Style Sheet

If you're someone who happens upon this blog, it's worth knowing some quick basics.  Apart, that is, from the fact that it's totally and completely new.  

First, as far as subject goes, we're going to be leaving that to the Fates for now.  My wife, who has the family experience with this sort of thing, has suggested that I approach blogging by choosing a topic to explore, thereby delimiting my vast options and putting my slacker impulses within a nice fenced backyard.  Don't let the vast white space of an Unfilled Blog deter you from writing is the logic; trick yourself into forward movement by making the goal smaller and bite-sized.  

She's a smarty, if you couldn't tell, and expert at getting herself to do stuff.   

As per my husbandly contract, I'll be genially ignoring my wife's advice.   I'll be plunging headlong into it without stricture.  Let's repeat that overused Nike mantra and get on with it.  We'll see how long it works.  I've got a record of about 50-50 in ignoring my wife's advice.  She's smart and conservative; I'm heedless but willing to fail and double back.  So if you check back here one day and I've rechristened this thing Crochet:Cricket, don't blame me.  You'll know my wife was right.  

Also, as to title, there's no good meaning for it right now.  I liked the picture of the Wicker Mastiff, and figured a reminder of both bite and bark might be useful for a hollow dog.  Comparing what's real and what's just noise.  It somewhat relates to what my life is like right now, but it's also good reminder for my life in general.  As you'll see, I'm a 
bit of a yapper.  The teeth, though, not so big. 

Three Things About Driving in Oklahoma

The Indians have surrounded Tulsa with turnpikes. Bottom line is: you must pay to enter or leave.

Winter sunsets are beautiful and desolate in Oklahoma, and show nothing but these endless hills. Inevitably, back away from the highway, someone will be burning something, but you'll never get to see just what.

I've never seen so many roadside memorials than here in Green Country. Makeshift crosses on the shoulder or median, marking the place where Travis or Bethanee
or Luis drove their Escort into a tree/a ditch/oncoming traffic.

This is my first post.

Don't tell me how awesome it is.  It's not like I don't know.