Story

Splotchy started this story… Here’s what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don’t know how realistic it is, but that’s what I’m aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out.
Tams tagged me, here goes...


I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)“That’s strange,” I said out loud to no one in particular. My fingers slowly reached towards the jar again. My body experienced a wave of apprehension as weighted blanket covering me as I did so. The jar was completely frozen. I picked it up and stared at it, my fingers stung with little knives of chill. “What the…” again I spoke aloud. Then I realized what had happened with a shock. Suddenly the jar flew from my hand. It shattered creating a collage-like mixture of frozen applesauce and glass shards on my kitchen floor, the lid lazily rolling to a stop across the room. (FranIam)I stood for a moment considering what all this meant. Oh, I knew what it meant, I didn’t need to waste time thinking about it. He was back. And he was mad.I ran down the hallway and flung open the door at the end. I was immediately hit with a blast of cold. I took a step back as I tried to catch my breath. I bent over, hands on my knees panting. He always had this remarkable effect on me. After so much time, it no longer scared me, but it was a shock nonetheless……“You know,” I panted, “There’s no need to break things to get my attention.” (DCup)I woke up in the same position as in my dream, on my knees. I was sweating even though room was freezing. (mathman6293)I was used to the house being quite cold in the mornings, as the night log usually burns out around one AM when I am dreaming cozily under my covers, not normally waking to put a new one on until morning. I was surprised because on the rare occasions that it actually had reached sub-freezing temperatures in the house, I had awakened in the night to restart the fire. I would have been worried about the pipes before P-Day, but there hadn’t been running water in two years and that was one of the few advantages to being dependent on rainwater, no pipes. (Freida Bee)The nightmares began during the following spring. The apple trees came to life in my dreams. At first the trees spoke and I thought they were amusing. That changed when the messages arrived. Lately, their anger was directed at me. (mathman6293)I have been wracking my brain to figure out why they were so angry with me, of all people. The only thing that it could possible be is that I ate too many apples. Too many apples, can you imagine? I thought that was the whole idea. I mean, they kept coming to me saying, “Here, eat another apple, eat another apple.” That night is when the dreams turned to nightmares. Usually I am not one to remember my nightmares, just waking to a vague terror of some sort, but these stuck with me. The applesauce thing is what really terrifies me. (jen)”Bloody Apples!” I fumed as I threw back the covers to greet the new day and the terrors or happiness it might bring. “What was that?” asked Spirit in her sleep, purr filled voice. “I SAID Bloody Apples!!!”, hating to repeat myself. Spirit, in her catty way assumed her sphinx pose and wisely blinked at me. “It’s not the apples that are bothering you, my dear, it’s the redness of them…it’s the blood.” She licked a paw as if she hadn’t said a word then blinked lazily at me. “Do you understand?” she asked, purring softly. She gazed at me, having the eons of past lives lived behind her….gazed at me as if she had all the time in the world for my confused mind to stumble upon the answer. And of course, she did have the time. I had the feeling that my time was running out before disaster struck and I didn’t have the patience to wait for her to come to the point. “What exactly are you talking about?!!” I raged. She licked her paw, swiped her right ear and said…. (Tams) I now tag Crackola. (Crackola) "The apples only bleed when we have caused such a damage that the heart of the mother herself can not mend." Damn cat, I don't have time for riddles, it's cold, my brain hurts, and in my heart I know I have served this land well. All the years we have been here, the strange things that have occured, they have all lead me to this time in my life. You know we were brought here together for this very thing. The cat stretched, turned on her haunches, and faced the door just as the knob slowly started to turn. (I tag Jeremy)http://www.myspace.com/Cedarmtn
Categories:

Punkin Time

sometimes

sometimes she talks about angels

tells me everything right down to their wings

sometimes she talks of the darkness

other times she quietly sings

sometimes she sits quietly counting

laying out the tasks of her day

sometimes i weep for her in silence

never knowing just what to say

sometimes the world surrounds her

and i fear my arms aren't enough

sometimes i think that i've lost her

but sometimes she thinks too much

Animal advice

...because somedays you just need to come home and soak your aching dogs. womp womp!

The world of dreams

sometimes the darkness outshines the light,

and the hardest person to live with is me,

some days every struggle turns into a fight

and i can only wonder what it all means



thoughts swirl around like a well shaken drink

moments of simplicity become too complex

one minute the worlds spins bright in your hand,

then it vanishes leaving you vexed



memories linger in the back of your mind

watching the sun slowly set in your dreams

nothing and everything blend in as one

and both are as real as they seem



time winds up the ribbon of road laid out

that the moon unfolded in beams

waking again your hands tremble cold

this is the story of dreams....

~d.d.

Never to old for animal crackers

Go ahead and try to tell me you wouldn't grin too if your animal crackers were humping each other!

Peanuts, whiskey, and squeaky carts

I got the squeaky cart. I always get the squeaky cart. I went to the walk your ass off to get the 5 things you need mart today because I needed lasagna supplies. I woke up at 11 today, part of my new 3 days off a week ritual, and I sat in my pj's feeling lonely and bored til 4 pm. I'm riding the fence this week about feeling sorry for myself. S went back to work, so mon, wed, and fri, she doesn't get home til around 9 because of dialysis. I put clothes on, jumped in the car and doomed myself to shopping. I was in the wine aisle, the florescent lights from the beer case were buzzzing just for me. I probably couldn't have looked more miserable if someone paid me to. Then, around the corner comes this little old lady, white hair, print dress, about as tall as the buggy. She smiled really big and said, where are the peanuts? Without an answer, she proceeded, " M y husband use to be the biggest family clown. I'd buy him cheap wine and peanuts, and that silly old man would buy jack daniels and mix it in with his sugar and wine." Her eyes glowed, and I could tell she needed to talk about him. I felt selfish for feeling lonely. She went on to say she still had the silly old flask he mixed his concoctions in. All the while smiling like he was right there with her. She closed out the brief encounter by saying, " of course this was before he passed." She smiled and was on her way to the peanuts. I turned the corner and felt my eyes water. That was love, and that was lonely, what she felt. It was a sweet moment that happened in the beer aisle at the shopping center, and it felt like more than chance, but I know it probably wasn't. It's easy to be the star in your own show, but every once in a while you get upstaged, and it humbles you, makes you realize millions are daily living in this story book feature. So here's to peanuts, jack daniels, sugar in wine, love after death, and never being lonely... Did I mention I hate getting the squeaky cart.

deamons

Rubbermaid Fish Hostle

The first year in over a decade that south Texas has been out of drought conditions, and aside from exibit A and B, I am happy. The rain flooded my yard/house several times this spring, resulting in the lovely concrete floor that use to be the garage becoming our living room for over a month. It all started when the tree fell on the house. Small leak...more rain...yard flood...more rain...2 of every creature began to ring the door bell asking for some dude named Noah. Long story short the carpet went sour. They ripped it up, waited for the insurance guys to give them money, a month later we get the tile ready to lay, happy days are here again. Right? The tile is in the closet, the 55 gallon fish tak had to be emptied to put down said tile, and here I sit in my pajamas, no tile guys, a fish market in my living room, and a message on the machine that says, sorry we can't come til the end of the week. Meanwhile, the cat thinks we have put in an all you can eat sushi buffet, the dogs can't believe their good fortune at having a water dish so large, and I am frantically trying to rig up the pump thingy held in place by a towel and tape so the fish can breathe. All 40 of them. Not to mention the damn donut hole from yesterday. Next blog down if that made no sense. It's 1 :45 I'm going to have a beer....

try to remember

we set aside a place in time
we mark it
fold the page
try to remember it
we make a promise in our mind
to find it again
hold on to the memory
and never let it change
we travel through day to day
pages get lost
moments begin to fade
and we try hard to remember...

Tree Stripes

What did we do?

No, this isn't a day at the creek. I am not hiking in some nice stream. This is my back yard. South Texas has had so much rain lately that all of our shit is floating away. On top of the 6 inches of water in my backyard, I am sitting in a bare concrete floor room because of the flooding. The carpet was ripped out because water filled the whole room and it stunk like the south end of a north bound donkey. Anybody up for canoeing, come on over, bring a paddle, you can help me get to my car. Sheesh!

Kathy Rocks!

We saw Kathy Griffin last night, she was funny as hell. She played the magestic here in town, and I have to say she is one of the funniest people on the planet. I'm still laughing.

I'll break it

What does it mean to break, to be broken. The dictionary says broken "physically and forcibly separated into pieces or cracked or split; "a broken mirror"; "a broken tooth"; "a broken leg"; break, well that one is "become separated into pieces or fragment."
We let people break us all the time, but today, today I choose to be broken. My best friend, the man I lived with for about eight years, he left town today. He is my best friend. We share a weird friendship that most people don't even try to understand. I have spent the last year getting ready to see him go. Today he went, and I am happy for him, but I am a little broken. A small piece of me will miss the comfort I got from having him so close all these years. He is smooth water, I am tidal waves. He is blue skies, I am a hail storm, he is a beautiful spirit where I am often lacking. He is my best friend, and I will take today to be broken. Today I will break where I need to, and then I will be fine, because if anyone in this world deserves happiness, it is him, so I will be happy for him knowing we have shared a friendship that no one else can ever imagine, seen things you can only dream about,share secrets the universe will only know. I will break for a moment, I will cry, I will not explain myself to anyone, and I will bottle the energy and be thankful to everything in me that I have known some one that has stirred this kind of love in me. We are family and broken pieces are easily put back with time. If you read this , I miss you....

I'm dancing in the room as if I was in the woods with you
No need for anything but music
Music's the reason why I know time still exists
Time still exists
Time still exists
Time still exists

So I just put my arms around you around you
And I hope that I will do no wrong
My eyes are on you they're on you
And I hope that you won't hurt me
My arms around you they're around you
And I hope that I will do no wrong
My eyes are on you they're on you they're on you

Elisa-A Time For Dancing

pretty good ehh?

New New Oh so new tattoo!

Jeremy and I finally got our tattoos last night. I think they turned out super!!!!

Welcome to my space...

I was on my niece's myspace page tonite, prowling her comments like a good pseudo guardian should, leaving embarrassing comments to all the boys that say she's cute. This whole myspace thing is a fiasco if you ask me, i didn't like about 90 percent of the crap those kids are posting. Beware you little assholes, she might be cute but her aunt will kick your nuts into your brains. Was that too violent?

Lazy Sunday

Sandra and I spent a lazy sunday morning wandering around down town in the mercado. We also headed over to the Spanish Governor's Palace to take some pics of the planters I did for them. It's a really cool old historic building, I'm happy I did the planters, otherwise I might have never gone to see it. Win win.

What a difference a day makes

Sandra and I only got to spend a couple days at the beach, but it was great. Tons of fun pictures, plus the SPURS WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP! This is a big deal to a san antonian. I love the ocean. I think we will be negotiating a move there in the soon future.

To the end ofthe earth

No one will follow you with such blind faith as your dog. She trusts completely, even on the edge of something brand new. She plodded right along with me into the waves on the island this week. I am so happy I got a dog, she's great. Olive the super chihuahua was not to be out done though, head long in the water with me. Dogs are funny companions. I have always been a cat person, don't get me wrong, I love my Lola, but the girls are right there, always want to be in my business. It's really cool how much they trust me to lead them. I'm really glad I waited 20 years to get another dog.

Good morning tree

It ain't no thing but a chicken wing. Another pretty south texas storm deposited a tree on my roof friday night. I thinkit was struck by lightining, plenty of fire wood either way (I bought beer). Crushed the shrubs and landscaping, just another day. Insureance man soon to follow. I think the roof was spared. It's the small things, right?

Lay your money down

Well, I put money down to reserve a day for my tatoo. July friday the 13th. Seems somehow fitting. Jeremy and I are both getting them the same day, we had to book cuz the guy is almost a month out on work. Element tatoo. Check it out, they seem pretty nice, down to earth. I'm excited. The tree is the tatoo he is working up for me, and a black and grey piece , same tree for Jeremy. Sweet!!!!!!!!

Peace with the past

It's dark now,
but the memory of sun still stings my face.
It's quiet now,
but the sound of laughter still fills this place.
I'm older now,
horsing around takes a toll on my bones.
You're older now,
playtime is replaced with calls on the phone.
The wind is blowing,
if you listen it sings songs of the past.
The moon is fading quickly,
summer days just are not meant to last.
It's dark now,
silence echoes deep in my soul.
It's quiet now,
I do think I shall like this growing old.

Daemons

A sign?

If you look close, it says objects in mirror are closer than they appear. I think this might be a sign that the beach is closer than appears. I see a trip to the gulf in my near future...yes, a little beach bum weekend.

Mess with the bull...

When you mess with the bull, you get the horns. I guess I was sufficiantly pissed off the other day , this morning when the little turd head showed up, the owner met him at the gate and told him to take a hike. I must say I didn't even bat an eye, this kid was truly a piece of shit. Second chances are for people that deserve them, and he deserves a good swift kick in the ass. That ends that chapter in Shitty employees weekly.

Bring on the rain...

Can I just say today sucked? I guess I can since I just did. I don't like negative energy, it wraps me up like a blanket. I don't like people that thrive on the need to be negative. Today one of the new punks at work started spouting off shit he knew nothing about. Long story short, you better have a damned tall ladder if you plan to get high enough to jump down my throat. He's one of those charming boys, the product greasing his hair down hides the horns. He thinks he can flash a smile and the world including me will fall to his beck and call. Can you here me now...FUCK YOU. I worked damn hard to get where I am in life, and I sure as he won't let some probation officer seeing, piss in a cup weekly, married woman dating piece of shit kid, tell me how to do my job. So, I jerked his ass up and tore him a new asshole in front of the owner, left him standing with his mouth open.
It sucked. I don't like getting that angry. It's like a storm. You see the roof shake, but you can keep it on the building. It does bad things to my spirit. Makes me feel like shit even when I am in the right. What part of a person just enjoys spurring someone else on to anger. What kind of person allows someone to anger them so much. When I was little, we never had much, and I always had to work hard for the things I got. Sometimes I would let myself get so angry as a kid that I would break whatever was most important to me at the time. Weird, not something of the person that angered me, something of my own. Once a radio, once I ripped the ear off of my teddy bear. I cried so hard and my mom sewed so fast to fix it that she didn't allow for the hem, today that bear is still here with me, one ear bigger than the other, and stitches in his neck. Today felt alot like that, I let someone get under my skin, someone that owns no stock in me, someone that I care nothing about. Hours later, I am still thinking about how angry it made me. The picture is from this spring near Holly Beach Louisiana. Several years after Katrina, much of the town still looks like this, a house was standing here. One violent uncontrolled episode from mother nature, and the land there is scarred for decades. I can't help but think about being better. So many people get angry, hurt, sad, and broken down by things outside of their control. It's not really a big deal, more just a rambling thought that was on my mind... It just took so much energy to be that angry. It didn't last that long, and sure I calmed down and went on with my day, Hell, I'm not even sure where I was going anymore. Just like a storm, comes fast and goes fast, but when they are big enough, everybody remembers...

The life of a ...

I stumbled across this poem I wrote in 2005, decided to post it again...

toes on the edge...
wait for it...
wait for it....
the build up is electric...
wait for it...
nothing between you and the ground...
wait for it....
in a moment you will know...
feel...
be...
EVERYTHING
wait for it...
static arcs...
wait for it...
lean in...
the air is the only thing holding you in place...
wait for it...
inhale...
wait for it...
let go...
let go...
let go...
sweet release...
fall...
Fall...
FAll...
FALLLLL...
THE WAIT IS OVER...
fall...
fall...
fall...
contact...
impact...
no more wait...
you disperse into a million places...
pieces...
things...
energies...
moments...
you are...
you know...
you thrive...
i think this is how a raindrop feels. i want to be a raindrop.

I never promised you a rose garden.

Okay, so maybe I did!

This is the finished rose garden I promised S. for her birthday. The palm tree was just a little extra credit thing I threw in for a bit of the tropics, perhaps the rum I was drinking inspired me. Hehe, anyway, nobody can tell me I don't deliver when I promise them a rose garden.

So close kin

This is a spawn of a post I made earlier tonite, it is what it is...

What do you say when the party is over
what do you say when you lose a friend
what do you do when you can't take it back
when passion and pain are so close kin

what do you do when the hurt isn't yours
what do you do for a cut so deep
what can you offer in a moment of sorrow
when all you can do is sleep

what do you say when the storm blows over
what do you do when the mess is made
what can be done to pick up the pieces
you do nothing, the price is already paid...

Tomorrow

Tommorrow will be easier, she said
Tonight the dreams will be deep
Tomorrow will be easier
Tonight I must simply sleep.

Tomorrow will come want it or not
Tomorrow will be easier
Tears on a pillow never a day stopped
Tomorrow will be easier

Tomorrow the sun will shine
Tomorrow I will wipe my eyes
Tomorrow will be easier
Tomorrow will be mine.

Sleep well

Stormy week

What a weird week it's been. Stressful, but good, and bad, and hectic...lots of things. Sandras birthday was yesterday. It was nice, the two of us went to a quiet romantic dinner, I gave her her presents. The best one I think is the rose garden. She has been talking about roses for a while, so I got five, and on my days off I'm building nine foot bed for her to putter around in out back. I must admit, I also enjoy having roses around. (Pics will follow of the bed when it's done)
Work has been crazy. I found out that a jackass co-worker that I thought was a friend has been the instigater in an on going misunderstanding. In the mean time while dealing with this, another feller from the next town over swoops in and offers me 5000 more a year to come work for his place. Needless to say I have a lot on my plate right now, a bit of a whilwind I guess. It's all still a bit fuzzy right now, but hopefully I'll make some sense of it soon. For now I'm just gonna sit back and watch tonites storm clouds roll in...

Nodding Poppies

Today we went to the seed farms, about an hour north of here, I got some pretty neeat pics. What a beautiful day.

Bugs eye view

Poppies and passion vine

These are lyrics for Dear Mr. PRESIDENT, BY PINK. It struck a hard cord with me....maybe you too...who knows, be tolerant, we aren't all perfect, we hurt people, we break, we bleed, we make others bleed, at the end of the day we are all flesh and blood, and we all go home to lick our wounds, be careful with your stones, stones are solid, they bruise, they break, they tarnish the beautiful things we build. be careful...be careful...be careful...stones are solid and when they leave your hand they make a mark, we live with the stones we cast. I am daily gathering the stones I have cast in ignorance... I can't tell some people just how sorry I am...


"Dear Mr. President,
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.

What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?

Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.

What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?

Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh

How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?"

Life

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places."


- Ernest Miller Hemingway

Storm green

You know that crisp clean green the foliage gets just before a storm. The vibrance of the sun as it is being chased by the clouds. That has to be one of my favorite colors in life. Storm green. The last few moments of sunlight fade and there in lies the rain. My life seems like a lovely shade of storm green lately. It's almost as if I can feel a storm building just around the corner. Maybe thats just a bit of the dramatics kicking up in me, but I feel like I need a good storm in my life every once in a while to make me appreciate all the sunny days that get laid at my feet. Alot of people have told me I always have my head in the clouds, and to them I say kiss my ass, I 'll see a good storm coming way the hell before they will, and when you see it coming it always softens the blow. Stormy weather, adjectives, greens and greys, write it on paper, wad it up, in the end it['s all just trash anyways...

You Are The Hanging Man

You represent the seeking of enlightenment and spiritual clarity. You tend to confuse others, but your oddities seem deeply satisfying. Self sacrifice is easy for you, especially if it makes you a better person in the end. You are the type of person who is very in touch with your soul and inner spirit. Your fortune: Right now is a good time for reflection and meditation. You should stop resisting the problems in your life, and let yourself be vulnerable to them. You may need to sacrifice something important to you to move ahead in your life. Accept your destiny with courage, and learn to let go of what you think you need.

What Tarot Card Are You?

You Are Running on 84% Adrenaline

Your Adrenaline Level: Very Dangerous Life is passing you by so quickly, you hardly can notice what's going on. You definitely need to slow down before you crash hard!

Are You Running on Adrenaline?

Sheep in wool clothing

I was walking through the local wal-mart, minding my own, when I hear out of nowhere someone shout my name. Now I am not a social butterfly, I do not seek companions, those of you reading this are probably shaking your head and chuckling a little, I digress. It was more than a little strange, because I have lived here going on three years now, and to my knowledge have yet to make any real friends, or acquaintances for that matter. It was almost like my bubble had been burst. My little shell had been cracked. My invisibility cloak had fallen off. I didn't like it. It turned out to be a plant junkie that recognized me from work and wanted to ask me about this bug and that flower, yada yada, but the heart of the matter is just how much I like this new life where I don't run into "old high school pals", or pregnant cousins, or ex's or past teachers or lovers or preachers or anybody. I have really done it. So tomorrow, when I go to this or that random convenient store for gum or soda, or whatever it is I need, I will smile, and know that I am a recreated me, in old me clothing. Kinda like a sheep wearing wool, still me, just me on my own terms. Weird these thoughts that come and go.

Some sweet morning

"Run!" I could feel the hair standing up on my neck as I scrambled over the fence. The bib of my cut-off overalls flapping against me with every step. The three of us had beaten every bloom on my grandmothers snowball bush silly, and danced in the April sun as the petals fell on our heads. My two brothers were older and could run faster, and further, and me being the youngest and the only girl, I was bound to the property with an invisible band that even I knew better than to break. I would get my butt busted and be back in the house playing paper dolls by the time the boys came home to face the full festered wrath of a woman suffering the loss of a prized garden pet. I miss those days. I use to lay in the back yard under the oaks and tie clover flowers together all day making chains. I would drape them from this tree to that junk car, tie them on the old stray dogs collar. These are the places I hide now in my heart. These are the things you can only have once. I long for those sweet spring mornings when we would wake up to the sound of the old steam train making the rounds with tourist "visiting the countryside". I use to run to the track and wave at the people and think to myself how lucky they were to see the world, even if it was just a small stretch from Tennessee to Kentucky. I'm realitivly young to have experienced a childhood like I did. I remember getting indoor plumbing. It was pretty darn cool the first time hot water came out of the wall and not off of the stove. The heat came from the fireplace, the AC came from opening the windows, and the education started as soon as you woke up. I think I could snap beans before I could talk, I rode on a tractor before I rode a bike, and I would have rather been feeding dirt to the cows than dressing up for sunday school anyday. I spent my summers barefoot and stringy haired making mud pies in the garden. I spent my winters dreaming of summers. I loved sleeping there in the one room with my family. The boys in one bed, me and my mom in the other. By todays standards we were dirt poor, but I thought I had everything as long as I could stare out that open window at night, away from street lights, no cars going by, lightining bugs flashing in a jar on the window seal, dozing off to sleep dreaming of the smell of the next sweet morning...