With the very best of intentions I have embarked on an odyssey of the spoken word, my own spoken word.
The result has been chaos. My rhythm has been broken, my logic paths diverted, and my sense of stability threatened. How has all this come about? With the simple introduction of a new piece of software, I introduced it myself.
At present I sit before the keyboard typing. A few minutes ago I dictated my thoughts into a microphone where they were diligently transformed into digital text, more or less accurately. So what is the problem?
Not yet am I so detached from the details and process of dictation that my mind can soar, leaving a path for the words to follow. The familiar keyboard long ago ceased to fetter my thoughts and has followed me obediently for many years. With this new voice dictation I find myself watching the sound levels, the spelling mistakes, and the format of the words rather than focusing on their meaning. This software will own my complete attention, perhaps for several months.
Most of what I have verbally composed for my journal over the last few days has been one form or another of prayer, begging the software to release me from its grip. This it will not do, and so I have resorted to the keyboard to organize and record my thoughts unhampered.
The software is ViaVoice for Mac, Enhanced Edition. It is a stern taskmaster, and it will be a powerful ally when mastered.
We have heard no word of the wedding. "The Teenager" slips in and out of a state of panic and hysteria. I do not. The wedding day will arrive, I will cry with happiness for my oldest daughter's good fortune, and Attila and I will have a wonderful time. The young people will be plagued by emotions and expectations. There is nothing to be done about that, except try to stay out of their way and let them enjoy the benefits of youth.
Spring really has arrived. Attila is working longer hours and six days a week. The ground is covered with a hint of green. One day last week it was warm enough to turn off the central heating and open the windows. It rains almost every day. I saw a yellow crocus in a garden. A few centimeters of Sedum have emerged from the brown earth at the back of the garden. They are smaller than the hat of an acorn, but it is a start.
The arrival of spring is always an inspiration to clear away the old and the dusty. One of the tasks I have started is the cleaning of the windows. This is a very big job. Each window consists of four large and very heavy panels of glass, each of which must be gingerly removed from the window frame and lifted to the safety of the floor. Washing the windows is the easy part. I have completed one window and have five more to clean, window by window. Attila is busy raking the lawns and clearing the dead branches left by the snow and wind.
There are other harbingers of spring. Yard sale notices have started to appear in the mailbox and door-to-door salespeople are busy ignoring my "No Soliciting" sign. Children are chasing balls through gardens and dogs are joyfully barking at passing pedestrians.
Occasionally the sun shines like a blessing on these mortal comings and goings.
|RECIPES :: Cast
A few centimeters of Sedum.
By the Easy Chair
The Devil's Dictionary
by Ambrose Bierce
No. 8 in A Flat Major
COMPULSION, n. The eloquence of power.
From: The Devil's Dictionary
3:37 PM DST
Temp: 15` C
Wind: E 20 mph
Barometric: 101.5 kPa (v)
Sunrise 6:49 AM DST
Sunset 8:01 PM DST
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