2025.04
Morning journal entries from April 2025
Sprout Shoots for Shoes
2025.04.06
Sunday, April 06, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
That comma ⬆️, do we want it there?
A question I often ask.
One day I’ll make an online poll to see what you all think.
It’s friendlier, more like addressing the reader (O/), to keep it there.
Proper punctuation is an agreement of understanding and so a means of expression.
Grammar is a canvas; not a prison.
Well… right to business this morning, where are my manners?
Hiding under Strunk and White’s suggestion book.
Hello. O/
Hope sunrise finds you feeling as fine as you are.
If not drop what’s bringing you down, set down a comma, take a breath, and finish your sentence with an inspirational punto-period.
On with our show...
...
Sunrise shows in songbird song, sure sign of Spring.
Light misty rain always a possibility, echoes the song’s honesty.
How’s the globe where you are?
What season?
Questions to consider of current readers in our Internet Age.
Spring looks like Spring the world over.
The words of my Spring match the words of yours.
It’s only a question of when.
Which as Wynn is what most people call me, is twice true through the pun.
If you understood the pun, it is three times a pun as your understanding makes a win for the ironic power of language.
Irony.
That two separate ideas can make sense in unexpected ways gives us opportunity for poetry and comedy.
It also shows us we can (and do) express more than we’re aware of.
...
The Sun shows at a respectable hour.
Springtime brings Celestial Courteousness.
Mother Nature is ready to grow, to go, to glow green, to make seen life unseen... seen.
Time to sprout shoots for shoes through your dance floor of dirt to grow dancers for the Summertime Ball.
Take care, breathe the air, you made it to Spring, grow your life something wonderful, and make that wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Ask a Ghost to Dance
2025.04.05
Saturday, April 05, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Words and deeds, what feeds us all…
O/ Welcome back.
Sunshine find you yet?
Still on its way here.
Hope it finds you well.
On with the show...
...
Wow. Sometimes, at times, so much wants to be said.
A head on fire with so many dreams calling for a voice.
You start writing. Pick one dream or none, scribble some lines, remember you love this stuff.
"There’s plenty of other things you could be doing."
- Your Honest Friends
You love the work and the wonder of it, the way words weave witness to wishes and daydreams.
The way a song called a sentence sings in mind as your eyes sew the slants and scribbles of syllables into mindful measures.
A dream can touch a dream; a reader can read.
But only if the letters are set down to share.
Set them down. Share them.
Touch a dreamer’s dream with your storied dreams.
Ask a ghost to dance.
The written word shared is the spirit looking for a dance partner.
Thanks for the dance this morning.
...
The Princess Pata Chronicles continue…
Abe has a patch of the yard committed for digging.
He scratches dirt until he reaches the soft soil, tosses some behind him, then lays down on the comfortable mound.
He made his bed; he lies in it.
Yesterday he softly set The Princess down near the patch, scratched a new hole, tossed the soft soil into a mattress, gently lifted Pata with his teeth and set her on the new bed.
He walked his route around the yard, a security officer’s patrol, returned to his own mounded bed, softened the soil with a few scratch marks, walked to The Princess’ house, swept her off her plush paddled feet, placed her in his bed and laid down with her.
Lovers in the springtime grass watching songbirds sing new nests together in oak trees and pines.
A dog daydreams of love at a slow steady pace.
Abe dreams quiet introspective dreams under oaks and pines to find a definition of love suitable for a dog.
Important work, any act is only as meaningful as the meanings we bring to it.
Abe’s wise; he takes his time.
There’s more to life than speeding it up.
Take care, take a breath, prepare your dreams for Spring, and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
Princess Pata
2025.04.04
Friday, April 04, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
Hello. O/
Long sleep happens sometimes.
Extra dreams, extended play, a lot to say.
Good to rest, time for our best.
On with our show.
Abe’s got a new babe.
A squeaky toy duck: Princess Pata.
We know about Abe and his squeaker toys. 🐕
Know he goes right for the squeaker.
Guts the fluff to get to the good stuff.
Pulls the squeaky balloon out and celebrates.
Princess Pata is different. She’s like the others, soft, fluffy, quacks when you squeeze her, but he treats her different.
Picks her up nimbly in his teeth, trots to take her outside, holds her close like a gentleman while he holds the door for her as they walk outside.
He cries for her.
No, really, he does.
He sets Princess Pata down near my feet steps back and whimpers. He’s done it a few times.
Abe’s new at love. He doesn’t know how to let go and give her some space.
“It takes two to make a relationship,” I remind him. “Don’t lose yourself trying to do what’s best for your partner.”
His feelings run deep, though. What could be more important than Love?
“Don’t lose yourself. Make sure you’re getting out what you put in. It’s not Love if you aren’t. It’s servitude.” -Some good friendly been-alive-awhile been-there-done-that advice from me.
Princess is out with friends in the yard. Abe’s back to his calm keep an eye out for BOPs and squirrels duties.
He’s given her his trust.
“You’re not the only one in this relationship whose heart squeaks when you squeeze it, Princess.” He told her.
“Out in the yard, alone with friends, or together alone on the loveseat, let’s make sure we’re good to each other. Let’s take care of each other always.” Abe tells The Princess.
Of course my dog’s a romantic.
Spring is here; Canada sends her geese honking by.
Time for what’s new to start to shine through, for you, for me, for Princess Pata and my romantic dog named Abe.
Take care, watch out for yourself while you care for your loved ones, and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
To Convey You
2025.04.03
Thursday, April 04, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
O/ Hello. \O
Woke up laughing.
I do hope you’ve had at least one dream that’s worth waking in laughter to.
“What was it about, Ghos+?”
- Respectable Reader
“Bathroom humor. I’ll keep it to myself.”
- Respectful Ghos+
Hope all’s well with you.
On with our show...
...
Well timed The Sun starts to show, starts the show.
Sunrise is a day’s introduction music.
It’s a prelude, dude.
Went through some old entries on the site yesterday, fixed a few typos, updated some tags, and changed the header font.
Typos do happen, even with my flexible poet-ish grammar.
The posts are a one-shot thing:
Archaic slab ->Type up -> Disagree with the AI Editor’s suggestions -> Pictures -> Final Edit -> Tag -> Post.
All before/during breakfast.
AI for writing is best kept for after the first draft.
I keep the spell-check, grammar-check, and suggestions off.
They don’t help while drafting.
AI helps us frame a sentence, not write one.
Tell a poet how to shape a sentence and you might as well spit in our face.
To leave the checks and suggestions on as you write gets in the way of the rhythm of the piece. You focus on the correct way to say a thing and not the right way to say it.
Editing is always best done after the writing. They are a separate process.
To leave the checks and suggestions on while you write is to have a nagging teacher watch over your shoulder throwing angry wavy Christmas lights to point out your faults as you go.
Not a helpful happening for your best writing to come out.
Send the nag to the corner, say what you have to say not what others have said, then flip the Christmas lights on.
If they help make your point clearer, if they don’t disrupt the flow of the sentence, thank them and move on.
AI is the help, not the endpoint.
A reader is the destination; a reader is a person.
Suit your readers ear and curiosity best, make reading your work a comfortable enjoyable thing for human ears, not an algorithm... an imagination.
The idea is to get you on the page or the screen, and not who you’re supposed to be.
To convey you, not to convey expectations, to exceed them with your honest originality.
Some writing is dull, but that’s just genre.
You’re as much a part of a piece of technical writing as you are a poem.
Your one rule: Be clear; be clearly you.
Expression and not obedience is the aim of every sentence.
Always.
This rule holds true for AI prompts as well.
What you get back is always the reflection of how much human memory that particular application accesses, and has access to, in their server.
The best algorithms return from a limited catalog of record of humanity’s yesterdays.
The more we add to the internet the more AI’s reflection can tell us about our experience.
A good friend’s advice, one that’s known you for a long time, is always preferable to that of a strangers.
They’re more familiar with your experience of life and so help in a way with your best needs in mind.
A good friend is: A server of information about the world customized to serve you best.
Take care, add some flair, be fair, rhyme because it’s a fun way to say what you got to say, and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
A Color by Letter Wonderland
2025.04.02
Wednesday, April 02, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
How’s the day? O/
Spring fun in the sun?
Work to be done?
Call it fun, get it done, and call it won.
Hope you’re well.
On with our show...
...
What about the place in between?
That space of time from a word set down to that word read.
Do you think these words placed in this place are like seeds in The Earth?
Did they sprout yet?
When you read them are they flowers or only stems?
Full bloom or just pressing through the dirt, their whole life to live?
Perhaps the stage of each word set down depends on the reflection you see.
Can you see the whole tree?
Just a sapling?
I’ve got forests for sentences; whole cities burst to life in each paragraph.
Do you read my intention with your attention?
It’s your expression of my impression you ingest as you read.
I wonder how you read me… what do you see?
I paint as clear an image of each moment as I can.
But my words are a color by letter wonderland for your paint, your brushstroke dreams.
We paint our days with the memories of the colors we see.
Red for me is not red for you.
For the whole spectrum this is true.
My words are the expressions of the colors I sense.
So are yours.
Our imaginations live and breathe and feast on rainbows.
Perhaps one day you’ll share your painting of The World with me.
Because your color red will never look exactly like mine makes the meaning and purpose of Art.
We can never measure the value of color, only experience it and share that experience.
You see and hear (music has color, too) your own color show and call it Life.
You ought to share it sometime.
Take care, realize you paint the air with every sound and stare of every word you choose, see your life is your masterpiece awaiting its weave, weave away and make a wonderful day.
+he Ghos+
To the Fool, from the Ghoul
2025.04.01
Tuesday, April 01, 2025
Good morning, that wonderful way.
¿Que pasa? O/
Feelin’ foolhardy or school smarty… on with our show.
How wise of us to dedicate a holiday to the fool.
Laughter is the best medicine; humor heals the world.
When you can laugh at it you have power over it; you know what it’s up to.
We hear or read a good pun and say, “I see what you did there.”
Puns make the words mean more through their relationships to other words.
A word making a strong pun with another word found a good partner.
They’re great S.O.'s.
They make a whole new possibility of experience and expression for each other.
They improve the quality of Life for each other by making a space for something new.
In the Summer at a barbeque, hot and dog make for a great pair...
Abe on his back on the lawn under a sweltering summer sun, wind cooling his belly.
“That’s one hot dog.”
- Your friend as he uses the processed meat cylinder wrapped in a bun to point to the panting belly-up canine.
“I see what you did there.”
- You with a sardonic Dad joke smile.
“That pun is pretty hot, dawg.”
- You again with a larger sardonic Dad joke smile.
...
Fatherly foolery aside how’s your day?
Unexpected beneficial moments today, reasons to laugh are medicine waiting to be taken.
Do you think dogs laugh?
I do.
I get into that subject at length in another place at another time.
Something for you to consider now, though.
Despite what you might first think, The Fool is actually the most powerful card in The Tarot Deck.
Because you never can tell, (nor can he most times), whether he’ll win or lose, only that life is about taking chances.
Without ever knowing all the details to all things, chances are you’re always being foolish about something, somewhere.
Take care, tell a joke don’t be one, and make a wonderful day.