Reaching Up

The world just keeps on telling me
That if I could reach up high
I'd touch my dreams like they were clouds
In the beautiful blue sky.

And though I try to believe them
I'm finding that by and by
My arm just isn't long enough
To be reaching up that high.

And I'm reaching up
And I'm reaching up
But all I'm feeling is air
My dreams are slowly dissipating
Not like I was anticipating
Just when I began to care.

I'm seeing a man dressed in rags
His bare feet leave drops of blood;
I see that in his hands and feet
Are the nails that drew this flood

He's reaching out and he's calling
"Oh, won't you follow me, too?
The road is hard and long and rough,
But I'll be right beside you."

And I'm reaching out
And I'm reaching out
And I feel his hand in mine
My dreams are slowly dissipating
Just as I was anticipating
And I don't really mind....

(C) copyright January 2011 - Curious Cognitive Content (CCC)


On cannibal mice and dumpster sleds

Both are in our garage right now.

Our garage pets, as we fondly call our mice, have been known to swipe the peanut butter from the mouse traps without triggering the mechanism that shuts on their tails. We are very proud at the skill of our pets, as they constantly risk their lives for a scanty portion of food.

Sometimes, however, one of our pets gets careless. Then there is a mouse carcass, a blood spattered mass of fur. Although we try to dump these carcasses as soon as they appear, there are those nights that we can not get to it. And this is where the mystery begins.

The garage doors are shut, and the window is closed. And on one side of the garage and one side only, the mouse carcass is slowly consumed. The next morning, we find half a mouse, and if we leave over night again, the entire mouse is gone. But if the carcass is on the other side of the garage, the carnivore does not seem to consider it worth the effort.

And thus our conclusion was this: we are experiencing an invasion of cannibal mice.

The dumpster also sits in our garage. It is very smelly like most garbage dumpster, and looks like a large black rectangle standing vertically upright on the ground. In the back of it are two good-sized wheels, used for wheeling it down the driveway come garbage day. At least, there used to be two wheels.

One of these wheels must have been disgusted with its job. Not too long ago, my brother was wheeling the dumpster down the driveway when a wheel popped off and would not stay on. We found that if we kicked it back on its axle every five seconds on its trip down the driveway, it tended to be fairly usable.

Gradually, it grew looser and looser, until one day, it decided to fall off just as the garbage truck came around, and our obliging trash-guys decided to take our wheel along with our other garbage.

Then my brother had to unicycle our dumpster down the drive way. I can only imagine that he found it hard, as wheeling a heavy, smelly thing down a long drive way on one wheel, seems to imply that the majority of the weight and smell was on him - not the wheel. Perhaps that is why he did not seem too upset when that wheel fell off also.

Now we have a dumpster sled. My brother still employs the last wheel when necessary, but he stores this wheel in the garage so that no one can mistake it for garbage. So maybe, just maybe, the garbage collector will have pity on us and give us a new dumpster soon....



This is the start of a New Year - and consequently, a day with a cool numerical pattern. But besides the numerical pattern of 1/1/11 (which will be beaten by 11/11/11 sometime this year), nothing else seems to have changed.

New Years Eve has always been slightly disappointing to me. In the US, people sit up until past midnight, drinking alcohol at loud parties, so they can usher in the new year with a horrible headache and blasted ear-drums. They watch a crystal ball slooowwwly descend on a pole, and think this is the best thing that has happened to them all year.

Now it is the first day of 2011. The economy is still bad, wars are still happening, and my bedroom is still a mess. The sun rose like it did every day of 2010, and the snow outside is melting. What has changed?

Nothing has changed. And therein lies a miracle. Why has the sun not stopped shining? Why do we still associate snow with winter and warmth with summer, as we have for centuries? Why is my heart still beating this morning? Human beings are so fragile. Life is so short. Why am I still alive?

"...[I]n these last days he [God] has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power..." (Hebrews 1:2 - 3).

And my knowledge of the Gospel - that Jesus died to save the sinner that rebelled against him, and that he rose to show that we are saved indeed - my knowledge of this wondrous Love will make me want to change the way I live this New Year.

And thus my resolutions will not be based on the changing of one digit in the number we use to measure years, nor on my past grievances I wish to fix, but on the Love that Jesus had for me, and the love I have in return.

Happy New Year!