NeoNote — He would deny it
❝Your desire does not control another's choice.❞— NeoWayland, sexual beings
The Magick of Food
Remember Granpa's old Royal
About a month after my second birthday, Mom married the only man I would call Father. And later, much later, Dad. I was very precocious. A father was a big thing to me and I didn't have one. So I called him Father. It took me years to adjust. It took him years to accept that I was trying to honor him.
Along with Dad, I got three step-sibs, an uncle, some aunts, and another grandfather. Paternal step grandfather. Grandad.
Granpa.
I already had Grandpa and Grandma on my mother's side. But I saw them often. My new Granpa lived in Arkansas. That's a fair distance from Arizona. So I didn't see him as often.
Granpa was a letter writer. He had a well-used old Royal and he would write letters all the time. Getting a letter from him was special. It just felt wonderful. Every time I got one I could just picture him at his typewriter hunting and pecking out the letters.
So of course when it came time to design my sites, I wanted a typewriter font. American Typewriter was my first choice, but the licensing is a little much. Courier worked but not as well. So I used Special Elite from Google Fonts.
I really wanted to use it in my lexicon, but it doesn't play well with other fonts. So I use Courier for the lexicon.
But the quotes from me, the NeoNotes, and now the Taproots entries, all those use Special Elite.
It helps me remember Granpa when I read those. And I want to pass those good feelings on to you..
Journal 19Jan2018
Today
Spring meditations and ramble
Journal 30Jun2017
≠ ✰ pagan festival season AZ monsoon season 🌛 waxing half moon
I spent some time this week with the man that handles Mom's yard work. That's no easy thing. Mom hasn't been able to work in the yard since the accident, but her yard is still amazing. There's no doubt this lady is the daughter of the Gardner, even if she doesn't grown vegetables.Way back when the folks first bought their house, there were fruit trees. What Mom didn't know at the time is that you have to spray fruit trees several times a year to keep them from getting infested. So we had a few glorious months with apples plucked fresh from the tree. And then they got wormy.
Ah well. Mom's yard now is just full of flowerbeds and it feeds her soul.
Mine is much more utilitarian. I don't have her gift with flowers.
Yesterday I made time for the full greet the sun ritual. I'm sure my grandfather wouldn't approved of me doing the nekkid pagan guy thing facing the sunrise, but he is the one who taught me about summer sunrises.
I'm typing this on my patio and one of my neighbor's pigeons is giving me the eye. He thinks I owe him food. He's not one of my raven friends, he doesn't get any.
I think I need some breakfast.
Before this Year ends
❝The simple answer is that moral responsibility is always a personal choice. You can't compel virtue or it ceases to be virtue.❞
— NeoWayland