I missed a blog post.
I was going to give you a decadent piece about the evolution of pens from 1850 to 1950, but, due to circumstances beyond my control, I can't. The truth is, in this modern age of technology and civilization, most people don't have high speed internet. 81% of Americans use the internet, but in many states only half the population have any internet at all. I live in one of the most interneted states in the country...but I think this is a myth spread about by the general populace, because it happens to be my state's only claim to fame. Presently, I'm in the percentage of people who are paying for internet, but aren't getting anything for their money. Or precious little, anyway.
I'll post this, but I can't upload any pictures or do any surfing of the web. In short, I am forced to bore you to death with picture-less ramblings.
In conclusion, I am going to present you with a peace offering in the form of a completely unrelated poem which I wrote this past summer after a face-to-face encounter with a garter snake. Hopefully it won't leave you gnashing your teeth.
A Rhyme Concerning a Snake
I saw a little snake today
While walking across the grass
He looked at me with curiosity
Then trickled away at last
With shining jewel-like eyes, and scales
Like shadow-patterns in the grass,
He watched me, and I watched him
As if on either side of glass
We studied each other like at a zoo
Only, whether it was me, or him
Or both of us, behind the glass
I don’t really think we knew.
