A Mere Trifle, My Dear!

A unicorn farm that is!

Well, substitute "unicorn farm" for "working a lot of over time" and "canoodling with beaus" and then you have an idea of what's going on!!

Real life interfering with blog life, as it is deliciously wont to do!!!

Thus, TRIFLE is getting a sap to the head from behind, with never so much as a How Do You Do!

Lest I feel guilty for letting it sit like a poor Motherless child!

Goodnight, moon!

Goodnight, friends!

Goodnight, blog!

This is a scary Poem for you, as never should a day pass without a dose of vitamin P!
The poem is by a man named Hughes Mearns. Despite his first name, he is only one man. Curious but true.

In the tradition of tedium associated with Blogs I will document further changes to my garden, changes perceptible only to me perhaps, and surely irrelevant to all else.

Perhaps...my efforts are even laughable to those with real gardens, and rolling lawns far as the eye can see, instead of some planters on a porch!
*Bites knuckle and collects herself!!*

Oh, isn't it wonderful that photographs can be obtained with such ease these Days! No more costly film to buy, or waiting for the Drug Store to process 12, 24, or 36 pictures of one's thumb.


In fact, think of it: could our cozy realm of Web Bloggery thrive so luxuriantly without cameras being firmly ensconced in the Age of Digitalia?

Lycobus thinks not!!!!!

Why, in olden times, I would not have wasted veritable rolls of film, photographing my breakfast cereal, a funny cloud out the window, and my feet, as I did this morning!


Indeed, it is a new world we live in.

The Doodle Week task of the day is "Flowers or Plants".

This is a timely theme, as I am inspired by my own garden plot which is coming along Nicely!!

This Week is Doodle Week! In the world of Blogs that is. So, don't go about Doodling on co-workers or automobiles. They won't understand.

For a Change, Lycobus will participate in a "bloggy" thing.

I do not have the device many others seem to be using, the Scan-o-Tronmatic machine that allows you to take real-life doodles and turn them into Digitalia.

So for today's Doodle theme, "Doodle You," here is an ad-vertisement drawing of Lycobus that I once modeled for in my salad days.

In the quest for a touch of Nature, in the Midst of the hot concrete and glass of another city Summer, Lycobus has planted a garden on her small Balcony!

First of all, I should note here for any timid would-be Gardeners that seeds work. Yes, the rumours are true. What a cunning invention!!! How can tiny shriveled dots transform into various eatables or smellables or just-plain-lookables, waving their fronds in the balmy breeze? The Mind boggles.

So far, things in the balcony pots are are in their Early stages, so we are forced to only imagine what sweet Refuge will emerge from the current gangling Array of young sproutlings.

The periwinkle has yet to spread it's tentacles, and the daisies and pinks are unimposing leafy clumps. The mint is (as of yet) entirely unsuitable for addition to cold Rum drinks. The Sweet Peas are unfurling their small Frail heads, resembling blades of grass moreso than Flowers, and barely hinting at the Sweet-scented profusion to come, a perfume I expect will quite overwhelm the odour of the Neighbor's "marijuana cigarettes"!!

But ah, for an acreage that one could turn into a spawling field of fancy, with birds flittering about, and a Labyrinth and a moat! And ever so many Radishes. In contrast to the Palatial sprawl of Lycobus's Imaginary Kingdom, the concrete balcony is comparatively confining!!!!!

However, before I get carried along down the path of Ingratitude, like a twig in a Stream, this authour has recently read an interesting quotation that has Stayed in her mind like a burr on a stocking!

Lycobus is fond of Horrid Novels (they go well with candy!!!), and recently spent a leisurely Saturday reading a Thomas Harris novel from olden times (the 1980s), entitled Red Dragon.

In between Slayings and Bloodshed, in this Novel it is said of one character: "She can hold a moment by the stem."

The character in Question had suffered many Sad losses and had learned, it was implied, to live for the small fleeting Pleasures that all to often go Unremarked Upon in our Modern World, where we always have our Eyes peeled for something bigger and better than what is at Hand.

And without too much exertion of The Imagination, this expression translates cozily to the temporal sphere of a garden, be it Ever so Humble!!!


So, though Lycobus is also fond of moaning & groaning about things, She is resolved to take her pleasures as they come, and nothing is so Pleasureable as watching something go from a dubious hard seed to a blade of greenery!!!

I have had my Learner's Driving License for 10 years. The Department of Motorcars doesn't know what to do with me. Each year when I go in to renew my Learner's Driving License, they do a double-take, then look at me in Silent Judgement.

Occasionally, someone will inquire as to whether I will ever take my exams. Not likely! "What of it, Bureaucrats!!" Lycobus replies archly!

Indeed, Lycobus has never learned to drive. That is, not legally. I can "drive." Just not with other people on the road.

When Lycobus was coming of age, her Mother was more interested in such things as Paying the Bills Somehow, making Ends Meet, and not Completely Losing Her Shit, than in such niceties as firing up the Ford to assist her daughter in acquiring Useful if Esoteric skills.

But, some driving knowledge eventually came out of Necessity. For some time I lived on an isolated island with many the long and woodsy road. Driving was convenient, if not necessary, once the cold Winter Winds started a-blowing and Bicycle riding was a Ridiculous Dream.

Whereupon, I would climb into the 1980 Chevrolet half-ton pick-up with no clutch and a squirrel's nest by the Carburator and, palms gripped damply at 10 and 2, meander with lethal impetus towards the dock 4 miles away, to pick up the post, Vittles, or people.

The whole way, Lycobus would pray, "Please sweet baby Jesus don't let me meet oncoming traffic." The roadways were most Narrow! The enduring Fear was having to reverse my motor vehicle in order to allow someone to ease past once I arrived at a sufficiently wide spot. Nightmare! Better to just throw one's hands in the air and accelerate over the cliff, whilst praying for a Better Day to come.

So after this experience, it Seemed that driving was for a Chosen Few; those with the artful wherewithal to keep calm and collected in a Pinch, to negotiate signals with Panache, and to maneuver Tetris-like through traffic with the right balance of Defensive/Offensive measures.

Lycobus, now a City Mouse, has ever since taken the number 11 bus everywhere. The number 11 bus being, her own 2 legs that God gave her. In that each leg represents a "1."

In my ongoing pedestrianism, however, I am becoming both more terrified of traffic, while reassured that there is a place for me in it.

Without mincing Words, let me say that one and all you driving folk are Crazy Ass, with nary a skilled automobilist amoungst you all! The pathos, anxieties, and Egomania that consume us in a social setting carries over nicely to "back seat drive" as you all careen down the roadway, looking neither to nor fro!

So, one day soon, you just might wonder what Cow it is that has cut you off with nary a how-do-you-do, or you will hasten to Leap out of the path of an autocar racing the wrong way up a one-way alley.

It may be I, Lycobus, now that I realize driving does not take inordinate skill but only luck and Derring-Do!!!

Rant compelled by the fact that today I was quite nearly Decapitated by a passing mirror of the #602 (a real bus), but Tragedy was averted when I turned my head to look at a passing Bird. I also had to wave my fist Threateningly at a sedan whose driver appeared to be "text messaging" on his Cellular Telephone whilst accelerating through a populated Cross-Walk.

In regards to the ongoing Lessons about Sin, Lycobus has bitten off more than is Dainty to chew! Discussion of sin was getting unspeakably Boring. Mysterious, how something that Fun to Do is Boring to talk about. Even the prospect of tackling Lust today (as a special Sunday Treat) was oddly Exhausting.

So, just for now, Lycobus will hold off on further discourses on Evil. Lest you never hear from her again at All!! Stay tuned, however, I will pick up where I left off one of These Days.

Not a smarmy Word out of anyone about the long delay between this post and the last, and the relevance to today's Lesson! Ho ho, what an ironic parallel, and so forth, etc.!

Alas, I have been having a hard time of it! Indeed it is all I can do to Log In to the Internet and half-heartedly peruse my electronic mail and amateur 'exposed ankle' sites -- that is to say, recipe message boards.

My personal time has been spent idling away my evenings in misty-eyed tipsiness and watching "Prime Suspect" and "Cracker" on Digital Versatile discs, in an effort to Soothe the existential grief.

So if you are inclined to scoff, and point the finger at my own perceived "sloth", then let me ask you thus: Where have you been? Prithee, what idle pursuits have garnered your Attentions, while weeks pass here at Trifle without updates, and clearly something is Off Kilter that may be remedied with a kind word or best yet 1-800-Flowers? Hm?

Indeed, Lycobus would have benefit from some attention these last few weeks, though admittedly she earned it not with zingy "updates" on this out-of-the-way strand of the Web. It would have been heartening, nevertheless, to have a caring Dogsbody at hand to draw a bath, or refill my snifter with Brandied Liqueurs when it dangled dropless betwixt limp fingers; someone in charge of making sure my coat was buttoned to the neck as a heavy-eyed Lycobus plodded forth, heedless, into yet another cold morning of an Indifferent World.

But anyhow, I forgive you. Indeed, it is easy to forgive Practically Nobody At All, as Trifle is not exactly the Grand Central Station of Blog-dom! It is too sad!

But I digress!

Sloth. Sloth is not merely sleeping or lazing about watching British crime dramas to excess; if that was the case we could award sloth the Best in Show prize out of all the seven Deadlies, for if one is merely sitting on one's ass, then one is not engaged in Gluttony, or Wrath, or the other Badder sins we will be discussing shortly.

However Sloth is taking more from society or your family than you give back.

So look at yourself and ask the Hard Question: Are you, yourself, an Asset or a Liability?

A tricky question indeed! I will need to purchase a monocle and top hat if this scholarly line of inquiry goes on here much longer!

But I fully intend to do some self-analysis myself.

After I find out whether Jane Tennison will keep her baby!

When it comes to sin, Lycobus knows more than is Good for her! Only not in the thrilling, personal way unfortunately, but from being raised a good Catholic girl who paid attention in umpteen million catechism Classes.

In fact, when it comes to Shady Doings of a Wanton Past, Lycobus has a lot to be desired, and for her own sake she Hopes the "past" is yet to come, lest her Nursing Home remembrances be ever so boring!! At Times, I have been compelled to fib about things to sound more Scandalous than I am, when I understand that with the Ladies it is usually the Opposite that is the custom.

The Seven Deadly Sins have always been a point of interest, for it was hard to believe there were merely seven. But then, as with most Theology, with a little twisting anything can be made to fit in with something else, so while there are "seven", they have many sub-categories.

To Educate and Astound my readers I will be exploring the Seven Deadly Sins in my next few web blog postings. This is called infotainment.

We will start with the most Luscious sin.

Did you know there is so much More to "Gluttony" than stuffing one's face? Let me elaborate, based on my be-monocled Internet researching.

• Eating too soon!!! (this begs the question: Too soon from what? Your most recent meal? The Lincoln assassination? Arising from the boudoir?)
  
• Eating too expensively. (In these modern times, everyone is guilty of this. I just paid $8 for a pound of grapes. I thought that was a crime! I am glad the Bible agrees!)
  
• Eating too much!! (this is the one you probably thought was all gluttony meant! Well, consider yourself Educated!!!)
  
• Eating too eagerly!
• Eating too daintily (I don't know why "eating too sloppily" isn't a sin...but there!! Consider yourself educated!!!)
• Eating too fervently (I don't know how this is Different than eating "eagerly." Maybe it is eating at a normal pace but while thinking Solemn Thoughts about the meal.)

So in closing. Do you enjoy your meals? Is your grocery bill high? Is your idea of Heavenly Bliss drawing a warm bubble bath and climbing in with a bowl full of Shepherd's Pie? Do you think the above picture of Dainties looks scrumptious? Then you, dear friend, are guilty of Gluttony.

I found a red jellybean on the floor of my office today, by my feet.




Lycobus is not Made of Stone.

Holidays are drawing to an End and the to-be-expected Melancholie is made more poignant by an accompanying sad reality. In the course of a single fortnight, Lycobus has gained 5 pounds!!

Unless my "digital scale" deceives me, or the heavy dread of returning to the daily grind does have a literal weight that is being detected.

Or, perhaps the activities of lolling, reading, and partaking of Dainties contributes to the formation of lean muscle mass? I have misplaced my monocle so I cannot conduct research on this possibility, monocles being necessary to the Conduction of Research. Maybe it's something to do with not running in 2 weeks (which burns off the chalupas ever so obligingly), and my primary Walks being mere saunters in order to peruse clothing stores or fetch more liqueurs for cocktails.

I am normally not the type of Dame who views such fluctuations with any alarm beyond a Raised Brow. However, such a lackadaisical attitude has, in the past, led to a bit of trouble! So perhaps, this time, I will bring in what Reinforcements in discipline technology has allowed for, that my own Character does not:


Sanitized tapeworms will make surely short work of this pitfall.

Hurrah modern science!! Hello, impending Gorgeousness.

I am back from my Holiday -- in which it Stormed, Snowed, and generally Blustered!! The Pacific was ever so crashy bangy! The innkeeper provided us with Candles as well, in the chance the Power was to go out. No fear -- that is when the "Zombies" strike! So Lycobus kept candles burning as well as the electrical-powered lamp for one can never be, after all, too Careful.

Well into the night I awoke from a sound sleep. The rain upon the Inn roof, the unfamiliar Room, the salt spray upon the glass, a lingering intoxication from the generous dollops of Southern Comfort I partook aforebed...unsurprisingly, the maudlin desire arose to set pen to paper. Poetry, that is. A sphere that has been hacked unrecognizable in its bed by hatchet-wielding amateurs! Lycobus will be first to acknowledge that her Liter'ry skills do not extend to Poetry. She is most suited to the composition of fervid Letters to the Editor that are edited for Clarity!

Worse yet, I adopted the style of Free Verse -- the style most chosen by for those lacking in poetic discipline, for it's perceived Ease! Excerpt to follow:

Ah, lovely! Through dint of Perseverance, Lycobus has earned her token, annual 2 weeks off from Work! So today I rise not in Gloom but in Splendour. Oh, what a different cast to the dawning light when one does not have to go out into it, muffled to the ears, to earn one's Bread and roses!

Hip-Hop-Huzzah. How comfortably, and with what Eager gratefulness, do I settle into this, my role as a good little Proletariat! "Why thank you, The Man, for allowing me time to myself to foster dreams, nurture hope, and drink cocktails of a weekday morning!"

Aeroplane tickets to Shark Bay (my longed-for Holiday of choice) are not forthcoming, but I do have Ever So Many library books to read. I am booking into an Inn on a nearby Island, on the outer coast that overlooks nought but the deserted reaches of Pacific Sea. Though they be not the Shores of Faraway, how excited I am at the Idea of seeing a horizon without land upon it.

All of my ocean-side life, the horizon has forever given evidence to the notion of land, land and ever more land lying over it. Human habitation with it's hew and cry occurring forevermore, just at the outermost range of one's Vision, the way an itch forms inaccessibly between the shoulder blades and drives one to distraction!!

But ah, soon I shall view a sea without such Clutter upon the horizon, one of Lycobus's Fond little dreams! Oh, Emptiness! How it does one good to dabble in it, and Welcome it in!!

Oh, Miss Schoolkate, witch-faced P.E. instructor of Olden times! Thrice weekly I faced you in 40-minute interludes of misery, sandwiched between Social Studies and Math!

What Satanic satisfaction did you derive from the torment of mere children? Did you believe your cruel taunts would work as a motivator to the more pudding-like amoungst our number? So what of the fact I could not run fast, throw straight, and hid in a toilet stall to change? It was not your business! I did not need your P.E. classes, Sorceress!! I was too busy making preparations to be a Genius. And Geniuses do not have to Run Laps. Ever!

How you loved your smelly domain of gym mats and dodge balls, presiding over it like a Haughty queen, in your robes of fleece and drawstring! How clear was your Contempt for those who were not citizens of that Kingdom!

Miss Schoolkate, your visage haunts me still: The demonic whistle that dangled between your spinster's breasts! Your fluffy Fawcett hair and birdlike face! Your hateful, watching eyes that measured your Subjects, and always found them wanting!

How exacting was your genius for honing in on weakness, announcing it, and dancing it on display for the mirth of others! O Thin-lipp'd Lamia!

"Lycobus! Look alive! Take this basketball..." *toss* "Oof!" "...and demonstrate how NOT to do a lay-up! You are a Natural at doing lay-ups Badly! Now, move it or lose it!"

Miss Schoolkate, you succeeded in motivating Lycobus all right...motivated her firmly right onto her ass, and motivated many trips to the vending machine to drown her Considerable Sorrows!I was not to break into a trot come hell or high water or Missed trains for many years to come, lest I hear the demonic trill of your Hell Whistle urging me faster, faster -- ever lung-burstingly faster!

I still think about you from time to time now that I actually enjoy a run, and do it Frequently. And yet, and yet! What a dark enchantment you have cast!

The memory of your face is still enough to slow me to a jog, then a crawl, eyes narrowed in memory of your grade-school tyranny.

When will your Voo-doo be broken, Schoolkate?

What tools are mine to weaken your Spell?!

Cannot add anything today!

Should have Removed my mitten and slapped the stylist Soundly across the cheek with it.

Next time, less Talk of the Movies, "night clubs" and how your cat is Teething, and more concentrating on Lycobus's gorgeous locks.

January 1st dawned clear, bright and cold -- cold, indeed! It seemed there was no Loving cushion of Cloud between we Earthlings and the chill indifference of the outer space Void. The sun gleamed unconvincingly. An icy wind blew, hinting of the Arctic wastes. It was a go-back-to-bed kind of Day.

Yet I forsook the Earthly comforts better suited to 5 degree weather - mugs of cocoa, woolen mittens, electrical heating, a blanket fort - and instead leapt headlong into the Pacific Ocean, blasting my senses into complete disarray, and mussing my coif so that I had to wash it later that day, though it was Tuesday and not normally a Hair-washing day.

Blue limbs and chattery teeth aside, I am fond of this so-called Polar Bear's Swim. Such activities build up the iron in one's blood. I don't care what the Scientists say; there is iron, and there is iron. And people these days lack in it, and are all the worse for it, and should seek out ways to improve themselves in this Key Point.

Lycobus has a Woman's love of the Comforts, such as laying a-bed reading, and eating Chocolates whilst at the Movies, and getting upset when the wear-and-tear of Life interferes with the integrity of her toenail polish. She is also scared of needles and can't drive an automobile. So, while many asked her, "Swimming in winter? How can you Do this stupid thing?", to Lycobus it does not seem Stupid at all, in light of her True Nature!

People in love with comfort must leave it behind on occasion, lest they become old before their Time (that is, their 30s).

Enjoy your breakfasts of Black Magic and Puddings! And remember those in your Prayers who are not Great Overfed bastards, like ourselves!

-Love, Lycobus.

My desire to Sleep In correlates with how stressful I anticipate my day as being. Therefore, on weekdays, I depress the "Snooze" button about seven times, until I am forced to forsake my breakfast and hairbrush, and tear down the street at an unladylike clip to get to work on Time. Yet on weekends, though the Bed be at my leisurely disposal, I bound out of Bed at the Crack of day, lest I waste a precious Drop of Free time!!

The first things I desire to Do with my Free time may not be agreeable to all, however. I cannot relax and do Other, More Leisurely things until I have Cleaned the house. This gives me an Inordinate amount of Satisfaction. I even have Internet web pages about Cleaning tips and tricks that I find enjoyable to View, so that when I am not cleaning I like to read these Pages and get tips and tricks and feel very smug and Matronly.

In my usual Routine, I vaccuum up my parrot's feathers, scrub the sinks and Floors, put on a Wash, and put on the Bread Machine so that I will have a dense, cubelike loaf for the weekend's toast and jam. Then water the plants, dust the shelves, and straighten the books that Somehow throughout the week migrate off of shelves and insinuate themselves under chairs and on tables Everywhere. Shake the rugs, wipe the furnishings, scrub the tub and porcelain. Meanwhile I get on the outside of a pot of coffee while i go about these Tasks, and even the dreariest winter morn by then has Brightened perceptively.

A tidy home pays off in many a way. If one dies, and the Police eventually must bust down one's door to retreive one, they will see that this rotting, neglected corpse did indeed keep a cozy hearth.
As well, recently Lycobus had a nauseous of the Nervous Stomach, and while "kneeling at the throne of the porcelain god" and peering weakly into the watery depths between bouts, the pleasantly antiseptic odour of bleach kept her spirits somewhat bouyant in spite of it all. Clean toiletiness is next to goodliness!