I am a different person now. Different but not profoundly different. Can old dogs become profoundly different? One year ago I was still working with no immediate plans for retirement. That is a kind way of putting it. I had a dread of retirement and had my head buried in the sand regarding it. So this time last year, I was on vacation--well vacation from the plant sitting on porchville--not on vacation like sitting on a beach or ♥ing some place like the various state or province travel bureaus would have me do. So a year ago, porchville was rather finite and measured in days. Now porchville has something of an approaching infinity quality to it. Not really of course, it will be measured in decades, I hope. I am shooting for three with a few years tossed on, which would give me roughly 33% of my life left. I used to have this self imposed actuarial date of 80, just used as a rough guideline for a time to checkout--no firm plans. Well I am not sure I like the math:
62 / 80 = .775 X 100 = 77.5% life gone... 100% - 77.5% = 22.5% life remaining.
For planning purposes, I really like 90+ something better than 80. Ugghhhhh! All this actuarial horseshit has such a finite air about it. I think I prefer a diaphanous approaching of almost infinity. Not infinite mind you, just vaguely approaching an almost state.
I have looked back over the posts for the past year to see if I could find something really nostalgic. Not really. Provocative? Not really? Mind expanding? No. Entertaining and edifying? I doubt it. Navigating The Finite is pretty much a site where one can rapidly view Bernini's The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa of Avila and not get a virus. The posts are way too long and usually about subjects that nobody gives a shit about...except me.
In my first post I warned you that this was written for me, not the reader. The warning stands. All I can say is that the past year has more or less proved in stark terms that the warning was less of warning and more of a prediction. So why do this? Hardly anyone reads it. Why do people keep journals? Why do they keep scrapbooks? Who looks at that stuff? Well this is my journal, my scrapbook, my work of art. It keeps me occupied, out of my wife's hair, off the streets, and out of the bars. I do have a couple of readers, and they are as precious as gold to me. If you find something of interest, learn something, find a moment of humor, or think "wow that is a really cool idea" then this has been a grand success. If not, you can find Saint Teresa here:
Navigating The Finite, St Teresa of Avila
"Happy anniversary, St Teresa."
"Happy anniversary, Sextant."
|The Question Mark Butterfly|
Oh I forgot, yesterday during a Fourth of July picnic at my mother-in-law's place, I got a very good look at a butterfly called the question mark, Polygonia interrogationis. I haven't seen one since I was a kid, not that they are all that rare, I just haven't been looking. It sat for several hours on a low spruce branch and we had a very good look at it. Of course, I did not bring my camera. The photos here are from the web site linked on to the scientific name. The butterfly gets it name from the small silver question mark located in the center of the bottom of the hind wing. See bottom photo.
|Note the silvery question mark in the center of the hind wing.|
Butterflies and Moths of North America