A blank page is so full of possibility. Anything can happen on that sheet. On my notebook I can doodle in the margins while waiting for my creativity to kick in.
My stupid dog has no possibility to be a watch dog. Doesn't even bark at strangers. Freeloader. I named it Bubba because it looked tough. Mistake.
My wife is another story. A perfectly fine housewife married to an intellectual. Me. I try expanding her vocabulary to no avail. I gave her a list of 250 classic novels to read. So far, she only gotten through Little Women. Limited possibility there.
I understand she has to cook and clean and take care of five kids. But you can't spare an hour to educate yourself? I even invite her into my library. Sometimes.
Back to me. I will fill this empty page with insights as soon as I have my coffee, make a few calls, check some ball scores and doodle a bit more, freeing my mind to expound on whatever.
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