Elegy for Floyd Irving Kelly, Jr.

A closeup black and white photo of Floyd Kelly.

Saying my Goodbyes

From the frozen echoes of star dust in flight,
far beyond the guide star Pegasi; to reflecting upon water’s blue light –
The Universe is beyond the colors we’ve seen.
Still, the stars of old know nothing of me.
Through the ages, our hearts have echoed through the mountains of lore;
Impugned upon the creations of life; a paradox against the casts of realm.
Wisdom says, all have been tasked to go steadfastly true; so go forth we do.
From the valleys of despair, to the cogs of industry;
from the cries of the belly, to the pinnacles of the ego;
one may only see all the colors when two is two.
When a rusty violet is born with no choice to behold, enduring the stories of old;
The stars cry out in deep sympathies, weeping songs of what is told.
For, in our true selves, we say not words of disdain upon the flowers,
nor to the brothers, nor to the sisters on life’s stage;
for there is a grand story in us all, in the flowers and age.
The passion of the winter blackbird; the call of the wild;
echoes through eternity even before the stars beguiled.
The long dark journey finally may rest.
The star dust has another quest.
Cloaked in memories; shadowed with sorrows;
Emboldened with heartfelt good and true –
Whether my place be on glistening white shores, lush fields of green,
or a shining star far away – the beacons of hope
shall always guide me in a very special way.

Saying My Goodbyes by Floyd Kelly (2021)

And the beat goes on…

I am glad that winter is over. I am easily affected by Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and every year winter knocks me down. (SAD) takes a toll on my abilities to create music, which is usually a fun hobby. During the winter months, my abilities are slow and the creation of music becomes a chore. But then comes the Spring season with the warmth of sunshine and everything changes.

A photo of a page of sheet music lying on top of piano keys.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The effects of the new season – In the past week I worked on finishing four new music singles that have now been officially published and distributed to on-line streaming platforms –

  • Purple Ganache – A big-band sounding piece of music that is energizing and has a bold brassy full color.
  • Raspberry Swirls – A fun piano styled piece of music which is mostly syncopated chords with a standard drum beat. I like how the piano is full of warmth.
  • Keria’s Waltz (Fine Mix) – This piece of music is my favorite. I coupled a traditional piano sound with a chorused piano to give this piece of music some unique brightness. This is a remix of “Keria’s Waltz” which appears on my album “Escape from Earth”.

So, springtime is being especially good this year in my humble home. In addition, I found this week that I have now been added to Pandora streaming music platform – which is curated and can be tough to get on the platform.

Thank you to LANDR for making the mastering of music very easy. Thank you to the distributor, DistroKid for making it very easy to self-publish music. Thank you to the on-line streaming platforms now providing my music to listeners: Apple Music, Amazon Digital Music, Pandora, Spotify, iTunes, Shazam and there are others that would make a very long list.

I have more music coming in the next month and I hope you have a great day. – Floyd

Read the 5 Blog Posts My Readers Missed

I was looking through my statistics for what readers found on my blog and realized there are some that were totally missed. In this blog post, I would like to write about the 5 Blog Posts My Readers Missed in this past month.

A photo of puzzle pieces with one missing.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I know people are busy with their day-to-day lives and I do not expect people to be sitting at their computer or their mobile device anxiously awaiting what I have to say, so I’m definitely not stressing about posts that did not get read by any person. That being said, the following list is just a note.

Here are the 5 Blog Posts My Readers Missed from the past month –

  • “Escape from Earth” – I blogged about my music and story production titled “Escape from Earth” and my crazy ideas for creating a device to contain the effects of radiation from Fukushima (Daiichi) flowing into the Pacific Ocean. The post is very in-depth and ventures into other ideas such as the creation of a “Food Replicator” and an “EMP Shield”. (Serious)
  • Dreamland Fun – A blog post about some wild dreams that I have experienced lately. (Humor)
  • Recipe for Moogblarfen Sandwiches – In this blog posting I reveal the way to prepare a delicacy only found in a far away land called Gnome Land. Yes, gnomes know how to cook! (Comedy)

Again, I thank you for reading and I hope this next month I will be able to write some more inspiring blog posts. Today, I will keep this post short and wish you the best.

Have a great day. – Floyd

Read the Top 5 Blog Posts from Floyd Kelly

I hope this blog post finds you doing well. I have been blogging for a few months and I find myself on a journey that is at times laborious but also fun. Readers like you really make my day more enjoyable. Listed below are the Top 5 Blog Posts favorited by my readers for the month of March.

A photo showing the words You Got This next to a laptop on a desk.
Photo by Prateek Katyal on Pexels.com

Also, at this time, I would like to thank all of you out there in this big world who have dropped by to read my personal blog – USA, United Kingdom, Pakistan, India, Israel, Nepal, Romania, Canada, France, Portugal, Qatar, Ireland, Australia, Mauritius, Turkey, Albania, Russia, Malaysia and Hong Kong SAR China.

Here are the Top 5 Blog Posts from the past month –

  • Saying My Goodbyes – Both a creative writing and also my eulogy which some find to be inspiring. (Serious)
  • In Case You Missed It … – An introduction to a large list of curated Intelligence Quotient (IQ) Tests that are scattered around the world wide web. (Serious)

Again, I thank you for reading and I hope this next month I will be able to write some more inspiring blog posts. Today, I will keep this post short and wish you the best in life.

Have a great day. – Floyd

Titley’s Fig Shack and Hippie Mistletoe Brew

When Titley’s Fig Shack first opened up shop downtown, most gnomes around here didn’t think it would last for very long. With a wild assortment of figures and figurines in most of our shops, there wasn’t really any room for another fig place. So it took a while for us to warm up to this new excursion place.

At first, it was the usual – or so we thought. Figgy pudding, fig noodle soup, fried figs, fig and anchovie-mustard sandwiches … well, the list goes on. Yes, these are all yummy treats but we can make these at home and save some pence in the process. Additionally, figs are typically used to fall asleep – they be wreakin’ havoc on gnome physical layouts and knock us out cold when we eats them.

So needless to say, Titley’s Fig Shack was usually only doin’ business after midnight.

Last year, the shop almost went out of business. With the hubbub and going-ons of the downtown area during the day – nobody wanted to fall asleep by sippin’ or munchin’ on figs. So the proprietor of Titley’s Fig Shack figured it be high-time he did something to keep his business goin’.

Titley's Fig Shack
Titley’s Fig Shack in downtown Gnome Land
Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels.com

So he hired one of those hippies. His name was Autumn Sullivan. A bedroom-eyes kind of fellow. And upon first glance – we’s be thinkin’ he be one of those sexy gay party men that likes to shake and shimmy with the purple beads on the dance floor. We were wrong. Turns out, he actually be a world-famous alchemist of sorts.

Last night, I could not get to sleep. So I strolled through the downtown area to go pay Titley’s Fig Shack a visit for a nighttime snack. Upon arrivin’ I could smell the goodies and treats and the wild and crazy “knock me out” kind of food stuffs. On display were the famous oyster-fig droplets, fig and pork meatballs and the wonderfully delicious fig and liver streudels.

So I stood there for about an hour tryin’ to make up my mind.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen out back, Autumn and Titley were concoctin’ up somethin’ to save the business. Peerin’ over the counter out front, I could see things flyin’ through the air, pots and pans bristlin’ with excitement and an occasional puff or two of a hazy-weed-cigar.

“Hey Titley!”, I yelled.

Titley yelled back, “Is that you Farley?”.

I replied, “Yep. It be just little ol’ me. I can’t sleep. Help me out with some eye-shuttin’ snacks, will ya.”?

So then Autumn and Titley came out front with a big bowl of somethin’ steamy and bubbly.

“Here, try this on for size. It’s what we call Hippy Mistletoe Brew. Mistletoe isn’t just for kissin’ and Christmas ya know.”, said Autumn.

So I took the bowl to give it a good whiff with my fat nose – to test the waters – so to speak.

My eyeballs immediately went cross-eyed. “That’s some funky smellin’ stuff!”, I exclaimed.

“Go ahead, have a few sips…”, said Autumn.

“Are you kiddin’ me? This kabooki smells like … well … kabooki sushi!”, I replied.

So as not to be impolite, I took a few girly gnome-like sips of this strange smellin’ concoction. I must say I was thoroughly surprised. Even though the bubbly smelled like yesterday’s kabooki sushi bakin’ in the sun – it didn’t taste half bad! Quite delicious.

“Not bad! What’s in this?”, I asked Autumn.

Autumn replied, “Well, its just murky water out of your waterin’ well. I warmed up the water some, threw in a beautiful mistletoe leaf and a tablespoon of warm kabooki sushi I found outside.”

I immediately put the bowl on the counter and wiped off my gay lips. I told Autumn and Titley, “Ummm…no thanks. I’ll just have a fig.”

Over-N-Out. – Floyd

I was only 10 years old …

If I close my eyes, I can still see it clearly – the color of the carpet. It was a drab and faded olive-green – worn down from many years of foot traffic. I am sitting at the entrance to our house. I can still see the many stains that peppered the carpet over the years. There were a few areas where the carpet was beginning to fray and I could see the padding below showing through; but this old carpet was more than just a carpet, it was my assigned sitting spot.

A blurry photo of black and white shadows.
Photo by Henry & Co. on Pexels.com

Sitting there on the floor in the living-room, I could trace the outlines in the carpet. These indented outlines ran throughout the texture of the carpet, creating a winding maze that I could trace with my eye just for fun. Sitting there, I would stare at the carpet with my eyes filled with salty tears.

It has been over 40 years, yet I remember the day clearly. It was a mid-September afternoon. I called it an Indian Summer day. I could sense that autumn was here – but warmer than usual. I sat there on the carpet, facing the door entering our living-room. As my mother sat in her comfortable plush chair just a few feet away; in her raspy voice she yelled at my sister, “You ******* bitch! Get me a Diet Rite — and I want lots of ice this time!”. Chaos and yelling was common in our family. My mother was always yelling. She was always bitter; she was always angry. She was evil.

Looking up from staring at the carpet, I could see my mother grab something – hoping to God that it wasn’t the switch or the metal hairbrush — those were just a couple of the items that my mother loved to use as tools to beat me to the point of drawing blood.

Anytime my mother would grab something from the table next to her chair would send chills of fear through my mind and body. The table next to her chair held the arsenal of items she would use to inflict pain and order obedience. I never knew what she was going to grab to beat me. But for now, she was just grabbing her pack of Benson & Hedges – her favorite cigarettes. For now, I was okay; I wasn’t going to be hit.

Anytime my mother had a cigarette in-hand was a good time to approach her – it was her drug. Her cigarettes calmed her down; which meant she was less likely to be abusive. And, so I took this chance. “Mama, can I get a drink of water?”, I asked as politely as I could so as not to make her angry. She angrily answered back with “No! And shut your ******* trap before I come over there.” Once again, I took a chance. “But mama, Stephen got to get a drink.”, I replied. Stephen was my youngest brother and the spoiled one. She then yelled “I don’t ******* care. Now shut your ******* trap before you get what’s good for you — “. It was at this moment that I thought to myself, “I wish I could just get up from here and go to the kitchen and get some water. If only.”; but that was just something that I was not allowed to do.

In our family, we did not do that kind of thing. I was to obey my mother at all costs, at all times without exception. The slightest deviation from obedience meant certain physical pain, excruciatingly painful torture and possibly beatings leading to bloodshed or the inability to walk due to a special and severe punishment set aside for the greater transgressions.

A day of remembrance…

This particular day would turn out to be a day not to be forgotten. I was only 10 years old. I was very afraid and broken from the constant torture. By the time this particular day had arrived in my life; I had already experienced many years of torture and abuse at the hands of my mother and father. I was severely malnourished. I was hungry. I was thirsty. On my body were many bruises, welts, cuts and scars which were given to me mostly by my mother. I remember seeing my rib cage in the mirror – I was underweight from not having food. I remember thinking to myself on this particular day, “I can only take so much God. —- God? — God can you hear me?” On that day there was not an answer from God. “God! Please help me! Please!”, I cried within my heart. Still, there was not an answer.

I thought to myself, “I need to get water.” The last time I had any water was yesterday. I was desperate for water.

“Mama, can I go to the bathroom?”; I asked politely. She just sat there in her chair staring out the window. “I guess. — Hurry up.”; she replied in a raspy voice as she brushed her brittle long black hair.

I quickly pulled myself up from the floor and headed to the bathroom and closed the door as quietly as possible. For me, going to the bathroom provided a brief respite from the horrors of my childhood. When I was allowed to go to the bathroom, for a few minutes, I could close the door and escape. On this particular day, I went to the bathroom, closed the door quietly and simply sunk to a sitting position behind the door. I just wanted to sit there for a minute or two to escape the day. I was tired. I was very tired. I was sad and tearful.

As I sat there behind the bathroom door, I stared at the sink. “I could get some water from the faucet!”, I thought. But, thinking again, “That won’t work, mama will hear the water running and she’ll come in here after me.” — “God! — Please!”, I prayed again for help. I cried, “I can’t even get a drink of water from the bathroom sink because mama will probably come in here.”.

A minute goes by…

Then two…

Finally. As I sat there on the cold floor of the small barely-lit bathroom, a thought occurred to me. Peering over at the toilet; with the toilet bowl at eye-level. I thought, “Water –.” I quickly stood up and very quietly opened the lid to the tank of the toilet. I had to be very careful not to make any sounds by opening the toilet tank. If my mother heard – it was all over. Having lifted the lid successfully — “Can I drink that water?”, I asked myself as I looked at the inside of the tank. It looked too disgusting and rusty. So I carefully put the lid back on the tank. But, as I was placing the lid on the tank, I noticed that the water in the toilet bowl seemed clear enough.

At this point, desperation had taken over my sensibilities. What I was about to do did not phase me. I was thirsty, I needed water. My mother wouldn’t let me have any and I couldn’t get any water elsewhere so this will have to do. I quickly knelt down at the toilet bowl (used by a family of 8); raised the toilet seat, lowered my head deep into the toilet bowl and puckered my lips to create suction and began to drink the water. With a mixture of desperation and the quenching of thirst at the same time, I sucked up as much water as my stomach could handle. I could feel the cold water inside me. It felt so good. My chest was cooling. My stomach was being filled with the coolness. Relief had arrived at last. I drank as much as I could; I didn’t know when I would be able to drink again.

After quenching my thirst. I stood in front of the mirror above the sink – looking at myself – wondering why I have to suffer like this. Wiping my face with the sleeve of my shirt to conceal any evidence of my transgression – I heard a thunk at the door. “What the fuck**** are you doing in there?”, my mother yelled. The door swang open, “Nothing mama…”, I answered in a soft and quieted voice. I managed not to look at her directly so as not to raise any suspicion. I simply and quickly slipped past her — back to my assigned sitting spot in the living-room. Once again, resigned to staring at the carpet.

That was a very sad day for me. – Floyd

In case you missed it …

As I write this blog post, I find myself somewhat weary. I spent the past two weeks uploading a Google+ takeout file which contained over 200 old posts that I wanted in my personal blog.

A photo of a man sitting at the edge of a lake at sunset.

The process was slow and my poor computer mouse has been put through it’s paces. I did complete my work and I am glad it is now complete.

The work I am talking about is the creation of a multi-page document detailing my 2-year journey of taking various Intelligence Quotient (IQ) tests that are scattered around the internet.

I suffer from a cognitive disability that as far I’m aware of – does not have a name. I have yet to find a physician that can help me with this affliction. My cognitive abilities have degraded with aging. And, along with that, my brain does not function at a regular pace. Some days I am very smart; but if you encounter me in a week, I am dumber than a doorknob. My brain seems to fluctuate in extremes from smart to dumb and back again. I would not wish what I experience on any person as it is debilitating.

I became so concerned a few years ago that I decided to start taking tests so I can measure what is happening to me. Over the years, I discovered a vast array of tests and quizzes on the internet. I fail many of the tests and then a few days or weeks later I pass many tests. It is somewhat difficult to put into writing.

You can view my collection at this page titled “Challenge Yourself with These IQ Tests”. I was intentional about the title of the page, because I did not want my test results to be just about me, but to help other people who like to challenge themselves.

Shedding more light on my mental capacity; I am an old man – that is how society perceives my existence. As most men my age have experienced certain “manly” things; my cognitive disability has not allowed me to experience the same things.

For example, even though I am considered an elderly person and should have experienced certain things in life by now – in all my years – to this day –

I have a hard time counting money and have been fired from jobs because I was unable to do simple things like operate a calculator or balance the till as a cashier.

I failed math in high school and was unable to get past introduction to algebra.

I do not know how to use firearms (weapons).

I don’t know how to operate much machinery, even a simple lawnmower is a challenge.

I once drove a vehicle for years without changing the oil because I did not know I was supposed to do that.

I had a flat tire that needed changing on my vehicle and the locals pointed out that I put my tire on backwards.

I did not build my first campfire or a fire in a fireplace until the age of 40; because I did not know how to do that.

Anything that is mechanical and common to people my age is not present in my life. There are so many things that normal people can do, but I am unable to do myself. I could go on-and-on about such things, but I think I have said enough.

Coupled with what I just told you, I also suffer from Major Depressive Disorder and many days are just plain terrible for me. I also suffer with PTSD from the extreme child-abuse I survived from the age of 6 to 17.

Add to all of this that I have lived in isolation for many years and I can go weeks without talking to another human being. I have gone so very long without having a conversation with people that I find myself losing the ability to speak; to pronounce words.

So the post I created about my IQ is simply to show what I used to be like; and also to ask the question – how can this all be? I find comfort mostly in silence, solitude and being away from people. I go out of my way to stay away from all people. I do like to communicate with people, mostly by way of the internet – mostly it is people who have no interest in me.

If you are reading this, you can help me have a better day by leaving me a comment. So many people read my blog posts but could care less to even say a hello. It adds to my dreary depression. I try to reach out to people but it seems many people just do not care.

Thank you for reading. – Floyd

Dear Kaylee

Please forgive me if I did not live up to your expectations in life. You left so quickly that I have a hard time believing you are gone. Please know that I care for you very much and that you were the light of my life; you were the light of other people’s lives as well and to the whole world. I have never met a being like you and I will never forget you.

Floyd's dog, Kaylee - a very special being.

We went on a lot of walks! You loved the world. Your joyous nature brought joy to me and others.

It’s painful not seeing you here, it’s painful knowing you are gone forever. The tears I cannot hold back. I loved you so much – you were my best friend.

You were so forgiving and loving and kind. You never hurt a creature in your whole life.

I am going to write a song about you – The Flowers at the Rainbow Bridge.

Please be waiting for me when I get to heaven. And Bebe too! Remember BeBe?!?

I’m so sorry that I did not appreciate you more. I tried the best I knew how. I did what I could to make you happy and I hope that you know that I did not want you to leave me.

If there are angels that you can talk to, please tell them that I need help to go on in life. I need your loving spirit with me at all times.

I will miss you Kaylee, you are and will always be my friend.

Floyd Kelly

Learn to Convert a WordPress Post to a Page

I have been working on a future post which has been sitting in my Drafts section on WordPress; mostly because the post is very long. I know it is going to become even longer, so I decided I wanted to make the post a page instead.

A photo showing a person typing on a laptop with WordPress showing on the screen.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

To keep my blog simple and designed for fast-loading, I knew this was a big problem if I wanted to include the post in my blog. So, I began looking around the WordPress dashboard for a utility that would convert my post to it’s own page.

I spent about an hour looking around and I could not find anything. The closest I came to a resolution was the Export feature. I tried that feature but it did not work because my post had not been published and the only identifier I could use in the post for Export was a category, which has this one post assigned to it. Because the post had not been published, the Export feature did not recognize the category. Ugh!

I wandered around looking once again for some way to convert my post to a page. My bag of Oreo cookies was emptied in the process. After some cookies and a nice tall glass of milk, and prodding around on WordPress, I finally found a solution.

The key to this solution is next to that green button in the upper-right portion of the screen, called JetPack. It may show up on your screen as three dots.

Upon clicking this menu item, within the menu I see “Visual Editor” and “Code Editor” – aha! My brain started firing up again.

I then opened my post that I wanted to convert to a page. Upon doing this I clicked on “Code Editor” and my screen changed from a visually appealing screen to a white screen with blocks and code. Perfect! The magic has arrived.

With my post open and the “Code Editor” now active, I simply clicked once in the body of my post. I then used a key combination of CTRL+A (Select All) and then CTRL+C (Copy) – this selects all in the document and copies to memory in my computer.

I then closed the post and went to my Pages section in the WordPress dashboard and selected “Add New Page”. I was prompted what template I wanted to use and I chose Blank.

Now, with a blank document on my screen, I clicked on those three little buttons again and selected “Code Editor”. I then clicked my mouse one time in the new blank document and pressed the key combination CTRL+V (Paste). Voila! I then clicked on the three little buttons once again and selected the “Visual Editor” to return things to normal and saved the page.

Thank you for reading and if you have this same issue, this will work and on that note I’m going to the store to buy me some more cookies.

Over-N-Out. – Floyd

The Top 10 Library Items in Gnome Land

You people in the big cities have it made big time. We get your daily newspapers and books shipped to us up here in far away Gnome Land, which gives us a good idea as to how you people live daily. For those of you new to our society, Gnome Land is 10 kilometers north of Kleistenschlectenbergenstein – yes we are very far away from you.

A stack of old books.
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

So far, our very astute gnome librarian has managed to catalogue many of your famous and worldly newspapers for us to read. We have a few books, but mostly newspapers. With newspaper names like “The Great Karaoke Machine”, “The Horseshoe Dailies”, and the famous “Porcupine Social News” we are very knowledgeable.

Yes, here in far away Gnome Land, we manage to stay on top of your steamy worldly affairs.

We use to get an obscure newspaper shipped to us called the “Boston Globe”, but nobody would read it and most of the time our gnome families would just take it to the outhouse – only to never be seen again.

The most popular of newspapers we receive here is called “The Daily Joys of Proud Pecs”. If you go to our library here you will see that the checkout card always be showin’ constant checkouts and check-ins of this popular newspaper.

Today, upon closer inspection, I noticed this particular newspaper seems to always be checked out by one person – Phooey Buckeye – you remember him don’t you?

Now that I think about it, every time I see Phooey Buckeye strollin’ around our streets, he does seem to have an oversizeable chest area. That must be one good readin’ for him to be so obsessed with literary chesty prowess.

We don’t have too many books here. If you have some you can ship to us we would be much obliged. Of the books we do have, here is our top list of checkouts.

Our Top-10 checkouts at the library this month are:

  1. How to Feed a Rabbit with Tongs
  2. Macrame for Gnome Dummies
  3. The Greatest Jockstrap Ever Sold
  4. Simple Repairs for the Fat-Fingered Gnome
  5. The History of Moogblarfen Sandwiches
  6. How to Watch Bean Sprouts Grow
  7. Avoiding Smelly Traps – House and Home Weekly
  8. The Woes of Flabberflatulence and Gastrations
  9. The Ultimate How-to Guide on Making Hazy-Weed-Cigars
  10. Bunched-Up Lederhosen Debacles

Now that you have a better idea as to our astuteness and literary prowess, feel free
to drop by our library and sit for a spell. We do allow one pint of ale per gnome per readin’ time.

This Public Services Message
brought to you by:
The Gnome Council on Literary Guidances

A small shack covered with hay and sod.
Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels.com

Public Library located at
128 Green Fig Lane
(downtown – next to Titley’s Fig Shack)
Library Hours: Noon to 1 p.m. on Mondays Only

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