The knocking woke her from a hazy dream about summer fun… turquoise waves and soft warm sand and being held in loving arms…
Oh, it wasn’t the door—a torrentialhail storm had begun. When she peeked out the window, she spied clumps of ice littering the garden. Her poor tomato plants huddled together in a sad droopy mess. At least they had each other, she thought.
As she put water in the kettle, she knew it would be a challenge to forget the fantasy of him and get on with a new life. She couldn’t control her dreams, but she was in charge of her waking hours. She remembered reading that completing small, mundane tasks would help the healing process and get things back on track. She vowed to start today.
First on the list was cleaning the freezer and disposing of his body. It was time.
Emma pushed the Scrabble dictionary at him. “Is too. Look it up. But if you lose the challenge, you lose your turn.”
“Fine, take your points,” Trevor huffed. “But I’m googling it anyway. Oh geez, Chinese life force, usually spelled c-h-i. No wonder I didn’t know it. That’s not a normal English word.”
“Trev, you can’t clingforeverto your old-fashioned ideas of what’s normal. Qi is a perfectly cromulent word.”
Trev rolled his eyes and played “bitch,” but it was worth only 12 points.
The dream of utopiabeckoned to me and I succumbed to its shining promise. I walked into the morning mist as music filled the stillness. An amazingfuture unfolded when your words painted a picture of forever bliss. And then the scene ended, they broke down the set, and I handed ‘round the coffees.
Her mood’s not so buoyant When the existential dread Creeps across her fertile mind As she lay silent in her bed. She feels deep underwater And overwhelmed by the tide Of impending crash disasters She conjures up inside. Reading morning news Jeopardizes peaceful day, Replaces hope with hurt, Strips serenity away.
“Do you see what I see, honey?” Tanya said to her mate. “A fresh delicious meal right there.”
“Mmm!” Claus growled. “I could devourthe entire herd. Luscious juicy flesh, crunchy meaty bones, and lovely bloody guts!”
Tanya nuzzled him. “You certainly paint a vivid picture! Go get one and alleviateour hunger.”
“Me?” Claus stepped back. “You go get one. I need to see a man about a horse. Anyway, it’s written that the wife gets the food. I do the important guard stuff.”
Tanya rolled her eyes. “Guard against what? We’re the top predators here.”
“A snake!” Claus yelled. “RAWR RAWR!”
“Where?” Tanya swatted him. “There’s no snake, you lazy bum. And your silly rawring scared away all the antelopes.”
The tigers stared out at the empty plain.
“Oh well. I guess it’s leftover ostrich salad again,” Claus sighed. “Maybe tomorrow we can hunt together.”
When I saw today that the mighty Nox has returned with the Daily Spur prompts, I shrieked like a banshee. Well, not really. I don’t even know what a banshee is. All I know is that if you scream like one, that’s a lot of screaming. But not having the Daily Spur prompt in my list was certainly an intangibleloss. I did try to huntthem down, but it appeared they were gone forever. And then poof! this morning they reappeared like magic. Creating new bloggery was a cinch when all the prompt words joined together in my mind.
Shelline had been warned to stay away from the door. Her blind grandmother had related tales of horror that supposedly occurred behind the leafy stone walls. “It’s a devil’s garden,” Nana had whispered hoarsely late at night when Shelline couldn’t sleep. “And a labyrinthto darkness from which there is no escape except by sacrificing that which you hold most dear. How do you think I lost my eyesight?”
But it had been a year of terrible adversity with the death of Grandmama in January and Shelline’s parents in the summer. The creditors would soon come to take this house and gardens, and Shelline would be shipped off to nasty Aunt Philippa. Shelline began to cryagain as she wandered back to the stone wall and the vine-covered doorway. What could be worse than this life, she decided.
The air beyond the door was damp and cool, smelling faintly of mint. This isn’t so bad, Shelline thought… maybe I could stay here and be happy. A brook with bubbling fresh clear water caught her attention and fruit trees abounded. Beyond them, she discerned a vegetable garden and skipped off to investigate further. A scampering golden puppy joined her, licking her hand with its warm tongue.
“I shall name you Angel!” Shelline told the puppy as it wagged its sweet little tail.
Shelline and Angel strolled through rows of tomatoes and cucumbers and strawberries galore. Down the line was a scarecrow, but he wasn’t the least bit scary and bluebirds twittered around him. Angel woofed at the birds and Shelline giggled. Further back was a hut that seemed to be filled with gardening supplies.
As Shelline and Angel walked around the wooden structure, a familiar figure greeted them. “What took you so long?” hissed Aunt Philippa. “There’s much work to do.”
Dr. Tanya continues her blogging about bloggers’ blogs blog bloggery by asking what we did wrong way back when. My wayback is probably older than most, since I began all this in 2003, with a blog on blogspot named “Ultrablog ~ Purple prose from Orange County… it’s ULTRAVIOLET!” That was my Usenet nickname and a group of us were fond of trying new fads. I took to blogging right away and even purchased a template to match my purple theme. Loads of my fellow Usenetters have disappeared from Blogland and simply hang out on Facebook now. But I like blogging best of all social media. 😍
My posts back then were about me and my opinions. I didn’t post much or any fiction/poetry; instead I blabbed on about my takes on the news or annoying incidents and just whatever. I did jabber way more about my kids, people I knew, and even work a little. I hate to say this, but because I was married to a lawyer, I felt safe in doing as I pleased. I had no fear of writing absolutely horrible stuff to other Usenetters while engaging in “combat prose” (it was mutual) and adding my bit of badness to the atmosphere of awfulness that has become exponentially worse as time goes on. My Usenet attitude/persona carried over into my blogging. 😎
Most of my posts were short then, except a few frothy rants, and I generally flung some nonsense out 2-3 times per day. I received tons of comments and views because I had linked up with other bloggers who wanted to increase their stats, and we all visited each other’s posts constantly. I got totally caught up in the stats obsession and felt bummed out when my views sunk below 300/day or a post failed to get comments in the double digits. I participated in blog arguments and deliberately took on controversial views, all in order to get more “hits.” Finally, I ended up in a nasty flamewar (over pit bulls, lol), flamers began impersonating each other, my comment section got wrecked, and I quit. 😡
My mistakes were obvious: worrying about stats, deliberately fanning flames, jumping into arguments at other blogs, and revealing too much about my life, including photos. I consoled myself that I did less of all this than the super-popular mommy bloggers, but even so. Ick! 😝🙁😢
I missed blogging though. I began a few new boring ones, a couple private ones, and this one… which ended up as my favorite. The others are all gone with some archived in my own files. When I started on WordPress, I was determined not to care about stats, not to post about politics, and not to get involved in arguments. If anyone starts crap here, I ban them. I did make some new mistakes though ~ when I was dating (🤮), I would post about some of the things that upset me or that I found funny. Then, when I met someone I actually liked (rare), I’d frantically delete all the dating posts before they could read them. Rinse, repeat.
I haven’t deleted a post here in a long time. I doubt I would even if I met someone I liked romantically. They’d just have to deal with who I really am, and vice versa. 🤪 Not that I can imagine this happening imminently or even ever! 🤣 Anyway, I still enjoy blogging a lot, love the feedback on my writing, and have no plans to quit, despite the periodic glitches we have to deal with. Personally, I find the block editor a lot less annoying than that jerk who was copying our content a while ago. There will always be something…
“So, I introduced Dad to my new boyfriendKen last night,” Barbara said to her friend Midge as they perused the brunch menu.
Midge peered at Barbara over the menu. “Ooh! How did that go? He’s always had so much antipathyto everyone you’ve dated.”
“Dad is just quixotic.” Barbara shrugged. “He has such grand ideals, but normal people can’t live up to them. However, this time he was unperturbedby my choice.”
“I assume that’s because Ken didn’t argue with your dad about politics?” Midge smiled.
“Ken didn’t say a word!” Barbara laughed. “I’ve found a genuinetrophy this time. The strawberry French toast sounds good to me today. How about you?”
“I’m thinking of a veggie omelette,” Midge said. “But I still think you could do better than a plastic blowup doll who never argues about anything.”
Let the extraneous fade away; Begone the chaos of the day, For I cannot control time’s cascade. Instead I focus on the small: A leaf, a bud, the soothing rain, The wind that whispers down the hall. If I am mindful when night falls, Will I sense an order to it all?
