TToT -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


A large pine tree backlit by a cloud that is glowing from the light of the setting sun. The pine tree is a mass conical-shaped clumps of darkness that angle upwards from the unseen trunk in the middle of the tree. The edges of the tree shows more details, each branch ends in a splaying of fingers of pine needles. The cloud does not show the color in the photo as vividly as it was, it was a glowing orange color that was strong enough to show the spaces between the branches of the tree that stood between the camera and the sky.

This is the TToT. It is hosted by Josie Two Shoes who, fortunately for us, takes on the deceptively difficult task of organizing, presenting and generally riding herd on a rather eclectic bunch of blog bloggers of exceptional talent and ability. The theme is gratitude and the format is ‘a list of ten things that you realize creates, causes, incites or otherwise results in a feeling of gratitude’. Josie is the go-to, when you read these posts and, tempted to participate, come across some of the more…. uncommon views on the subject and worry that what looks like a simple linking app, all blue, friendly and harmless, is in reality a rabbit hole. Good news! It’s both. Josie will be happy to assure you that there is nothing to worry about and it’s totally Freedom Hall when it come to style of participation.

(So, come on along. The little bottles and little cakes are there, just in case you are so inclined.)


1) (totally number one) This Item, were I to follow a conventional naming protocol, could easily be: ‘the internet’ or, perhaps, ‘writing fiction’ or even ‘researching on the google’. So, there’s a little back story to the first Item this week: I’m beginning to expand on a storyline that has made an appearance in zoe’s Six Sentence Story, an effort to learn to write an old-school, noir-first-person-detective story. So, this detective, has a weakness for strip clubs. Ok, nothing groundbreaking with that, if anything, that’s as conventional as an over-full ashtray on the cluttered desk and the ditsy receptionist. I need to have a name for a strip club and, as is my practice, I went (via the google) out into the world and looked up strip clubs. I was scrolling through a list of ‘adult entertainment’ clubs and one of the writing gods smiled on me. I clicked on the link in a listing and what I read immediately claimed it’s place on this week’s TToT. The quote:

(From the Owner): “My job is to provide you with the highest level service possible. I hire only the hottest young college age girls. We also own a commercial fishing boat.”

2) Speaking of writing, don’t forget to go get caught up on ‘Home and Heart‘ (as Dorothy, a certain fantasized-fictional character might say, “I’d be ever so grateful.”)

3) Phyllis and Una


Una and Phyllis sitting on the deck, the garden just beyond and the shed among the pine trees in the back. Phyllis is sitting on the edge of the deck in the immediate (center-left) bottom of the photo. The deck shows, in very light brown, maybe even beige color as three sides of a square. There is a simple bench running along the nearest two sides of the deck. It starts to Phyllis’ left (she is sitting on a step, so the bench is at her shoulder level.) The bench runs to a corner and does a ninety degree left angle along the far edge of the deck. At that ninety degree corner sits Una. She is facing the same direction as Phyllis (to our right) but Phyllis has her head turned to look at Una and Una is looking straight ahead. A nearly black right triangle of a dog. forelegs are light brown, her mouth is slightly open, showing pink, edged in serrated white.

4) the (sometimes) fun of being a clark ( Taking advantage of the Book of Secret Rules (aka the Secret Book of Rules, I will cite SR 7.2 [subchap: g] which, in part states: “when writing about a subjective experience that coincides with a concrete, physical and ‘real-as-rocks’ activity, one that perforce involves photos, it is allowable to separately itemize the photos, the activity and the subjective event, provided the person writing the TToT had the foresight to use a word as everyday as ‘perforce’.” end citation )

5) Photos from Friday June 23, 2016   ‘The Challenge’ ‘The Path’ ‘The Solution’ (the history of humankind in three photos)


‘Light Brown on browner with patches of not-brown’ There are two important (to the story) items in this photo: a glove and an egg-shaped stone. The glove is palm-side up with the thumb on the left. it is longer than the average glove, extending up (the arm) a length equal to the length of wrist-to-fingertip. It is of a worn-reddish color which is varied, both to the lighting and to the condition of the material, which is a heavy, rough leather. The fingers and thumbs are broad and squared-off at the tips, not likely to be helpful if performing brain surgery. They (the gloves) are, in fact, intended to provide protection to a person using welding equipment. An unavoidable byproduct of welding are tiny sparks through every which way. They really hurt when hitting un-protected skin. The egg-shaped stones is an interesting object and the focus of this Item.


Looking Homeward from the woods. The light and shadows cover the lower half of the photo and, together point towards the house. The ground is brown with shadows and light that do nothing to make it less brown looking. Even though the house itself is mostly brown (with dark vertical rectangles, outlined in white that show the windows along the top half) the background above the house shows blue, even though the green pine trees rise through the top of the picture, telephone pole straight, with drooping green arms of branches. The house looks farther away than it is.



6) Activity and subjective overlay: so, yesterday I went home for lunch.* In my line of work, I’m able to do that most days. I also have the pleasure of getting Una her lunch (she has three meals a day, which is only civilized). At this time of year, my most-likely-to-suceed efforts at physical exercise is to go into the woods and move things around, i.e. deadfall, broken limbs, overgrown vines. It’s all about breaking a sweat. Yesterday, as I was about to move a small pine tree, I stubbed my foot on a rock. (For those not familiar with pine woods, the ground is pretty much a layer of pine needles on top of a tough root-mat and then gravel soil.) I looked down at the rock, which was kinda dome-shaped and a light patina of lichen. For whatever reason, I pushed it with one foot. Didn’t budge. I then scraped around the edges of the rock with my heel and pushed it… nothin. (Astute Readers of the Doctrine will be thinking, personal pronouns be damned, that sign post says, ‘Y Chromia’ clear as day.)  OK now I’m interested. I crouched down and, using a finger, cleared the pine needles from the edges of the rock. (The gloves in photo 1 are welders gloves, very thick leather, we use them for tending the wood stove. They are big and thick and impervious enough to allow me to go digging in middle of the woods. Would not have even started with lesser, cloth gloves. Multi-legged creatures, ya know.) Still no motion. I reached for a stick and started scraping the dirt. No sign of the inward curve that would indicate I was getting to the bottom of the rock. I stopped for a second and thought, ‘The Tommyknockers”** laughed to/at myself and kept digging. Then things started to get weird. (lol) My digging stick broke and I muttered to myself , “My &*$(&# digging stick broke! I need a stronger digging stick.” This is the border line, this is where I could have stopped and walked the 200 feet back to the house, had lunch and gone back to the challenging world of real estate brokerage. But, I did not. Why, you ask? I’m a clark. (New Readers: this would be good time to go into this blog and look up the Wakefield Doctrine and it’s three ‘personality types’.) I looked at the rock stuck in the ground, like a soft-boiled egg held in a cup made of wheat toast, and looked up towards the house (photo Number 2) and it dawned on me that I had to get this rock, to that house, without using any tools that I did not fashion from the surrounding forest. I kept digging. I had to use a thick branch as a lever to break the roots that surrounded and effectively tied the rock to the earth. Eventually I dug below the bottom of the rock. I knelt in the pine needles, roots and gravel and, using both hands, pulled the rock free from the earth. After a moment of gratitude and paleolithic celebration, I realized that this egg-shaped rock was way, way too heavy for me to carry back to the house! Between disturbingly jagged breaths, I muttered (no one anywhere near me), ‘Must invent better tools!’ And so, a clark, I accepted the challenge of reinventing technology. I found a pine branch with a thick enough cluster of limbs to act as a sledge (yeah, I know! but the fabric of my shirt was way too thin) and rolled the rock out of the hole, onto the end of my makeshift travois and I pulled it towards the house.

7) the Book of Secret Rules (aka the Secret Book of Rules) is a perennial listing on my TToTs not simply because it can be so useful/helpful, but because it is one of the elements (to this bloghop) that helps take the pressure off the participant when confronted with the inevitable set of rules shaping the theme of a blog hop. (It might be better to use the word ‘guidelines’, but the intent should be clear. Everything, (almost everything), requires a description (of what it is, how it work, what procedure is best utilized to receive maximum benefit), and the TToT is no exception. The theme is gratitude, (the witnessing of, the experience eliciting the emotion etc) and the customary format (for this particular blophop) is Ten Items. So, rules…kinda. The beauty of the BoSR/SBoR is that it allows and invites, (and some might say, encourages), participants to get creative with everything, including the ‘Rules’. Like I say, fun.

8) tbd (and to respond to any questions about Item Six  no, zoe, I did not make it to inventing the wheel! I had a showing that I’d be late for if I didn’t stop the march of progress when I did!) lol

9) The stone has found it’s place.





10) SR 1.3


Click on this and be taken to the ‘hop. Read, write and enjoy.

* a backup Grat

** Stephen King


Six Sentence Noir -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


Here we are again! Wednesday and we’re preparing to participate in zoe’s most excellent bloghop, the Six Sentence Story. (Damn, if I’d of perceived my schoolwork anywhere close to the way I’m currently chasing skills at this writing thing, who knows where I’d be today!) oh well, better late than never, ya know?

In any event, what we gots here is a bloghop that invites all to write (and post through the link thing at z’s blog) a story of six and only six sentences. And, this is the important part, (the) story must utilize the prompt word. Each week we are provided a new prompt word, the grain of sand, destined to become a pearl.

This week the word is ‘Well’.

(Note this week we will rejoin our as-yet unidentified detective as he meets his client in, ‘The Mystery of the Lost Starr’. If you want to follow along, here is Chapter 1) (oh, yeah… if you want some background music for your read, here’s some Miles)

Looking as out-of-place as a Persian cat at a dry cleaners, the woman gave my office a once-over that confirmed that she didn’t get down to this part of town all that much and pulled her raincoat tight around her body, making sure nothing accidentally touched her, while guaranteeing that my attention didn’t wander.

I thought about standing up, but since I had no plans to offer her my chair, I cleared the files off the top of my desk; without the yellow-lined pads and 8×11 photos from a recent case, a once-dark square of wood showed opposite the leather upholstered chair in front of my desk; I nodded, she glanced at the door, held her handbag in front of her like a medieval breastplate and sat down.

“I have a problem and I need your help,” now that the pool of light on my desk worked up the nerve to touch the sleeve that rested on the arm of the chair, I noticed she wore a blonde wig, as effective a disguise as a seven-year-old boy’s Zorro mask; the hair was cheap, the makeup professional and her watch cost more than my last divorce. She stared at me with the look of the man forced to sit in a doctor’s office and wait for the results of a paternity test, resigned but angry at the wrong person, on this rainy Thursday morning it looked like she thought that should be me.

“I’m a licensed PI, I have half a law degree, a black belt and when I’m not having lunch standing at the strip club down the street, I wonder if I’ve made the best career choices, that said, it’s 1:30 in the morning; so you might as well spill it, and since my per diem is determined by my clients FICO score, I’ll spot you 15 minutes, off the clock.”

“I want you to find my sister, Starr,” every neurolinguistic telltale started going off as soon as she said the word, ‘want’ and, by the time she finished, pronouncing ‘sister’ with the ‘S’ in jealousy, I decided I needed to get in the habit of locking my door after nine pm.


Monday -the Wakefield Doctrine- ‘Found in translation’

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


Just happened past this field of cows and such this morning. No! Seriously I had no idea that I’d be writing this post as I took the photo.

As we all know, ‘clarks think, scotts act and rogers feel’.

We (also) all know that…with the perspective afforded by an appreciation of the three predominant worldviews that comprise the personality types of the Wakefield Doctrine, we can know the people in our lives better than they know themselves. Even better, will can know what they will (decide to) do before they themselves do’.

So, you’re thinking, all this is well and good, so how come I still have trouble communicating with my clark/scott/roger?

There is the topic of today’s post. Communicating between personal realities, worldviews.

First: accept that your reality is manifested in a manner fundamentally different from that of the clark or scott or roger with whom you are exchanging ideas, interviewing for a job, asking for a date, coaxing into doing chores, making a pass at and offering your condolences. If you are a clark these things/ideas/thoughts are in the form of knowledge/information; if you are a roger then they are (to you) emotions/feelings/consensus and if you are a scott they are the things you do/your acts/your appetites.

Second: accept that, since you’re the one with the Doctrine and, apparently, the ambition, to get across an idea to a person, despite their different experience, it is up to you to translate what you think, (or feel or do), into something more compatible with that person’s reality.

So, how is that translation done? Well, for the moment, we’ve discovered one of the three (necessary) transformations: from a clark to a roger. For a clark to communicate an idea that they have to a roger, they, (the clark), should take the thought/idea and transform it into an effective metaphor. It is not overly helpful to say to a roger, “Here’s what I think”, or “The best thing you can do about your problem is realize that,” or even, “Have you ever stopped to think that…”

Much better to say, “Hey! that girl you want to ask out, thats a lot like,”  or “Your boss is giving you a hard time, that’s similar to”

(Astute Doctrine followers are thinking, ‘I get it! rogers deal in emotion, so I need to give them a situation that they can identify with on an emotional level.’  Exactly!)



TToT -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


‘Boats imitating geese, lying on the water in a row’ The bottom half of this photo of boats at rest in a salt pond, is green like an old worn-out pool table. The grass is full green and there are parallel lines that appear white, as the blades are uniformly bent by the weight of a mower, changes how much of their greenness we can see. The left half of the green area is worn down to dirt, from cars parking, coming and going over the grass that is clearly not designed to stand up to such wear and tear. Not completely dirt-brown, the worn area shows faded green every where except the areas that most frequently is driven on. At the top of the green is a sharp line and then the water begins. The line is very sharp because instead of there being a gradual transition down into the water from the level of the grass, someone built a wall. That way, the dry land goes right to the water. There are ducks (or geese, I refuse to make the effort to learn the difference)…. petulant birds that have more strength than they should, but appear, for all the world, to be too lazy to take advantage of their (relative) physical superiority. They compensate for their lack of evolutionary ambitions by exhibiting a remarkably surly attitude. Anyway, the ducks (or geese), are standing along the wall that overlooks the water. The title of the photo comes from the similarity of appearance in the boats that lie in the water, tied to poles, in rows all facing in the same direction… very much like the geese (or ducks) except without the attitude. If anything, the boats project a dog-like hopefulness and patience. You know they want you to come down, cast off the lines and go out on the ocean, but if you don’t, even if they see you looking at them and still don’t do anything, they’re still content and happy…. as opposed to those fricken ducks.

This is…the Ten Things of Thankful.

The TToT is a bloghop with, (the sharing), of, (experiences), of gratitude as it’s theme, raison d’être (far be it from me to not use a less used word or phrase, thats why god invented the internet…isn’t it?). Each week, our host, Josie Two Shoes makes available her website along with a linking tool, so that those of such mind, not only might make available their reflections upon, insights into and general thoughts on how this mysterious thing, this emotion, ‘gratitude’ permeates the world. Provided, of course,  you are able to perceive it. (And no, I did not just have a brief visual that included Marie Curie and several apocryphal stories (from college days) about how her coffin is lead- lined, but, under certain conditions, at night, one can detect a greenish glow around here gravesite. I’ve included the link to her wikipedia entry for the clarks out there. (Hey! according to the entry, Marie coined the word, ‘radioactive’. Hard to be cooler than that! I know that fact is certainly important to ‘The Firm‘.))

So, lets begin.

1)  the Internet.

2) technology in general. I don’t go out on much a limb if I say there is no area or aspect of our experience of the world that we do not feel the effects of technology; from baby monitors to CCTV cameras staring at intersections, keyboards and computers, (there’s an old joke/advertisement from back in the day, when magazines were the manifestation of the social media… admittedly uni-directional and passive, but you might sit in a barbershop on a Saturday morning amid the aroma of morning sweat and Brylcreem and pick up a magazine and share (or, rather have a common experience), with countless others in the luridly optimistic articles of Popular Mechanics or Hunting Life or (here courtesy of Item 1:)


3) (Hey is it just me* or does that advertisement remind you of ‘the Facebook’? You know, that constant emotion-numbing drumbeat of the imaginary underdog, the linchpin of the new mythos of the secret/imaginary power of the individual?…. lol  no, really, I mean the posts that always end with “when she started to sing/his comeback floored/the judges’ reactions….”  It, (the underlying pitch), here in the ad is the same as it is today, except then it was a one-way, passive media.

4) *lol… zoe not a whisper about, experiential-lensing of megalomaniacal curiosity**

5) ** not a ‘real’ word… this, btw, is a genuine Item of Thankful. The atmosphere that Josie and the others nurture, here each weekend, totally freedom hall. Which is a good thing for those of us less…. organized in our thinking, coherent in our writing and sensitive to the shades of emotion. Thanks!

6) Shout out to the Graviteers!  Every day, (except on Sundays), we send in photos of our scale readouts and, through the magic of technology, lend (and take) support from each others’ experiences as we all alter the degree of attraction to the center of the earth that our bodies possess.

7) ‘Home and Heart‘ Chapter 13 (and probably Chapter 14) will be out early this week. [Teaser: Sister Margaret is (somewhat reluctantly) on a mission to do something about her mother’s home being foreclosed on… her reluctance in no small part due to the fact that she must draw upon skills acquired in the part of her life that preceded finding peace and happiness in the company of the Sisters at St. Dominique’s. Sister Ryan is surprised to learn of an ally in her effort. Arlen and Drusilla arrive in Miami and meet with the owner of the Bernebau Company… they learn that, to no surprise, many of the rumours*** about Cyrus St Loreto are un-founded, tales to frighten junior executives. They, Drusilla and Arlen do, however, confront the less common observation, that ‘truth is sometimes better disguised as lies.’] Join us at jukepop and don’t forget to vote!

8) Una and Phyllis of course!  9)  Garden Update!  (photo to follow this afternoon, hopefully the rain will stop long enough to get us some photation.)

combined in a video (sorta)

10) SR 1.3


Click on this here icon here and join us the TToT!


***  spelling for Founderess Lizzi


Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)


Wednesday evening. This is the warm-up phase of my effort to come up with a Six Sentence Story for tomorrow. I kinda wander around in my head, double-check the prompt word. Yep, the word is ‘Link’. Now all I have to do is figure how to write what I think I want to write.

Besides being fun, zoe’s bloghop, the Six Sentence Story, (in which readers are invited to make up a story using exactly six sentences), is not only fun, it’s educational, (lots of excellent writing), and a great opportunity to practice. Sort of like ‘open mike’ for the writing crowd. It’s one thing to ‘practice’ at home. It’s entirely another to write for readers…against a deadline. So come join us.


The dog barked a warning to unseen nighttime animals from the quiet living room in the nearly empty house, while in a back bedroom, the man’s concentration remained solidly on shifting one of the tiny parts that made up the intricately carved wooden cube; with a surprisingly loud click and more motion than it’s size should have permitted, a piece moved and, dropping the artifact into the pool of green-felt light, his hands sought comfort at the grey-fringed sides of his head, an unconscious effort to slow the motion that grew from somewhere behind his stomach, rippling up towards his mind, the room around him faded and was redrawn…


“I thought you finished your homework, honey,” the tidal wave of disorientation receded and the man felt a growing need to howl at the sudden loss of familiarity, the dark study in the quiet house now replaced with a bright, colorful room and a voice that turned his body in the chair, (his feet somehow not reaching floor), towards the open doorway. The darkness behind the figure flickered with bluish light as a woman, the spitting image of his mother, only much too young, continued to speak, “…your grandfather meant you to have that as a keepsake, not a toy to play with and break,” stepping into the room, the shadows from the hall remained a shawl over her shoulders, she picked up the intricately-carved wooden cube and, touching one side, said, “look you’ve loosened this piece, let me…”


“He keeps saying that you must bring something from his room in your home, a small, carved wooden puzzle. I must say, while many of our residents become fixated on certain ideas, it’s usually repetition for its own sake; your grandfather is different, I assume it’s a memento from early in his life, I trust that you haven’t arrived too late…”


“Now push… that’s right, keep breathing, just like you practiced,” the young doctor smiled too broadly at the woman on the bed, she knew only the need that grew from her body, when she heard him say, in a tone that strained to overcome his limited experience, “Nurse, I need you here now!”, sensed a quiet increase in activity outside the pool of quiet light…





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