The Coffee Guy's blog

The Steep, Deep, and Trees Guide

A precipitous drop need not be intimidating.  Depth can always be measured in leagues.  Coniferous wells should be avoided.  After all, perspective means everything.  Once mired in the morass of mountains, everything appears steep, deep, and treed.  Such becomes the environs, hence the penchant for plying that terrain.

Thus, if your pursuit posits your posture, press on, push forth, ply your trade, pick your battles.  Down is just a direction, the resistance to said obviality makes your ability easy.  The steeper it is, the easier to turn.  So, when I opt to the steep, its only a cuz’n I am lazy! 

The depth requires a push to overcome, it is like a barrier.  Whilst fluffy and soft, if enough is amassed afore you, it can be that which stilts your movement.  Slow, steady and measured.  Whisps of the dust of cold swishing past as an airy wave of ice.  Nothing nicer than being restricted by nature.  Again, this slow motion can only mean one thing: I am lazy.

The cellulose-based barriers bounding areas and belittling my stature are stationary.  In winter, stagnant and unwavering.  Softly adorned with needle-like vestments, offering a free combing with each passing.  S2now snakes are the offspring of these denizens, drunkenly squandering energy in a season long fishing expedition of skis and boots.  The wary eyed schusser always on the watch for the line indicating a fishing expedition.  And yet again, I avoid these because in am lazy.

Briefly, the laziest search the Steep, Deep, and Trees.

Cool it with some cream today Connie, white it will be.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.

Dentists, Dentes, Redemption, and Resurrection

The art of oral eradication of one or more Dente, requires a finesse I could not muster.  I can at the best hold my own in the chair.  The pleasantries and patter are not enough for my nature. 

I have unsewn, unstitched and pulled all but two of the sutures threaded into my outer membrane.  Thankfully these most recent are dissolvable.  Using a mirror to pull them is an unforgivable experience.  I did 18 once.

In modern times these are specialists.   In those of yore, they were masters of none.  The apothecarist was also the extractor, barrister, and trader.  Today they do not allow the alcoholic daze to numb the gums.  Its swabs, or needles, or a gaseous substance, to make you as unaware as you can afford. 

I recall as a child pulling quills from the Porky Pine out of our dog’s snout.  We used ether in a bread bag over his head at first.  He awoke no the wiser; he did it again.  Ah the bush life.  Our current social porosity allows for the exemption of these tribulations.  We manifest our lives bisected into private and personal.  Wouldst I post a pic?  Would I describe in detail, adjure your comment and pixelization of my subjugation to pain?  NOPE!

We have deemed the necessary as unimportant and the trite as indispensable.  The cross pollination of these ideas has become the flowers of our lives.  The crop shorn short, the lowest common denominator.  The global calculation of our existence depends on the smallest clue. 

With the flourishing development of more and less interesting ways of excelling and exceeding expectations.  Great Expectations is a tome.  Our expectations are a snippet.

Disembogue the filtered nectar destiny, I like the flow.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.

A Muse in C, D, and E Major

The C and the Corinth are both standards.  Strong, original, and of integrity.  I can start elsewhere, however it must all begin here.  Ideas arise from the interplay of basic tenets.  Diversion arises from the crossplay of ideas bounced and rebounded from a Muse.  I am sure in Ancient Greece each Muse mustered when hailed.

Outcomes may vary regardless of the starting point.  On treks to the hinterland the routes may vary.  Origin and development use different goals and objectives arriving at dissimilar yet surprisingly related accomplishments.  Once set on, the paths may vary at nodes and forks, junctures and cruxes.

It is not my definition to have ideas, it is my destiny to bring them forth as my Muse posits perturbations for me to ponder.  These meetings come too infrequently a times and timely at times.  What kernel needs planting, seed needs sewing, or germ needs promotion?  Each time I near the end another yaw in the ship of my mind swings me in another direction.

Dakar, the destination, as a Muse.  Otherwise, thoughts are oft arrived at from the end.  If you have a realization to which an explanation ought to be attached, your Muse may enlighten you.  Paris – Dakar A rally like no other.  It has a known destination, the Muse will spirit the how.  Whence you travel through sand and water, deep and steep, it will not be an easy excursion.  Trouble abounds simply in the obstacles and the terrain. 

My Dakar Muse provides the end, the trials and tribulations are mine.  Many times, a start is unknown.  How to get from some where to there?  How to arrive at your destination not knowing from where to begin?  It can be a situation where the problem is unknown or obfuscated by the obvious.   Or so close to your ocular organs its hard to see.

In the Key of E, everything has an equilibrium eventually.  As I muse about my Muse, eloquence and elegance elates me.  Even further to the truth about being everything to everyone every time.  E types are everywhere, one I wish was in my garage, and one I have.  Exasperation is not far afield.

In the end, the keys are key.  I enjoy the C, D, and E’s.  Off note or on key, the ability to stimulate thought and ideas is a cherished place to hold court.  I muster daily for the strength to use that which is near, to make that which is further, closer.

Make Music as you pour Milly, I like the sounds of Java in the morning.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.