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It Was A Plot!

It was a plot!  The wireless at the library and the computer gremlins conspired to make sure that I had difficulty trying to post anything yesterday.  I finally managed to post an out-of-order sign and the leave the library.

Once I left the library, the Gods conspired to make sure I got caught in the heavy rain Saturday afternoon.  They had made sure I got caught in the heavy rain Friday night.  And they made sure I got caught in the heavy rain this morning.   Will this be a daily amusement for them?

So, I was in a most foul mood when I went to my parents’ grave yesterday after it stopped raining.  I went to honor my father’s birthday June 18th.

I stood at the grave and remembered my Mommy and my Daddy. I didn’t cry, but sometime during the memories my most foul mood left. I don’t know where it went.  My parents’ plot undid the effects of the plot by the library Internet, computer gremlins and the Gods.  I left the cemetery feeling peaceful.




I love books!  I love discovering things through books!  I love when a plot twist takes me by surprise!  The last thing I want is to have a story spoiled by knowing what is going to happen before I discover it on my own.

I just finished Evelyn Waugh’s A Handful of Dust.  I enjoyed it!   The Introduction to this novel would have ruined my enjoyment if I had read it before reading the novel.  Professor Robert Murray Davis, who wrote the introduction,  gave away the plot!  Why did he do this?  Is he so wrapped up in his academic world that he does not see how he spoils the surprise by revealing the plot?  Could he not have written an Afterword revealing the plot and discussing it?

After having several classic novels spoiled by those who wrote the introductions to them, I wait until after I have read the novel before reading the introduction.  That way I experience the surprises while discovering the story on my own.

Did I mention how much I love books?

There is no Frigate like a Book  
To take us Lands away,  
  Nor any Coursers like a Page  
Of prancing Poetry –   
        This Traverse may the poorest take         
    Without oppress of Toll –   
How frugal is the Chariot  
  That bears a Human soul.
                - Emily Dickinson


If my life was a novel, then I would not have to worry about experiencing the uneventful and tiresome details.  Notice how the chapter ends, in a novel, just when the protagonist is about to experience tedious details.  The next chapter begins with these details over.   Between the space at the end of the chapter and the beginning of the next, the protagonist lived through the uneventful.   Reading about he or she doing so would grind the story to a halt.  The next chapter advances the plot with some exciting, meaningful experience, and no tiresome details.

How often has my life been ground to a halt because I could not skip the uneventful?   I know that my attitude is the problem.  If I approached life with the wonder of a child, then nothing would be tiresome and everything an adventure.  I like to lead people to believe I live this way all the time, but I do not.  Sometimes I am not quick to get up when I get knocked down.  I stay down and mope.

It is when I am moping that I wish that my life was a novel.   Finding the strength to change my attitude and get up would not be a problem.  The author would do it for me.  The author would pick me up, between chapters, by sparing me the colorless, blah, bland, boring, dull, dreary, dry, ho-hum, humdrum, mundane, monotonous, mind-numbing, soul-destroying, stale, tedious, tiresome, uninteresting, uninspiring, unexciting, details of my life.   And all of us would live happily ever after.