Area = pi × r2…so what?

Maths & I were never best friends.

And unapologetically so.

It was more from certain angles.

Though varied in degrees.

Sometimes it was acute, though not always right.

*

Later I did develop an interest in numbers.

Specifically in the realm of bank balance.

There also, only addition & multiplication.

Subtraction was a darned curse word.

*

This might perhaps be the only time I have ever shown interest in the subject.

Such is destiny.

What you don’t like is sometimes served in a more palatable format.

Like travel & photography for  instance.

*

Here one has only photographic angles to care about.

And the triangle & columns pose.

The Le Madeleine Church, Paris.

Rather geometric.

*

get-mo-here.

O frabjous day!

It’s always enjoyable reading Jabberwocky.

Lewis Carroll’s utterly nonsensical poem written in 1872.

In the realm of nonsense poems, this is considered one of the greatest 🙂

Who said everything had to make sense in any case?

So as you go galumphing through the gyre & gimble of life,

Or have those uffish thoughts,

Clutch your vorpal sword & mark those frumious plots.

It will strengthen you.

I hope.

Have a frabjous Sunday.

~  *  ~

Jabberwocky

by

Lewis Carroll

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
 Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
 All mimsy were the borogoves,
 And the mome raths outgrabe.

*

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
 Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
 The frumious Bandersnatch!”

*

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
 Long time the manxome foe he sought —
 So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

*

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
 The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
 Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
 And burbled as it came!

*

One, two! One, two! And through and through
 The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
 He went galumphing back.

*

“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
 O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.

*

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
 Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
 All mimsy were the borogoves,
 And the mome raths outgrabe.

**