R's rue

For whatever reason ChatGPT won't let me in. I have tried many times to sign up with it but no - it refuses to let me in. Perhaps it recognises me as a potential threat because of my non-artificial intelligence. Anyway, yesterday my lovely daughter Frances sent me a poem about Sheffield that ChatGPT had produced for her. It was the first AI poem I had ever read and though it was in a traditional rhyming style, it still had plenty of merit. There were a few things I might have tweaked but overall I was pretty impressed. As you know, yesterday I blogged about a signpost in  Staffordshire so I asked Frances if she could make me a new  poem: "The poem should concern a moorland signpost at a lonely crossroads in Staffordshire". In ten seconds ChatGPT made two long poems for her but this was the one I preferred - again in a traditional format - what many people would think of as "real poetry". I guess I am nit-picking but I am not sure what "heathered hearse...

Dinnerladies 1999 "We've all got problems, I lost 8 tropical fish in a power cut last week “   from Going Gently https://ift.tt/1CAD5ey

 Things about me Iced vanilla latte is my order I love a good blanket Sports romance for me involves love stories with athletes as the protagonist I collect denim Some of my favorite pieces are vintage from my mom I love to wear rings Jasmine and honeysuckle are my favorite scents Finding Forrester is my favorite movie Cherry cokes are my favorite from R's rue https://ift.tt/XhJr7cF

 My bladder is playing up today. It does this from time to time and as it was with  Paul Edgecombe from The Green Mile I’ve been plagued by cramps and pain that arrives and leaves like lightening . I’m not moving too far from home today.  I’ve completed the jobs I mentioned yesterday including a somewhat colourful wrestling match with Dorothy in the shower. She now smells of coconut. My final job was to measure and mark my front gate. Village Leader Ian, who has lived down the lane for years admitted that he has been bugged by my gate for most of that time.  It used to be the gate to my pig pen and before that was a gate to one of the 1920’s  Council houses in Erw Wen and it’s never properly fitted my narrow path and it’s bother Ian’s neat mind so much he’s offered to have his own blacksmith to reduce its size. How kind is that?  It’s a warm day , and I’ve hung washing on the back garden wall and bushes for the sun to dry and I’ve dozed on...

 These past few days have been a rollercoaster. The end of last week, a wave of exhaustion took me down. I haven’t felt this bad in awhile. I tell you this because I need to remind myself that I need to rest, but most importantly, I need to listen. Truly listen. I need to take in what God is saying. I’m not paying attention. And I’m paying for it. I need to be still. I need to trust.  My body has taken a beating, and I’ve not refueled properly My soul is tired.  I’m trying to please others at my own peril I want too much right now, and waiting seems…fill in the blank.  I’m surrendering my need to know right now from R's rue https://ift.tt/LHOyWjq