Here’s Annie’s weekly photos (for oops last week):


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As usual, all photos ©2014 Annette Park, and stuff.

Big Bird?




The Adversary hefted a pitchfork over his shoulder and said, “Follow me.”

He led me to the banks of a river, shrouded in dreary fog.

“Along the shores of the river Acheron reside those who lived and died without either infamy or praise. They have been denied entry, forever, into both Heaven and the Inferno. Their eternity is as empty and meaningless as their lives were.” His gaze rested on me for a few moments, while I remembered.

All of those opportunities missed, a lifetime of risks not taken. I was suddenly and bone-chillingly certain that he intended to leave me here, alone. That the shores of Acheron my final fate.

The Adversary watched, eyes twinkling, as if following my every thought. He laughed, and shook his head at me.

“Oh no, not that easy. Into the boat you go,” he said, prodding me aboard with the pitchfork.

Charon gazed at me, silently.

“He isn’t used to ferrying any but the Shades,” the Adversary explained. “And we’re rowing away from the Court of Minos. Irregular.”

My body relaxed, that had been much closer than I cared to admit. The boat moved silently across the fog and up to a dock. Hovering above the dock I saw the shades of the damned gathered and waiting for Charon’s next pickup, for the return trip.

“Step it up, please,” the Adversary seemed eager to move me along more quickly and again I felt the pitchfork tines.

We came at last upon the Gates of Hell from the inside. Stepping through, onto the road that ended at our feet.

“Observe,” said the Adversary, pointing with his pitchfork. “Observe the road to Hell.”

Beneath my feet and outward to where they vanished at the horizon, were carefully ordered colorful blocks. I recognized a recent book from a friend of mine, and I felt the horror growing within.

“Oh yes,” the Adversary cackled with a great deal of glee. Dancing from hoof to hoof in his merriment. “All of these mortals wished to somehow avoid the ignominy of a pale gray meaningless existence, to escape from the shores of the river Acheron. To gain some fame or at least some notoriety before they passed, through fiction. Churning out just awful novels by the score.” A new novel fell from the sky, and plopped into place on the road as we watched.

“The road to hell is paved with the hubris of writers.”

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Clever Title Goes Here

Welcome aboard, to the ParkInkSpot. I’m your host, that guy up there in the Reclaiming Dave logo, and the designated primary whiner in this locality.

What needs to be reclaimed? Oh, my youth, several belt sizes, my sense of whimsy, direction. Simple stuff! Nothing to it! Just grow a pair, problem solved.

Hah, fooled you, this post is almost certain to be edited! As soon as I give birth to a brilliant direction for this Good Ship Blog to sail…

“Cap’n, she’s already leaking!”

Uh oh.

Re-write this first post. All righty then. (Check-mark one prediction made by that past me, edited=true! Two points!)

Welcome, readers. I’m Dave, and I guess I’m supposed to have learned something, over the last couple of months. I have,  but how many of them are Major Epiphanies, and how many are just Wisdom McNuggets?

Mostly, I’ve got more direction, and a better idea of what it is that this particular blog is intended to do. (For a good long while back there, in the earliest days, I was just flailing around waiting for a direction to aim at.)

But then I started writing fiction, and this blog became more aimed. I’ve also got a lot more practice at the non-fiction end, which (mostly) just consists of burping out whatever thoughts are in my head any particular morning. Some mornings, obviously, I’m much more interesting than others.

Barely controlled chaos is our official theme here at the ParkInkSpot!

We talk about whatever Daily Post wants us to, on any given morning. We talk about whatever chaos my brain feels like making up stories about, on other mornings.

I think we can forget about reclaiming anyone’s waistline. And that youth is long, long gone.

Sense of whimsy—oh yeah, I’ve still got that. Rolling in it, it drives the Chaos.

Sense of direction—well, we do seem to be sneaking up on one.

Grow a pair. Hmm, I’ll have to get back to you on that one.

The “author” pretension seems to have blossomed, a little bit. Watering that cute little sprout, as time goes by.

Anyway, thanks to my regulars, and any new readers. I do this stuff for you guys. Wish I had a closing Wisdom McNugget to pass along but would you settle for a Funny Cat Video?

Hey, look! Over there!

(Closing posts r hard, yo.)

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Now that you’ve got some blogging experience under your belt, re-write your very first post.

Revision Fail