repository for the occasional perambulatory rumination

Secret Decoder Ring


I read it. I liked it. I adapted it:

Speech to the Young: Speech to the Progress-Toward (Among them Nora and Henry III)

by Gwendolyn Brooks

Say to them, say to the sun-slappers, the self-soilers, the harmony-hushers, “Even if you are not ready for day it cannot always be night.” You will be right. For that is the hard home-run. Live not for the battles won. Live not for the-end-of-the-song. Live in the along.


god: the black cat that Moxie rescued from imminent slaughter on the eve of Halloween. His name from d-o-g in reverse AND from this little beauty from the ink of Tukaram (c. 1608-1649):

First He Looked Confused

I could not lie anymore so I started to call my dog “God.”

First he looked confused,

then he started smiling, then he even


I kept at it: now he doesn’t even


I am wondering if this might work on people?

Mr. Thrillenity: My husband. Thrill from it’s Middle English roots meaning “pierced” as in “within minutes of meeting him, he pierced my heart” and Lenity synonymous with a lot of things that I still find attractive in him: mildness, gentleness, generousness, easygoingness, patience, considerate, big-heartedness, and, of course: tolerance.

Moxie: MOK-see. Verve, vigor, courage, aggressiveness, know-how. The name of a popular drink from the 1920′s – something people drank to feel better, confident, capable. Yep, that’s my daughter. For sure. She inspires me, amazes me, and nudges me when needed. Ever since she bought her own house several years ago (allowing us to get away from the mother/daughter hierarchy that comes from living under the same roof) well, some folks call us the Gilmore Girls.

Phoebe: our incredibly adorable, intelligent, and funny-by-nature Welsh Corgi. A Christmas gift from Mox and Slug, Phoebe got her name after a character I was playing on stage in my first ever play: The Farndale Avenue Housing Estate Townswomen’s Guild’s Dramatic Society’s Production of A Christmas Carol. Once I memorized the title, my lines were not a problem.

Pipp: the pastel calico cat, whose colors are so incredibly desirable that I’ve wound up decorating my entire house in like colors. Without even realizing it. Her name comes from Dickens’ Great Expectations in which the fortune of one called Pip was changed when someone interceded. Our Pipp is yet another rescued kitty, saved from the jaws of another aggressive animal by daughter Mox.

Slug: Don’t even bother looking it up in the dictionary ’cause this little moniker comes from Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged where she writes of steam engines and mentions the slug as the hottest coal. The coal that keeps the fire burning. The fire that keeps the train moving forward.