insert record of Easter Sunday four leaf clover finding HERE.

Pics to follow. Stuck in the phone.

Rattling my philosiphies of life.

At least how they relate to the sport of four leaf hunting. I have enlisted the help of my two young girls and have begun training them to seek them out. It has been raining a lot and with the lawnmower still broken I have been taking advantage of the opportunity to search through the jungles of clover that have cropped up over the last few weeks. We expect to receive a complaint from the city any day now, but in the meantime the growth is lush and I have no complaints whatsoever. I could continue searching, and what a treasure it would be to find something grown as large as these! Growing ankle high and tall end dense enough to hide small rabbits as they graze (though not hidden well enough to escape the jaws of young Timmy, I am afraid). Still, the inevitability of the chore of cutting down this growth to the acceptable height as indicated by city ordinances adds a sense of urgency to the search, leaching out all pleasurable aspects of it.

Today is a good day, in between bouts of rain and hot weather so I brought the girls outside with me to try to clear up some of this jungle mess. Leave the mowing to another member of the family, but at least we can clear some weeds from our neglected flowerbeds in preparation for some sort of intentional growth. We got to work. The earth was soft. Bugs crawled out. Good bugs. As I worked I focused in on the spaces of earth that were just growing before my eyes as I pulled out rocks and leaves and tossed it all aside. I was surprised to find exposed a single clover, who just narrowly escaped my deadly grip. This single clover had four leaves on it! I called the girls over to see, and gently plucked it and brought it inside. I am beginning to wonder though, what exactly is the purpose of the plucking? It feels so violating and wrong these days. Where do I need to carry it to? How could I do such a thing without considering the consequences or have the tiniest inkling of a plan for its demise? I rushed it inside, thinking that the deed had been done, and at the very least I could prevent it from being trampled or blown away while I think about the future of today's find.

As I am getting back to the business of weed pulling and herding children, bug saving and dandelion blowing, I am perplexed by this nagging feeling that things are different just now. This is not at all how it happens or how I feel. This is not a great trophy or accomplishment. This was the senseless murder of a helpless four leaved plant for the purpose of my own sick sense of pleasure and pride. Above all else this represents how today my philosophies of life and how they relate to the art of four leaf clover hunting have been compromised. You see, this clover I found today, I did not search for it. It appeared. It surprised. How can I find in life these things I do not search for? How serendipitous should I expect all other aspects of my life to be? Is this a fluke, or a sign of change? A catalyst to usher in the shift of the energies that rule my universe out of my own two hands and back into the hands of fate? Is my life no longer under my own control?

I may just take a break from the search. May just let fate hold the wheel for a while. We'll see how it goes.

In the meantime I found a lovely resting spot for today's clover.

..includes Saturday, April 11

I actually thought I was jinxed. Either it was the fiver or maybe going public but I was really worried. Went "camping" for a night in Carlyle bur everything was waterlogged or torn up from the two days rain. Searched and didn't expect anything. But I did. All's well. Back to normal.

Oh, I forgot to mention that the clover posted was actually found the day before entry was posted.

Lucid dreaming in the afternoon

Just nap-dreamt about a small secret society who used mirrors and water as tools to time travel and inhabit the bodies of cats in order to solve mysteries. In this episode, someone follows out of curiosity who happened to be present at the destined past. Realizing what was going on, he slinks in for a closer look and inadvertently changes history by distracting his friend and preventing his death from the runaway train that crashes into the garage. His Friend appears in the future as an old man released from a prison, relishing in the joys of the future and bicycles and children. Oddly, the time lapsed for these characters was from an untainted youth to teenhood, and why the victim returned aged so I cannot understand.

We celebrated by a quick jaunt to the sixties to shop for dinnerware.

The Haunting of Molly Hartley

...or whatever that was. Well, that was supremely disappointing. Not a bit scary, ridiculous costuming, and an ending that totally deflated what could almost have been a decent plot. Nice brainchild, but would have been better in different hands.



*note to producer(s)*



Dressing teenagers in schoolgirl outfits inspired by pulp fiction novels does not give your poorly written "thriller" that little extra bit of spice. Were you expecting that boost of endorphins from the early twenties male demographic to be mistaken for fear if you add one of those quick and dirty flashes of creepiness in the mirror with a Jasonesque singsong screech snuck into the score? Way to half assedly build a string of supporting roles only to pick an ending out of a hat. "Well, that character doesn't work with this ending. We'll just pretend nothing happened... That girl? I guess she just disappears. We really don't need more material at this point. This zit has already been popped."

If I was an eighteen year old boy looking for a sexed up, "I'll hold you if you get scared honey" sort of date movie with a freshman that swears she won't tell her parents, then sure. But for a real scare, I wouldn't even take my four year old. Who by the way, already thinks Poltergeist is the best scary movie. So fellas, if y'all need advice on the next one, I am sure she would be available for consultation.