kafkaestblog

I have read that someone contemplating to write a Memoir is aiming at the End Time (my interpretation). I’ve pondered starting on my Memoirs for a few years (I wrote a sample about five years ago – describing how I got my first job). It was kinda fun to do, even if I didn’t come across as being particularly bright – which is how the fellow hiring me obviously felt. Still, it filled the year (and made some money) before I started university.

These days – of course – young folk of fame (even teen-agers) “write” memoirs and have a vast audience for the results. That’s what *fame* can get you. It can also get you over-the-hill at thirty. So far I have been spared.

But, the thing is, I don’t have a great interest in writing a chronological account of my existence. I seem to be more interested in clusters. For instance, I had a recent encounter with a friend of my youth, which made me think of barns. A barn did play an inadvertant part of this friendship. Which led me to think of other barns I have dealth with. I have a sense that dealing with barns in this day and age is not a commonplace. Yet I could tell you stories. Which is wat a memoir really it. A bunch of stories. Stories which I will do my best to keep true.

And I figure that if the stories entertain me, they will entertain a reader. I could be wrong about that, of course. You tell me – do you want stories about barns?

So – so far – I am embarking on barns. Recounting what happened there. What I lkearned. Why the incidents keep in my memory.

I can tell you one thing, though – keep away from chickens.

At least, that is what I was told in two (2) separate phone calls today. From a monotonic voice who berated me for falsly using my Social Insurance Number (yes, SIN), out there somewhere in this great land of ours.

They have been following me – oh, yes they have – and preparing a case to incase me in one of HM Prisons until the flesh rots off my body.

Unless

Unless I put my diseased finger on #1 on my phone to connect to an ‘operative’ who will lead me through a series of directions where, I will not only confirm my SIN number, but also provide any number of other pieces of information to prove who I am. The monotonic voice will not, of course, tell me what any of these deep Government directions will be. I have to press #1.

And – oddly – all this time the voice can not tell me what these directions are, it will also not answer any of my questions. It’s as if they couldn’t hear me. Unless I push #1.

And, it appeared, the second phone call was an exact replica of the first. At least the part I listened to.

But my door is locked and chained and my blinds are drawn. Well . . . not really. But you never know who is reading this.

Source: Mrs. Dunster’s Co-Owners Announce New Vermont-Based Company

{Brush up your weekend} Try this satsuma orange margarita recipe from PBS Food. Satsuma oranges are sweet and seedless, which creates a fragrant cocktail.   . . . 4 fluid ounces Cointreu

Source: Satsuma Orange Margarita

In my novel, “Kafka In The Castle”, I fill in his missing diary entries. He might have not written on these days, but it is more generally believed he just desatroyed them. It is – actually – generally believed he destroyed 70% of all his writings.

However, for his birthday, I gave him an entry which ended with:

03 July 1917

In celebration of the day, I did not make it my last.

All this is to celebrate the NEW release of many of his letters and drawings and creative work, by the National Library of Israel They are no all online..

And I’ll drink to that!

Better the ghosts you know

Who have some interest in you

Know something about you

Some concern

Hopefully

Some kind intent

Than those ghosts

That are on the prowl

Looking for something

Looking for a fight

By giving you a fright.

~DE BA. UE

Try this strawberry mango salsa recipe from PBS Food for a sweet and spicy combination that is great for dipping or over grilled fish or chicken.

Source: Strawberry Mango Salsa

First full day of writing a **normal** “There Was A Time, Oh Pilgrim, When The Stones Were Not So Smooth”. After a year of writing with COVID Interruptus. Alison Alexandra and Amanda dine at the T’ugboat Wharf and Seafood Lounge’ (though the All You Can Eat Beef Buffet is cancelled). Linda has poured them a draft – with perfect foam. It has been (for the author) a year in the waiting. Blessed Be!