Wednesday, June 19, 2013


When I was a kid, my Mom turned me onto Dean R. Koontz.  The first one I read was Darkfall, a page-turner about a cop trying to protect some kids from little voodoo demons.  I couldn't put it down.  It was one big gulp of a book and I read it in a single day.

I don't remember the order, but I soon read a whole list of his books:  Night Chills, Lightning, Phantoms, Midnight.  They were all page-turners and I loved them, particularly Lightning and Midnight.

But then I started reading some bad ones.  I didn't like The Bad PlaceMr. Murder wasn't very good either.  There were a few others just as dreadful and I stopped reading them.

But today, I was listening to the audiobook version on my way home from work and came across this passage:
That pounding, frenetic, unmelodic heavy-metal rock was a collection of monotonous chords and even more monotonous atonal riffs, so soul-less and mind-numbing that it might have been the music produced by a civilization of intelligent machines long after man had passed from the face of the earth.
Ah, Dean, Phil Anselmo has something to say about that:

Sunday, June 16, 2013

In the Ghetto

The planting mound out front is looking good.
The roses are blooming in Bushwhack Alley.  I will either have to sacrifice these at some point or move them elsewhere.  They were here when I bought the place and from them I learned a minor lesson:  Don't plant roses in your walkway.
Do, however, plant petunias in a box.
And if you plant perennials, you have less planting to do next year.  The only addition I made to this arrangement is a marigold plant, which is not even visible in this photo.
Nearby, however, I planted all kinds of vegetative goodness.
And now for the art piece.  I call this "Still Life With Rose and Some Other Flower."
And this one I call "It Finally Bloomed."