By John M. Ford
The worm drives helically through the wood
And does not know the dust left in the bore
Once made the table integral and good;
And suddenly the crystal hits the floor.
Electrons find their paths in subtle ways,
A massless eddy in a trail of smoke;
The names of lovers, light of other days;
Perhaps you will not miss them. That ís the joke.
The universe winds down. That ís how it ís made.
But memory is everything to lose;
Although some of the colors have to fade,
Do not believe you’ll get the chance to choose.
Regret, by definition, comes too late;
Say what you mean. Bear witness. Iterate.
Okay, I’ve finished moving the material from my cross-stitch pattern, home education, relationships and community, and fibromyalgia sites. Woof! Now I just have this site, my portfolio site and Rick’s stub of a site to maintain.
I had a new theme that I really liked for this site, but Google’s search console threw a fit about clickable items being too close together for it to work well on mobile devices, so now there’s a different theme. For now. I’m not too happy with the mobile navigation menu on this theme, because it throws all the pages in one long list instead of showing just the top pages. I’ll deal with it ’til I find something better, though.
I’ve made a little progress in getting more quotes into the database, but it will probably take years to get that back to where it was.