I have Windows Live Writer sitting around doing nothing. So finally I decide to see if it’s good for anything. Turns out maybe it is. 
Anyhoo, that’s insomnia for ya.
Oh – drat – of course the bloody thing wants to check my spelling.
Worse than that – the only browser it knows is Idiot Exploder.
I made one mistake in buying a ready-made drum. It was so shoddy there was no way to tighten it up enough to get a decent sound out of it. So I took it apart. The fourth-rate rawhide heads can be recycled into rattles. The frame, after a little work, was fit to use again….
At first, when I think of Origami, I think of the beautiful logic of its geometry. But in the process of folding, a kinship to poetry emerges. Poetry is made up of words. Traditional poetic forms have a regularity of pattern that can be compared to Origami. Folds are the language, the words, of Origami….
I blew it again. The binding wasn’t tight enough. Since there was no way to adjust it, I’ve taken it apart again. Yes, again. This was the second time I’ve mis-headed that frame. Maybe the third will be lucky. Oh well. Dinner was good. Ham, baked potatoes, and squash. BTW, I have always loathed that…
Dear Minions of the Insane Monopoly; My check for the current amount due is enclosed. Please also accept my sincere disgust for your cavalier treatment of an honest, reliable paying customer. For several years I have enjoyed the convenience of paying my bill online. Lately, it has changed from a convenience to a growing annoyance….
I’ve been in it for over a month now. I like it. Finding new friends, renewing old aquaintance, following interesting links and learning about things I would have overlooked — tons of redeeming social value. But then there is the Dark Side of Twitter. Individuals whose main objective is self-promotion for profit at the expense…
My newest drums have a lot to tell me about how sensitive and moody drums can be. Raven Laughs is the crankiest thing in the house after me. We both wake up in the morning slack and grumpy. That drum…now it’s the temperature. Give it a blast of heat and it sings, but at 45-50…