The Beviad–musings, mutterings and myths

My son-in-law, Jeff, tells me that when people access my blog, they see a heading with my blog’s name and a little square of letters spelling ‘art.’ And no ad obscuring anything! This is quite a revelation, and only goes to show how old our iMac is. All I see when I access my blog is a blank space above the message, and a square of white with an ad on it. Jeff says that the latter is to one side when he looks at my blog. So, I guess my comments about an ad obscuring things must have seemed puzzling to anyone trying to read it, right? Jeff says to get a new search engine like Foxfire. I’ll leave that to John to do tomorrow….

Why is it that every post is partially obscured by an ad??? I don’t mind sharing my space with an ad, but why do they have to occupy the same space? I tried yesterday to fool the system by posting a blog that was one line after another, with five spaces betwen lines, so as to take up space—the space that is obscured by the ad–and then gave my actual blog. No matter: the Powers that Control the Blogosphere posted my blog with those lines all squished together anyway, while still managing to have the ad artfully obscuring the blog. As far as I can see, the only way to read any bog entry is to read it the day after it is posted, when the ad is obscuring the most recent blog entry. This posting is an attempt to fill up some space to get past the ad. Will it work? Wait and see…..

Awakened today at 4 so as to see the sunrise. Up the hill we went to the lookout,past the beautiful stone homes with their extraordinary lighting– quite ghostly in the predawn light– to the top, where the birdsong was quite amazing, and the city of Montreal was spread out below us, streetlights still twinkling. It was damn cold, although clear and beautiful. I had my rose shawl, Paze had a red blanket from the car trunk. John shivered in shorts and jacket. Still, we drank hot, sweet coffee and waited until we could see the orb of the sun in its entirety through the tree tops to the east. Then we hopped back in the car and came home to have Paze’s hot blueberry scones with butter, plus more coffee. We didn’t dance naked, and no maidens were sacrificed. Nor were there any invocations to the sun or any other such pagan thing. A group hug as the sun rose was as far as we went: we’re WASPs, after all. We all had different music in our heads for a soundtrack. For me, “Morning Has Broken”a la Donovan; for Paze, the morning part of the Peer Gynt suite (the one that’s been in constant cartoons every time a sun rises); for John, the sunrise section of ‘Daphnis and Cloe’ by Ravel, which he played for us when we got back to the nice warm house. Happy Solstice, everyone!