While watching a train go around a track with a two year old for two hours, I thought I’d answer some rhetorical questions in my head.
Where does the time go?
I like to think sweet time goes into little memory rooms. That’s why “time flies when you’re having fun.” Your mind knows you’ll want to revisit the memories later, so it takes some of that time and stores it away until we are sitting in a rocking chair, thinking back on our lives. We open the doors to the memory rooms with our minds or melodies or smells.
Where have you been all my life?
Blogging about being “set up” and it failing.
Does a bear poop in the woods?
Yes. Next to the tree that fell that no one could hear.
How should I know?
By asking people who wear glasses, checking out Encyclopedia Britannica, and reading books.