Not counting the title

Do you Dear Reader remember the episode of Gilligan's Island in which Gilligan finds a crate of seeds? The experimental radioactive seeds? Yeah, that one. And all the funky produce that those seeds, well, produced? I was reminded of that episode yesterday. Granted, it is a small cherry tomato. And it is a big blueberry. But the juxtaposition! Oh the juxtaposition!

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but this one gets just seventy-five.

PG3488.O4

Finally. Incidentally. A post. Two. Precisely. Chop. Chop. Fine dice. Snake eyes. Baseball? Tomorrow. I started scoring the games I attend. Well, so far, one game. I indulged my metaself and tracked each pitch. It hurt. But in a good way. Back to where I began. This post. Not the end of the fourteenth when I was born. A technicality to be sure. But still. Lazy summers lend themselves to, well, lazing. That's the real reason I have not written lately. I'd like to say it was a quick pick-up game of cyberspace chicken, but I cannot. Though it sounds crispy enough. One of the very best books I have ever read is One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. It should be one of the very best books you have ever read as well Dear Reader. I know I should stop shoulding on others, but, please make an exception here. Pretty please. Mr. Solzhenitsyn (correctly, Solzhenit︠s︡yn, Aleksandr Isaevich, ǂd 1918-2008) passed away a few days ago. (And the year of death has already been added to his authority record!) From his Nobel Lecture:

Одно слово правды весь мир перетянет.

It means something. It does. "One word of truth outweighs the world." A great big font is justified. I'll leave it at that.