles stuck randomly into their bodiese as by needles at the precisely prescribed pressure points.

And nay-sayers claim that acupuncture doesn’t work!

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The Virginia Employment Agency, which handles unemployment compensation, recently laid off 400 of its workers. The reason was that unemployment in Virginia was so low that the unemployment workers had nothing to do.

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A support group for Chronic Fatigue Syndrome based in Nelson, New Zealand, said that its members would generally not attend the public International Awareness Day held to expand awareness of the debilitating illnes. The group chairman said that members would probably not attend, because the members are usually too tired for such events.

Mount Shasta, July 7th, 2005: Daisy, our little white border collie is one year old. From the basement today Adrienne brought the plastic swimming pool. It’s just a Toys ‘R Us special, about four feet across and perhaps eight inches deep. She’d bought it for the dogs, for the hot weather.

On the back deck, she filled it up with cool, clear water.

Tonight after supper, with the sun aslant from beyond the mountains to the west, and the mountain beyond our back yard glowing peach-colored, we sat out back drinking iced tea after supper.

Daisy noticed, for the first time, the little fish printed on the bottom of the plastic pool.

At first I was puzzled at her dipping her head into the water, and biting at the water. Suddenly, I saw it. If I just forget what I know about the refraction of water, then what my eyes actually see are the painted fish wiggling as the water moves, and the wiggling fish are just barely below the surface.

Therefore, any good dog, who was quick enough, ought to be able to bite one of those wiggling fish!

Again and again she circled the edge of the plastic pool, biting into the water. Bite, bite, bite, bite, bite!

See funny Spot!

Plunging her head down into the water — bite, bite, bite, bite, bite! — and then she would lift up, to clear the water from her nose and mouth. She’d look at us, puzzled, as the water poured down from her chin.

We were laughing, and I greatly admired her persistance, and then this made me think about the Angels.

Angels always seem so solemn. They aren’t human, of course. So I wonder: Can Angels laugh?

Is it in them that they can laugh? Can they understand strife? Pain? Release? Freedom? Is anything funny to the Angels? Can you picture an Angel, laughing?

I hope they can.

I hope they can laugh. Because just as we can see how Daisy is caught up in illusion, so too must God see us, caught up, day by day, in illusion.

It must be very funny to God. At least, I’d like to think God is getting the good of it. And that’s why I hope that the Angels can laugh, because surely it will be so much more fun for God, if He’s got somebody to share the joke.

Mill Valley, July 2 2005: Adrienne’s athletic daughter Layla is an attractive young woman, both strong and swift, and so she was quite alarmed early this morning when a wild rash broke out, arms and body glowing red suddenly.

This weekend, her fiance Greg had just finished a big job after a couple of exhausting weeks of early, early mornings, long drives, long days, and late, late nights. Perhaps he was not at his best, and was looking forward to a quiet weekend for recovery.

Layla called Adrienne. “What should I do? What should I do?”

Adrienne told her to get herself to the hospital stat!

Layla hung up, and still holding her phone, called out to Greg, “Would you look up the number for Marin General?”

“Sure,” he said, speaking over his shoulder as he shambled over to dig out the phone book. “Did you want the gift shop?”

Oh, Greg. That was terridly rash.