Enga mellom fjella

Midnight in the land of Poppies

ME:

It's ringing in the new day here. I can here the whoops of the local partiers.

Me? I'm just happy to be sitting at my desk that I managed to maneuver into place. Nothing quite fits, so I'm waiting to work on that part tomorrow. I live in a smallish space ...and that's a-okay. I only fill up larger spaces and this is large enough if I unclutter, organize and toss (= free-cycle).

I went to "King's Speech" tonight ...free at the library. I thoroughly enjoyed the humor and the focused writing. It worked best as an intimate vignette.

5 after 12. I'm still here. The rapture is scheduled when? At least my phone bill is paid.

Poor Mr. Camping. He's 89. My mother is 89. If you were 89 would you rather be dying or raptured? Dying can be painful, even if death isn't. Who wants pain? Poppies...

Poppies grow well here, although most use medical marijuana for pain. Still, morphine has its uses.

So I'll call my mother tomorrow, my aunt by Sunday. We-all are too sinful or self-righteous to be raptured in my family.

As for the date... interesting choice. The evening of May 22nd will be the 167th commemoration of The Bab's announcement to the world (Persia, 1844); his followers were known as Babis and then because he said there was One who would soon follow him most accepted Baha'u'llah and became Baha'is (April, 1863, Baghdad). Mr. Camping may be good with the date but slightly off with the year.

In either case, I'm not stressing. I figure I'm out-of-here sooner or later.

Ciao ...

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