One Harebrained Scheme after another

My life is about one harebrained scheme after another. Nothing ever turns out right for me because I have global dyslexia.

In my journey these past few years from here to Ohio, to Texas, and to California, I have lived in tents and lived in mansions -- but nothing really happened. And I haven't exactly risen up in the world -- it seems I mostly move sideways.

It looks like I am right back where I started from -- with this one very large improvement, because I no longer live in the insular, incestuous village of LaConner (pop. 800) but enjoy the spacious air out on Beaver Marsh Road, among farm-fields.

Out here, I am not aggravated and do not return the the favor. It's better. I visit LaConner almost every day. It's only five miles away, but, if you may have noticed, I write nothing about the town in this blog.

The petty feuds bore me, the arts are not interesting, there is a ban on music and dancing -- not an official ban -- but I only see the dullness of older people sitting on oak benches besides potted geraniums. There is simply nothing to write about in LaConner.

Maybe that's good, because it's still a great town for raising children, and nothing else matters nearly as much.