Miss Pelican's Perch

Looking at my World from a Different Place


Particularly Fussy

Poached eggs are particular. They are fussy. Two and a half minutes –no more, no less. And the water must be simmering– not boiling.

Hmmm, well, it’s not the eggs that are being particularly fussy, I suppose.



Ljgloyd 2017



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Bench-pressing with Words

My goal is to write at least five minutes every day. Sometimes it is by blogging, or through social media postings, or even at times by crafting the content of a significant e-mail at work. My purpose in writing every day is simply to get better at it.

I need to particularly practice writing with intent. I need to practice since my writing intentions don’t always play out in the finished piece. For example, my writing is sometimes droll or witty, but if my intention is to purposefully write in that manner, it oftentimes falls flat. Similarly, that carefully crafted email mentioned above most likely needs to be precise, clear, and authoritative. However, I often muddy the waters when I overthink that intention.

I find that it is best to briefly set the intention, let it go, and then just write. I don’t think about it. I just write and tell myself that I can clean it all up in the editing process. In other words, I tell my inner critic to zip it while my inner muse creates. She can chime in later.

I need to regularly practice this intentional “free flow”. This is the reason I come back to this blog several times a week. Each time I pull myself back to a singular, pure output of creative thought. I need this regular practice to get stronger and more adept.

It’s like working out in a gym.

ljg 2017


Honk If You Love…..

I am sure you’ve seen these stickers slapped on the bumpers of cars:  “Honk if you love _____” (insert name of favorite sports team, city, animal, cheese, deity, what-have-you.)

It perplexes me that some people throw the word “love” around so casually and in doing so actually diminish that which they claim to love (if they truly do love it).

As writers — or all thinking people in general– maybe we should try to be a little more precise with the word “love” and select another word when we want to convey to the world that we intensely like something.   “Honk if you obsess over Star Wars.”   Yeah, I know, it lacks pithy punch.   Still, I don’t like seeing the word “love” so mishandled.

Let’s say you really do love something and want to the world to know it.   Do you really want that “I love my boyfriend” sticker splattered with mud and heaven’s know what?   Or even more so having the guy to whom you flipped the bird when you cut him off seeing your “I love Jesus” sticker as you peel on down the road?

Anyway, I’m ranting now and probably spending way too much time on this personal peeve on mine.

Honk if you want me to be quiet.


ljgloyd (c)






No Panacea

In trying to write this post I have started and stopped and started over again several times.   This is because I am at a loss for words.

Yesterday’s mass shooting at the church in Texas is no worse than any of the others we have had in the last few years (or weeks), yet it hits too close to home.

I belong to a small faith community too. Since yesterday when I first heard the news of the congregants being mowed down by automatic weapon fire in the pews of their tiny country church, I have envisioned myself and the people of my congregation. What would we have done? Where would I have run? I even mentally worked out an escape plan should something like that happen to me in my church.

How sick is that?

Once again we hear the arguments:  It’s the guns, it’s mental health, the left is at fault, the right is at fault. Yaddy, yaddy, yaddy.

What is the solution? There is no solution. There is no panacea.  The cures we advocate are complicated which means, sorrowfully, that nothing is ever going to change.

And why is that?  Because this is not about guns or mental health or social and political agendas. It is not an earthly situation with an earthly answer. It is a moral and spiritual condition.

In other words, evil is real.

And acknowledging that is the only direction we can go.


ljg (c) 2017