Weekly Dispatch 03/2017

It’s grant proposal and thesis proposal writing time. I’m a full time Word document on the go. The news makes me feel like a Pterodactyl or Pteranodon. All of a sudden I’ll just break out into a spontaneous screech, something like this:

It’s the primal screech of I have zero effs to give, I gotta get stuff done, and the distraction of the big orange turd screwing us all makes me dig my claws in. Now that the flight/fight has calmed down to a manageable level I can clear my head for other important things. Like getting my research to and through the next stage/step/challenge.  Right now I’m surfing on the tide of intuition like a starling in a mumuration. It would be more fun if my body wasn’t feeling stiff and slouchy from all the typing and head dragging.

I’m indulging in the guilty pleasure of free Kindle books. The good ones are like candy. You can swirl them around without even thinking. You can step out of our world, and into another, and then pop right back in where you started without missing a beat. Taking the brain to another place for just a little while. It’s better than meditation for me.

Polar Bear, Pteronodon, Otter, The worlds in books when time stands still, sacred elixirs… Could this all be a blessing in a disguise? The final push to the other side? I think it might be the journey… is the destination…

2017 Movement:  41.04 miles total
Walking: 34.02 miles
Hiking/Snowshoeing: 5.77 miles
Snow bike: 1.25 m

The Magicians Season 2
The Expanse Season 2




Rachelle Ferrell

4 February – Extracted by RR Haywood (Fiction)
1 February – Romancing the Null by Tina Gower (Fiction)


Only crime and the criminal, it is true, confront us with the perplexity of radical evil, but only the hypocrite is really rotten to the core. – Hannah Arendt

Find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain. – Joseph Campbell

They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither safety or liberty. – Benjamin Franklin

With silent lips. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send those, the homeless, tempest tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door. – Emma Lazurus

I am not free when any woman is unfree, even if her shackles are very different from my own. – Audre Lorde