How’s that for an ironic expression. Never mind. Never mind the fact even the smallest achievements don’t get recognition. Never mind the fact projects fall through, people get sick, you get sick or so tired you don’t care about much except getting to bed. Never mind you’ll spend an ungodly number of hours fixing stuff that won’t work anyway. Or offering services nobody wants. Or writing stuff that doesn’t make it all the way across the river.
A funny moment (tiny? everything’s tiny right now): while a glum-faced child struggled with the drawing she didn’t want to do, I leafed through a comic book of the Bob et Bobette series of old. A character astride a dinosaur, crossing a log structure above a chasm. The logs break, of course. The character awaits rescue while the dinosaur bridges the void, using its snout at one end and its tail at the other. Miss Glum-Face interrupted me before I could find out how the dinosaur got out of the fix – the character, being a main figure, was bound to get saved, one way or another.
These are not the most exciting and thrilling times in my life. Never mind, never mind. I have a chin hold at one end and a toe-hold at the other.
A gorgeous expanse of sky on the NASA pic of the day. With a gorgeous Persian proverb to go with it. The view isn’t as inspiring when you stare into a white board in an institutional setting. At your side, a boy not getting the fact 237 cm is the same as 2 m 37. Until he gets it, and looks at you as if you were a dummy for wasting an hour of his time on something so obvious.
Allez? Eh oui.
A writer's notebook 