Odd and ends

Our weather in the morning has been decent enough for me and my poodle to go for walks, but then I got hit by George Washington's Revenge, the American version of Moctezuma's Revenge which strikes American tourists inevitably at some point during their vacation time here in Mexico.  My cousin Cary may be the exception to that rule, but I'm not sure; he and friends have covered the roads on motorcycles and stayed in some places one would hesitate to recommend, but he seems to have either escaped untouched by digestive disaster, or is unwilling to share this vital information.

My mother's creative writing teacher sent me a link to a university-level poetry appreciation course that is wonderful.  It is wonderful because it's free, and it is wonderful because the lady professor is magnificent.  Talk about opening up new worlds!  The downside--and there always is one--is that I now contemplate my own few attempts at poetry with a newly-critical eye, but without enough distance to accomplish that task--evaluating--successfully.  I just like them, and they express what I had to say at the time, so that's enough for me.  A friend of mine, a Catholic priest, read them and said he found them "picturesque", not exactly a rousing endorsement, but he may have been affected by one of my poems that made a statement about eternity which was not exactly within the bounds of Catholic dogma.

In fact, during the time I worked with this man at his immigrant shelter, I had occasion to disappoint him perhaps fatally as far as the friendship went.  We were discussing religion.  He seemed to console himself at my lack of religious belief by stating that I "believed in people".  I should have left him with that thought, but no, I had to pipe up and say I thought mankind was going to Hell in a handbasket, do not pass "Go", do not collect $100.  What I did say was that in my scheme of ethics, I felt that every person had the moral imperative to try to leave the world a better place in some small measure.  I ascribe to that Spanish saying, roughly translated, that says that good works are love (meaning love of life and mankind).  All the sermonizing, writing, scolding, and philosophizing are pointless if that is all you do.  You've got to get out there and do something as far as I'm concerned, no matter how small you may think that something is.  In today's world, where violence, rudeness, smart-aleck comebacks, anonymous ranting and insults made possible by social networks and the Internet seem to define our times, just being polite to a stranger or calm in traffic are no minor works.  It may not seem like much if you live in Texas where the standards of politeness and friendliness are pretty high, but imagine if you lived in New York!!  A kind word there might cause someone to pass out!

The Trip

It has been quite a long time since I've written in this, but things have been too hectic for old me.  Literally, old me, because if anyone needs some sedate time, 'tis I.

I was fortunate enough to take a trip to visit my mother and got to see my brother, cousin Cary, and sister-in-law.  It was during this trip that plans to get a companion for TootSweet firmed up, and around September he will be joined by Lusso, a Spinone Italiano, or gun dog--the kind that point and then retrieve.  These are the tasks standard poodles were bred to do, and why the Toots refuses to get into the water is a mystery.  Nevertheless, Lusso definitely will enjoy a daily dip, so maybe the Toots will be tempted as well.  It's good exercise for man or dog.

Upon my arrival yesterday the temperature here was 100°F.  This morning I don't know what the temperature is and don't want to know.  So far I can't decide if Toots and I will go for a walk or not.  Meanwhile, this mystifying blooper:

"Ants are of two kinds: insects and lady uncles."