Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its seventh year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

October 12, 2013

MYSTERIOUS BLUE DOT

... liz asked if i'd help her find some "mciver stuff" at the hardware store, after which she treated me to a meal from wendy's ... while we were sitting in my living room she looked up and commented, "dad, there's a big blue dot on your ceiling" ... she climbed atop a chair to investigate ...

... there was a kind of hushed sucking noise, like the sound that comes when a small child hides within an old wooden wardrobe in an english country house, and my dear elizabeth just sort of disappeared ... 

... all that remained of my sweet little girl was her socks and, softly echoing down from the ceiling, a very faint giggling, "i don't think this is going to take me to kansas" ...

... i'm not worried, i'm sure there's another blue dot somewhere out along the martin stream road ... if not, well, i guess she's smart enough to follow a hobbit home ...

TWO PATRICKS

 ... baby patrick, circa 1952 ... at that age, and with pa in the service, i don't think i would have had my own passport, but i'll bet that this photograph was attached to some sort of official document necessary for me to get into the united states after being born in japan ... even then, my hair was a mess, and, if you'll notice, t'was i who began the "hoody" fashion fad ...

... fifty some years later, my uncle vernon and i went into the duty free shop to look at watches ... he wearing his trusty timex and me with a $34 casio waterproof digital on my wrist, we both tried on a $78,000 patek philippe from switzerland ...


... the saleslady said, "this is the finest timepiece in the world" ... i asked, "okay, i'll bite, but does it tell time more accurately than my uncle's timex" ... "oh, this watch has a solid gold case, it takes the company over a year to build a single watch" ... "so ... so that would be a 'no' to my question, right" ... still, i'll admit, the band made of gold thread woven like fabric was exquisite ... this, you realize, is a watch that you have to wind every day, crafted for people who employ others to handle such mundane chores ... [sigh] ... and, yes, my hair's gotten a tiny bit lighter ...