An introduction of sorts.

There's a witticism- has the full 6 pack but lacks the "plastic thingy" to keep it together. That is what I feel like, only more. I feel like I was a box filled with small objects, like little toy cars, all neatly wrapped up in packaging, and just before loading me onto the truck, some fool opened the box and looked inside, but forgot to tape the box closed. Under normal circumstances that isn't a huge problem- someone finds out when the truck arrives, and tapes the box closed again. The human circumstance, however, is far from normal. In the case of the metaphorical box- the door of the truck didn't latch correctly. The truck began its journey, box enclosed with many of its compatriots, and travelled down a rarely used stretch of highway. Rarely used stretches of highway being somewhat infrequently travelled are even less frequently maintained, resulting in a bumpy surface at best. The vibrations from the uneven pavement cause the truck door to shimmy slowly skyward. The sudden flinch of the vehicle as it finds another painful divet in the road causes the box to tumble groundward, scattering its contents as the unknowing abandoner flees down the desolate road. Small toy cars riotously scatter across the asphalt, tumbling from their packaging and lying gleaming in the sun, but strewn about the road. Some are perfect, some have small scrapes and scars from the friction of the stone beneath them, and some have been destroyed altogether by the force of their fall. They sit unsure of what the future holds, but awaiting their fate nonetheless. Will passersby notice them? Will they care? Think of the possibilities- a small child walking his or her dog passes and young eyes alight upon a wealth of untold measure. Or maybe not. Maybe instead another truck passes, crushing the cars. Maybe a similar box slips from a different truck. A collector could happen upon the cars. Or a salesman, taking them to sell to others, or a grandmother sees a source of joy for her grandchildren. This is where I am. Some pieces tarnished, some broken beyond all repair, but most still gleaming. I sit on my deserted length of highway knowledgeless as to my location in respect to everything else and waiting to discover my fate.


This little eddy in the blogstream is where I exist, and as such it will follow the exploits of both myself, and the gnome. Here I shall chronicle my knitting, learning to play the guitar, photography, my wrocking, and whatever other journeys I happen to undertake and choose to share.