fairy name !

...found a link on a mail list to discover your Fairy name...all right, I'll bite, might be interesting to see what the generator comes up with based on my name....



Your fairy is called Gossamer Moonfrost
She is the moon goddess's messenger.
She lives in spiderwebbed wonderlands and insect grottos.
She is only seen during the first snow of winter.
She wears tiny black spiders on her dresses. She has beautiful blue butterfly wings.
Get your free fairy name here!


...how very neat is that!...only seen during the first snow of winter, and I was a winter baby too!...and now I spin, so keeping spiders near is a good sign.

If you could see what I see

Seems like it was just yestahdee I walked through my house, though it is very apparent I must have been sleepin’ some-where ‘cause I certainly would not have set up my house this-a-way…oh my stars, who put avocado green and pumpkin orange in my kitchen ?! …where did my nice solid wooden ice chest go to, I wonner….and all those doors on the walls ! …and how is a body supposed to sit on them spindly little chairs? Couldn’t have been very big folk living here….

There are people walking thru my house, one of whom has a pin on his jacket that gives his name and somethin’ that looks like ‘reel-ter’…I’m not knowing what that is, but he is talking up my house somethin’ fierce – “…..hand-turned wooden moldings throughout the house…..” and somethin’ that sounds suspishusly like “..shabby sheeke..”, what-ever that might be, though it do seem to be takin’ the young-folk’s attention. I ‘member when my man made those door-frames, he did like to work with his wood, said it felt alive in his hands. Me, I am thinkin’ he had imbibed a little too heavy that day…..and the man did like his lickor, tho’ he tried to hide it from me. We used ta’ have a shed out back with an outhouse attached to the side. My man hid his wiskey bottles there so I wouldn’t find them, but I knew where they were, and if I was thinkin’ he was imbibin’ a little too much I took steps to fix that…..I tried puttin’ sand in the bottle a coupla’ times, filled ‘em with water, put bugs and werms in one, ‘til I saw the bottle already had a werm…the smell of that one near made my eyes burn…when that didna’ work I took ta’ dumpin’ the bottles so they’d be empty….when I’d had enuff of his drinkin’, I brought the bottle in and smashed it on his head – yup, my man decided it was safer to stay sober after that one. I still chuckle over that one…made my man clean up my floor and scrub the lickor off’en it afterwards….he ne’re took another drop after that.

But where was I …? Ah, yes, visitin’ my house…strange that I can go thru the kitchen wall and be in the pantry…a bit dusty it is, and cobwebs, and …yuck, mouse droppin’s beneat’ the shelf…some-body hasna’ been here in a good bit if the critters have taken residence. The top shelf still has my ole butter churn and my most favoritest skillet made of black iron that my man gifted me with one year…that pan was some hevvee but it cooked so good…..as I go back thru the wall my kitchen, my good stove is gone. When my man and me first lived there we have a big wood stove that had a well in the side of it for heating water…the boys knew they hadta’ scrub their faces and hands ‘afore they came to dinner and lack of hot water was not an exkusse ! So, the folks are still walkin’ thru my house and talkin’ with the reel-ter about the size of the rooms and age of the strukcher, and how much land came with it, and how much could they talk the owner to come down on price….Land sakes alive…who’d a’ thunk my house would genn-ah-rate such talk? They seem nice folk, a bit long in the tooth perhaps as I dinna’ think there are chillun’ livin’ with ‘em….The man is talkin’ ‘bout settin’ up a work-shop – seems he does things with wood like my man useta’, and the woman is sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout the big room in front up-stairs that has a big winder in it now, somethin’ to the effect of “..good light for my quiltin’…” so perhaps wont be too bad. I followed the folks down the hallway. What useta’ be the babee’s room now has what the reel-ter called an “..n-clozed tub an’ show’r…..porcelin’ base…original claw-foot…” – well, at least the ones who put it there knew qualitee. The lady is sayin’ that it smelled like babee powder…’course it did, I was very liberal with that wit’ my babee’s, and I blew some off the winder when they came in the room….

{..fast-forward several months…}

I hadta’ walk thru my house again…time to say good-bye to it I am supposin’…the man and woman who I had seen wit’ the reel-ter are in the house now. They still have lots of boxes to open it seems, but the room up-stairs with the big winder with all the light is in use all ready….there are new shelves with fabrics – yes many fabrics of so many colors…and the woman is hummin’ as she cuts and stitches and cuts some more…..there is a big wicker rocker in the room now too…with a quilt hangin’ over the back…and an orange tabby-cat in the chair lookin’ at me. His eyes are bright and clear and he sees me. He knows I am here and mean ‘im no harm…it is a good room, a happy place – the woman has seen to that…. I can be happy knowin’ my house is in good hands now…..time for me to be movin’ on I am supposin’….

Independence Day

We went to a local private inn that was hosting fireworks. Always a sight to see from the top of the hill where the Inn sits over the lake...and there was a bit of breeze at the end that blew the smoke back over us.

We get to celebrate our independence because of boys and girls in uniform, and you often see the phrase "Freedom isn't free", and it's not, it is bought at the cost of a life sometimes.....Thank a Veteran, or a current Military member for their service, and yes, this is something near-and-dear to my heart: My father served in the Navy; my brother was in the Marines; my husband was on board a Navy vessel during the Gulf War; my eldest son is the National Guard; and my younger son is in the Army having already served in Iraq once and deploying there again this year...This proud Maman is thankful for what they have done, are doing, and will do to allow us the freedom to continue to celebrate our independence......

Awesome!

Found something in my reading earlier today, and it is "awesome" ..... just saying the word sounds like it is a B-I-G something, and in truth the concept of awesomeness, is pretty grand in and of itself... The author's name is Neil Pasricha, and his blog is <1000awesomethings.com> ...it's a pretty kewl place, a different entry for every day, that one awesome thing he finds every day to talk about, be it so very tiny and humble to something magnificent, just that one thing that makes you stop and re-examine what you thought you knew. He now has a book out as well, which I will be looking into obtaining for my summer reading forays.....

Imagine, if you will, where your mind will go when you stop for a moment to examine how awesome something is: the sun shining through ice-covered tree branches, the sound of a babbling brook that is hidden behind a wall of trees, the gas guage that reads "E" but still seems to have enough gas to get you home, the doe and fawn on the side of the highway as you drive on by.......

Oh, the treasures to be found when you slow down long enough to 'smell the roses' .....

a time for deep thoughts

Corri sat beside her bedroom window pensively staring out. The late afternoon sun fell upon her face as it bounced and slid over the gently moving surface of the lake. Here and there she could see tips of white as the breeze pushed up the water, disrupting the smooth glassy surface that reflected the brilliant blue sky dotted with white puffs. It was nice to just sit and let her mind wander…the past few weeks had been unbelievably busy to the point where she had absolutely no time to herself. Dad had just been moved to a care facility – his Alzheimer’s had gotten so bad that Mum could no longer keep up with or keep track of him. Everyone in the family had pitched in when they could, but it fell to Mum and Corri as the youngest who still lived at home, to do the bigger share…Sometimes he knew who they were though most times did not, and Corri knew how difficult that was for Mum who had been his everything for so long to suddenly become his nothing. It was done now, he was in capable hands at the Home, and Corri had taken her Mum here to the campground so that she too could start the healing process….Mum hadn’t wanted to go, how could she leave him in an unfamiliar place with strangers ?? It had been surprisingly easy to leave her Dad there, he seemed not to know who they were, only new people to talk to (Dad had always been the social butterfly) and stories to share – he went off with his new friends without a backwards glance at all. Mum had been crushed, but she agreed to leave him for a bit and come back later to see how he was getting on….Corri drove her back around supper time, and other than a simple ‘Hallo, how are you?’, Dad was off with his new-found friends, though Mum could be heard muttering “…you’d think he had spent his entire life with them the way he is carrying on…”

Corri drove her Mum over to the Home several times over the next few days, and yes, even managed to persuade Mum to pack up some things so that they could leave on a vacation, “yes, Mum it’s all arranged, the cabin is ours for the whole month”…..and “it will do you good to have some time to relax”…..and finally, it was done, they were on the road with a brief stop at the Home to see Dad , and then off they went to the lakeside cabin.

And now, here she sat pensively studying the lake, the tensions of the past slowly ebbing away, much like the current was doing on the lake below. She had needed this respite, as did her Mum. This vacation was needed to build up their mental reserves and strength so that when they returned home, they could finish picking up the pieces of their shattered lives. Corri’s siblings were to check in on Dad every few days, and so far from what they had said in phone calls, nothing had changed. He still did not know who they were, nor did he seem to miss Mum, at least none of the nursing staff had said so anyway…..Mum had a difficult road ahead of her, for too long she had needed to be needed, and now would have to find a different way to use her time. Not that there weren’t plenty of opportunities available to her, she had simply chosen to not look at any of them previously because of Dad….

So, ‘one step at a time’ as Dad had always said…..Corri sighed, time would tell where they would go from here…..

..how wild is this life?

….well, got a bit of a chuckle the other morning. Was on my way down the road, on my way to go meet my sister, when I caught a flash of pink. Yes, P-I-N-K…..quite a few (?maybe 20 or so) of those familiar lawn ornaments…the ubiquitous Pink Flamingo, lined up beside the driveway and scattered across the front lawn (they were no longer there later that afternoon when I returned homeward) – had to be someone’s idea of a joke …amusing way to start the day, nonetheless.

Less than a half-mile from that, I pass a corn field that had recently been planted. In a low spot was several dozen Canada geese, most with their heads tucked under their wings…guess they thought that was a good place as any to bed down for the night as the previous evening had been heavy torrential rain and gusty winds. Don’t usually get to see so many at once this early in the year, so was rather nice.

So ok, I am now thinking it is going to be a good day as I continue on my merry way….going through a small town the little car in front of my truck suddenly puts the brakes on and swerves narrowly missing the youngish moose that ran out of the woods on our right, across the road, and into some woods behind the local Town office on the left side…..yeah, I hit the brakes too, and no-body (and nothing) got hurt ……phew!

This week’s wildlife sightings involved the neighbors who called to let us know there had been a fox seen in the previous few days acting oddly, running down the road and up their driveway to the deck (and this is with people and dog right there), and someone also said they had seen it running down another road stopping every few yards to shake its head before continuing on….yup, sounds like rabies, and local Animal Control and Sheriff’s Department both had said we were free to shoot it if it came at us. Well, the other afternoon the sheriff himself is the one who took it out, and where our house sits we pretty much had a ringside seat. The rifle blast sent one of my dogs racing to my basement office to hide under the desk – picture this if you will: big ~70-lb Lab/Pointer shaking like a wind-blown leaf, teeth chattering like he was cold, and big white bug-eyes trying to come out of his head, and all the while he is trying to hide …..Can someone please explain how a dog who growls so menacingly at anything that crosses our lawn (in such a way so as to strike terror in us if we didn’t know him to be such a marsh-mellow) with the hackles raised to stiff peaks, could be such a wuss at the sound of a gunshot?..Sheesh….good thing Hunting Season does not start for another 4-5 months….

nightmares

{let me preface this by stating: This is NOT a true occurrence – this is where the prompt led me, though there have been news stories where this could have been the scenario}

“Sweat beaded on her forehead and she took a shuddering breath. She was so close to being done forever.” How long had she been quivering like this she wondered, as the painful spasms rocked her body once more. The sweat and other substances flowed and dripped off her body. She couldn’t understand why something like this was happening to her…

She thought back to her childhood when she first arrived at the house. She heard everything that was said to her, but having been born mute could never ‘speak for herself,’ so when the nice lady at the home where she lived with the other children told her she was going to a good home, she thought things would change, and that maybe someone could teach her to make the sounds the others made….instead, she remained trapped in a world where only guttural moans and grunts came from her throat.

The new place seemed nice, and the people that lived there: an elderly woman who could barely see or hear, needing an extra set of hands to care for her…..so if nothing else, the girl felt useful. The man that lived there as well, that was a different thing…..he was younger than the old woman, with beady little eyes that watched e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g she did, and sometimes appeared as though he was ill, breathing hard and licking his lips. The man made her nervous, and he did not seem to talk much to anyone, though as she got a little older she quickly learned what a certain look in the eyes meant and made herself scarce so that he would not touch her. He let her get away with avoiding him sometimes, though the smile never reached his eyes when he would only say “I’ll see you later’…..She dreaded those times, because she knew he would come to her bed that night and she wouldn’t be able to breathe when the big sweaty body lay over her…she learned quickly not to fight what the man did because he would make her hurt even more…She did try to avoid it by going to the old woman’s room, hoping for protection, but in the dark of night the old woman neither saw nor heard what happened on the floor beside her bed, and the man would still take what he wanted, then walk her back to her own room and take her once more…

She shuddered at that memory….once a night was bad enough, but having to endure the pawing hands that touched her everywhere inside and out AGAIN made her want to retch, violently in order to empty herself of his touch, much like her body seemed to want to do now….she could smell the metallic sweet odor of blood, knew it to be her own… Pain racked her body once more….the waves of clenching pain kept rolling through her…she took another shuddering breath…..

She had decided she could no longer live in that house…the elderly woman had expired, quite peacefully, some 2 weeks back…now there was nothing to stop the man from touching, or pinching, or fondling, or worse, w-h-e-n-e-v-e-r he wanted. Since she could not speak and had never learned to write, there was no way she could have made anyone else aware of her situation, but she knew she had to leave and get as far away from here as possible…..

The man was gone when she woke that morning, the truck as well…..good, his weekly trip to town, so she had a few hours before he returned….no time to waste. She moved quickly, too quickly it seemed as her body tightened into spasm bringing her to her knees…taking a deep breath she slowly stood up, and picked up the items she had previously stashed and hidden, tied them together in a small bundle, looked around once more, turned to walk out, then stopped. She turned once more, this time moving resolutely toward the stove where she helped herself to several red embers in an old pottery jug. She turned to leave once more and once more her body betrayed her as more shudders racked her slight frame, causing her to drop the jug of embers which rolled away across the floor in every direction….no time to obtain more, she had to get out of there, so she moved towards and through the door, closing it softly behind her….
She moved to the tree line as quickly as her body would permit, as the spasms continued with every movement…she made sure to walk in the stream so that no one could follow her….the icy water numbed her feet causing her slip on the rocks, so it was hard to tell if the pain was because her belly hit a rock, or if it still only came from within her….she tried to hurry out of the water, slipped once more, reached to grab a branch only to find it was a bramble that pulled loose resulting in her landing backwards in the icy stream once more. She stumbled out of the water and headed into the woods where she soon found herself hopelessly disoriented…she did not notice the deeper shadows that yawned open before her, and tumbled deep within the old well…the darkness mingled with the unrelenting pain…the blood poured out of her from several mortal gashes, all the while her body tried to expel itself of something else…..her eyes fluttered closed….her breathing sounding more and more ragged and shallow, sweat pouring from her as her body twisted and contorted in pain….