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It is warmer today than in the recent past,* enough to open the doors a bit and let in some fresh air. I am enjoying a glass of iced tea, which shines brilliant with the incoming sunshine. Harper is a-snoozing on the yet-to-be-made bed. It is rawther pleasant. Today I was going to write something ‘psychological’ or thoughtful but the clement weather seems to say just enjoy the day and think (and write) erudite thoughts later this week. Today’s entry therefore is of no real news or of great importance. Spo

Speaking of writing, I recently found an essay I wrote in 1981, in college for an English class for a final exam. I got a 96.5 rating and an A+. I probably kept is more for the simple closing comment the teacher wrote in red ink at the end:

A very nice, full, ordered answer [to the exam question]!

It is amazing how a little compliment can do so much good to one’s esteem. While I did not become a professor or a professional writer as I thought then I would, I continue to write and pride myself on my prose. Thank you Professor Brono.

This composition was located in a large brown envelope, the sort attorneys used to keep for filing cases. In it are pictures I drew and some report cards, and my admission letter to undergraduate school. I plan to go through it all, and remember. It will make a good blog entry too, I reckon, provided it isn’t too maudlin.

Tomorrow is our anniversary, which I just calculated as #25, for we met in 1997.** Patience above!. 31 January is a very inconvenient day of an anniversary, especially this year as it falls on Monday and covid19 running amok). I wonder if Someone will actually remember. Other than acknowledging it is, I daresay nothing will happen tomorrow; it will be ‘business as usual’. In a way, ‘business as usual’ isn’t a bad way to commemorate twenty-five years of being with somebody. You go about your day, nodding a bit, at the amazement it managed to happen at all.

I may take a nap today; when in doubt, get horizontal. The iced-tea I mentioned may mar that endeavor, so I may get out my Christmas prize I received from SIL #2 and see how it is played. It is called Hnefatafl (say that three times fast!), a chess-like game played by the Vikings. The goal of the game is one side is trying to get its king from the center to a safe-haven corner, while the opponent is trying to prevent just that. There are a few instructional videos on The Tube of Yous. The instructors all look like Vikings themselves. I’d ask The Board of Directors Here at Spo-reflections to teach me, but they tend to make up things as they go along and most of them are sore losers. They also tend to play for high stakes***, so I better be ready if ever I challenge one of them to a game. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Hnefatafl isn’t learned in a day neither. If any Spo-fans know how to play “H”, I would be glad to set up as virtual game board with you and give it a try.

*21C, for thems interested.

**We met while staying at the same resort, in Key West Fl, at the social hour, over wine and nibbles. That is happened that day and neither one of us was looking for such are the only two things for which there is agreement what happened. The details and chain of events of what happened afterwards is an example of “The Rashomon Effect’. Naturally, both of us believe our version is correct.

***Swords, cattle, body parts, and lately, Bitcoin.

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January 2022

Spo-Reflections 2006-2018