I've been re-reading some of my blog posts. It bugs me so much that I sometimes get in such a hurry that I leave out entire words. Who knows? I might have Alzheimer's (yeah that ugly monster reared its head in our family). I remember  you, Liz, even if you don't remember me, or I could look forward to a fast progressing  glioblastoma as my genetic destiny. Either fate is equally dire. I feel as though I'm caught in this squeeze of premium time left and wage slavery. I've been preoccupied with dystopian literature (Can you believe spellcheck doesn't recognize that word?  or spellcheck for that matter!) Chris Van Allsburg wrote a book called the Wretched Stone. It wasn't as wildly popular as the Polar Express, but I loved it. I tried using it for school visits, but only a very few kids got the the idea; I didn't think it was that subtle, but television has permeated our society to such an extent that  I believe it has actually changed childrens' attention span. They're  adapting to what's coming, what we're already experiencing, a barrage of constant information. Our school curriculums are becoming obsolete, they no longer need to memorize facts, the computer will do that for them. They need to learn how to build on the latest knowledge, which is accessible at their fingertips. Sometimes I worry, what will our children do if the grid fails? Will they know how to cope, even for a few days? I've recently become painfully aware that it's harder than it looks. This post is so dismal that I need to add some photos I took this morning.