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Cecil Lawson
29 December 2014 @ 11:40 pm
As I've gotten older, my personality has changed in interesting ways.  I've always viewed myself as a relatively quiet, introverted man who opens up with close friends and family.  It's always been difficult for me to be around acquaintances, co-workers, and strangers for long periods of time; I feel drained after a few hours, and I find myself longing for "alone time."
As I've gotten busier at the newspaper over the past four years, my alone time has all but disappeared, often relegated to a short time before bed during the latter days of the week.  Most of the time I wind up falling asleep. That leaves me with almost no time to "recollect" myself during the day.
One side of effect of this has been my progressively growing more irritable around peope, which is not good in my line of work.  I never thought I would turn into a middle aged crank, but there it is.
I struggle for an answer.
Cecil Lawson
27 December 2014 @ 11:48 pm

I have been life-long following of strange phenomenon and the unusual, so when a book was recently published regarding "pre-historic Caucasian giants who once ruled America and the Smithsonian hoax to cover up the evidence," I had to look into it.
Fresh off of a recent trip to the Serpent Mound in and the Adena Earthworks around Chillicothe, Ohio, I felt reasonably confident in my amateur archaeological knowledge that such claim were BS.
And yet, there was the book, all 344 pages of it, and a lengthy publisher's list in the back from Inner Traditions/Bear&Co. with another dozen books on the subject.
A bit of internet research has shown me that there is apparently no reputable archaeologist or university interested in addressing or refuting such claims.
We are not far from the full embrace of a new age of darkness.

Cecil Lawson
24 December 2014 @ 12:02 pm
When was the last time I posted a blog entry? December 27, 2012.  Nearly two years ago.  And prior to that, I didn't write in it for a year and nine months.
Where has the time gone?  How did I let go of something to which I devoted so much loving care?
Something to ponder as I return my attention here.
Cecil Lawson
16 December 2012 @ 12:55 am
I'm annoyed.  I agreed to help out my friend and secretary at the office to type up "Dear Santa" letters for this coming week.  I had planned on using today to get caught up with writing my news stories from the last few days, but the letters wound up taking the entire day to finish. 
I am able to be flexible enough with my time to be able to get caught up with my own work in the days before deadline, but that's not the issue.  I have entirely lost cotrol of any personal time because of this job.  Weekends are no longer weekends.  The sense of time off, of being off the job, has completely disappeared in the nearly two years I've been here. 
This has got to stop. 
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Current Mood: refreshedrefreshed
Cecil Lawson
13 December 2012 @ 11:42 pm
My return to blogging.  I missed it gravely, though these days I get paid to write as a newspaper reporter.  How long has it been since I posted on LiveJournal?   1 year and 9 months.
I've been needing a writing outlet that isn't a private journal, but also which isn't exactly what I do for the newspaper reading public.  Some place to shape thoughts and feelings into words and to share pictures and the like. 
My inner landscape has changed significantly, yet there is continuity.  It will be interesting to see what shape it take here. 
That's all for tonight. 
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Cecil Lawson
23 March 2011 @ 09:40 pm


I feel like I've been involuntarily moving all day, so it felt good to slip under the blanket of night under my own power with Max. Already the approaching cold air is making itself known. The evening sky is veiled under a gauzy wrap of clouds, but I can still make out Orion and The Great Bear hanging above. Max always stops at a certain curve in the road to watch, listen, and sniff, and I joined him tonight, giving up insisting that he move along. The little frogs earnestly chirped behind us as we scanned the darkness beyond. We met several young people out on the road on their own forays in the night. Life moves amidst life, even under starlight.


Cecil Lawson
21 March 2011 @ 10:26 pm

This has been a long day, and I'm glad to be home, unwinding.  I don't have Max with me tonight, and I really missed him when I took a walk this evening.  The warm temperatures linger at night, and the clouds have finally, after several days of effort, covered the moon.  I met a couple of neighbors out walking down the road as well; we exchanged a brief hello in the darkness.  A rabbit was startled and bounded along the fencerow for several yards before making an abrupt right angle and disappearing into the thick darkness of the field.  In the distance a horse whinnied for no apparent reason. 

Most of my afternoon was spent sitting and waiting at the urologist's office.  I got in fairly quickly, but as usual there is so much waiting before tests and procedures.  Fortunately today, I snagged the late Robert B. Parker's last Spenser novel, Painted Ladies, from the library, and that kept me engrossed.  Regardless, the waiting takes a toll on a body, and as I sit here and type, I feel exhausted.  As it turns out, my tests came back clear, and another ultrasound of my kidneys revealed no blockages (I still have a stone in my right kidney, but it's not causing problems).  The doctor told me to keep up with my medicine and diet and to see him again in three months.  I've already lost 13 pounds in a little over three weeks, so it has a double benefit. 

After so many years, I find myself slowly emerging from a self-imposed internal exile.  After my wife passed away going on six years ago,  I quietly retreated into a very narrow place inside, devoting myself to my dissertation work and not doing very much to really enjoy myself.  A series of events over the last couple of years - finishing with school, moving back to Kentucky, working with the Census, making new friends and getting back in touch with old friends, and getting to live alone for a time - have slowly, painfully drawn me back out in the light of day.  My eyes have had a hard time adjusting.  I have come to see what a pinched sort of life I've been living, and it is time to spread the proverbial wings. 

Cecil Lawson
19 March 2011 @ 10:03 pm

The air was crisp, and this night's Super Moon gently pierced the hazy clouds.  My bare and balding head was chilling instead of radiating heat from the sunburn like it did last night.  Numerous encounters with sounds from all corners - frogs (two different varieties now), ATVs, voices from neighbors, yapping dogs, and at least four shots from a pistol in the valley behind the house.  Max was not terribly happy about the latter - it might as well be thunder to his delicate ears.  The right amount of traffic for an unusually bright Saturday night.  We have been able to feel the Solstice approaching for some days now, and it will be grandly welcomed by all who have tried and made tired by the long winter.  This is my favorite time of the season, the small pocket of days between winter and spring, before the balance tips toward sustained warmth and sunlight.  Max and I settle in for the night, me to an orange and blues on the radio, and my pal to his treats and well-loved comforter. 
Cecil Lawson
18 March 2011 @ 10:31 pm

A rain shower made our walk tonight a short one.  The frogs are in their element and happy.  Max does not like sudden rain storms or lightning or thunder, but he was a trooper.  The damp night air was fresh and full of ozone, gifts of spring.  A suprising amount of traffic in Preston for a rainy night, but it has been like that all day - people out enjoying the warm weather.  I got a sunburned head today despite the clouds; I blame my recent haircut.  Time for some green tea and French jazz for me and a needed nap for Max.
Cecil Lawson
17 March 2011 @ 10:52 pm

It was much too warm for a jacket tonight – I was bathed in alternating currents of warm and cool breezes, the comfort of a spring evening.  The sky remained covered with high, hazy clouds, and they magnified the light of the nearly-full moon, which turned the landscape into a dim version of its daily face.  Neighbors arrived at home or left for work or points unknown.  Max was incredibly distracted the entire length of our walk, searching after something beyond the bounds of my perception.  The peeper choruses returned, but the kick of a stray stone set them all to immediate silence, wary until we passed by.  My own thoughts wandered, too, in a circle, back round to the necessity of being gentle with myself even when the rest of the world does not.