13 Oct 15
A companion for which I apply, of similar ‘youthful’ physical abilities, energy & endurance as mine, to complete required daily tasks; Also, light heart & peaceful Spirit of equal tenderness of Time. To qualify as applicant, a varied & heartiness of wit & humor must be possessed, not without the gentle love of family animals both common & not and the skill to be good shepherd.
Acceptance of, to be removed of civil amenities, to live an unusual life, in an uncommon home a must. Well-read & educated, fleet & free of constraint to think outside the proverbial box, with eagerness to live & learn anew, is what I seek.
If you deem to avail yourself of this application, please submit a 200- 500 word essay, by way of introduction, of all you pose to offer in skill and pleasant nature, three of your best self-portraits, and several means for immediate contact. Receipt of anything less will be discarded.
To gain insight into the Adventure upon which you might hope to embark, feel free to peruse the blog where my story does unfold…..
Those chosen for interview will submit to an overnight stay, to participate in whole, to determine if there is a chemistry & fit by all parties concerned.
Thank you, in advance for your time & interest- please have a Groovi Day!
If only you Knew~
the Thrill it is,
the Chills you give,
the Ecstatic rush of Bliss you are to me.
It’s like the Hallowed bag of chocolates
stolen from under your parent’s watchful eye
to be greedily devoured
by flashlight
beneath the covers of One’s Bed.
“Yumm!”
says my Guilty & Content
Chocolate-covered Smile….
*written while he lie sleeping in my bed…. 27 July-15
When I works
I works hard;
When I stop works
I falls down….
21 June-15 0315
Now that I have found my One True Bliss,
I must wonder would I still….
…have wanted to Know It?
….sought to Claim It?
…..and/or strove to Attain It?
Had I known the Cost was to Sacrifice my only heart to Thor & his iron anvil
to be Broken o’er & o’er until the End of Time…?
20 June-15
Dear Government:
So here it is- the Final Moment, where “the tune has come to me, at last.” ~Led Zeppelin
I tried very hard- gave it more than my best at this fourth?! and final attempt, to play a bureaucratic game of musical papers to weed out the frauds & deceivers….. oh this ‘need’ I understand- its use logical and economically sound, at one time, but the rules, if there ever really were any, keep changing when it appears they ever might be understood.
I have indeed been quite the sporting competitor, as much as I could, but without the alleged ‘Help’ that was promised and never found- this is the best that I can do on my own.
First and last, you should never promise that which is not yours to give, nor that which you never had. Every document ever received by me from you, PROMISED help with your papers if I needed them. I did. And I called every number, spoke to every name, but all vaguely knew of this rumoured helping person- not their name or number, mind you- but only adding further life to ancient rumours and more assurance to me with any certainty that it was not them. And before hanging up on my incompleteness of required forms, gave me yet another name and number in a series, that after two months of physical pain, anguish, sleeplessness, inability to eat, nightmares, panic, anxiety, despair, unnecessary cause for fragility- torment & torture that are not yours to give in the quest for my qualification to a caste of societies’ cast-offs…. This is all I have to offer on my own desperate behalf.
NEVER, have I been unwilling– I have been physically, mentally and emotionally UNABLE to fill in the lines that the rules require “not to be left blank”….. this is what is called one of my personal DISABILITIES that is your job to discern & assess. Which should have been self-explanatory all along by my desperate need to find the never-existent paper-helping-person, whose job it should have been to know that on that wasted 2-1/2 hour appointment almost two months past now, all the proper words could’ve been already in place on their proper lines, as required by you. Instead, I was given one Belle Hinkle, government representative that not only REFUSED the help I was promised, but could only be bothered with collecting employment history that she could not even effectively document even remotely accurate enough, that I had to make yet another call to correct no less than half of the data that was documented WRONG! And, even more special, is that 20 more pages have been added to my torment of required papers and proper placement of alphabetic characters concerning, of all things- EMPLOYMENT HISTORY.
2 months ago, it was & could have been so simple for all involved if One person in that very precious and now lost Moment, to ask the questions, listen to my answers, and write the proper words on said forms. Done. Neat. Time-effective. And efficient. And did I mention- Done?
The following is a summation of the questions asked, but in the only way I can answer. Included are the notes I tried to draft, like a word search, where I thought I could select out the proper words to fit in the tiny lines provided. I was not up to the challenge- tho my attempts were endless. Though NONE OF THIS MATTERS, because on 21 January, 2015, Belle Hinkle had already judged me as “not taking my paperwork seriously enough, so my disabilities is not SERIOUS ENOUGH either.” Thus began a 2-month-long undeserved & completely unnecessary panic attack, which I am now done with. Thank you for that special experience.
In my history, I was raised 2nd to youngest amongst 10 wild and beastly boys. There was a woman there, but I had no Mother. I was raised, by them, as a Boy. I was raised to believe that there was NOTHING that I could not do. Over the last 40 years, I learned that there were 6 things that I needed to do in my life that were completely beyond me: electricity, peeing my name in cursive in the snow, knitting, cooking dried beans, fuel injected mechanics and hot-wiring a car. Make that 7…. I cannot ride a motorcycle. Everything else that I wanted to, needed to or was asked to do in my life, I excelled at. This life led me to “chase the money” in The Trades.
From the SSI man, Tom B. (it was also written that if I needed help I could call him!) I received no answers other than apologies, another name and number, but he kindly sent me a listing of the jobs, the government already possessed and could answer themselves almost every single question that was asked of me. As upon reading thru those pages I found that I could not remember even half of those most recent jobs I had had- yet ANOTHER OF MY DISABILITIES. I never said that I didn’t do them as documented incorrectly by Belle Hinkle- I said I had no memory of them, and therefore could not answer the questions in regard to them- not that I would not!
….to be continued, writing it this very moment….
….to be continued, writing it this very moment….
1: The Rogue
Knowing you
For less than a day
Has been the most electric
Few hours I have felt
In a Time
Long traveled Alone.
Why do I feel that I know you?
Why does our Familiar Comfort
Feel Centuries old?
Or
Do your lips
Just lie, becuz
They tell me exactly
What I’ve long waited to hear,
As a means to an undisputedly pleasant end?
You know, if you wanted to,
You could just leave here
Without breaking or taking my heart-
Nothing has to deviate
From the plans
Or the lives that we had
Before finding each other-
And let our spirits Forget
That they recognized its Other.
Is there really a need
To leave a void
Where a heart
Filled with ignorance
Would bear the loss much better?
Regardless,
Nothing will change
That I will feel
Your lips on mine
For days to come, long after
Your trail has grown cold
And I still smile, unconscious,
For the memory of
That One Moment shared,
And the endless fantasias
Of what could’ve been.
It would be so easy, you know,
Because the Rogue remained
Gentle Man, while
Your mad & tender kiss
Howled silent
For promise of more
Wild beyond my dreams.
It would be simple for me to pretend
Nothing more than a romance
With a traveling carnie
Of summer’s youth-
To be safely logged away
Into the journalled collections
Being jumbled to loss
Betwixt others both fanciful and real,
no longer discerned.
Such as it is,
I cannot recollect
All that might have transpired
Before, what combination of magic words
I had said to lead
To the spell
That you put me under, except
Your slow-motion lunge
To take some unknown Dare…
Millennia passed
As I denied
Then surrendered
To your counter-challenge
In the beat of a hummingbirds heart.
It could’ve merely
Been flirt and play,
Were it not for the Titans that clashed
In my logic, my body and the flood
Of lost wellsprings of my passion-
All forgotten by the unexpected
Cloud-soft touch of your lips
On mine,
Familiar, recognized…
Why does my body insist
That you are part of me-
Remembered from another Time?
Why do my lips insist
That they belong to yours?!
Perfectly matched
The contours; rhythmic
Ebb & flow passion’s
Flame incarnate.
Screaming at me to
‘Let go!’
So that memories can be remembered.
Close my eyes,
Step off the edge
Because you are the Promise
To catch me
Back into the Time & Place
Some Life ago
Right in the Where
That we left off
In the Past, Before.
I despair
For I already know
How this passion plays-
I have already seen
It’s sad end.
I beg ‘Mercy!’ of The Rogue-
Please do not offer this addiction.
The hard Truth is that
The memories you have re-awakened
Only promise to enslave
Me with unquenched passion-
As once will never be enough.
I’ll want it all.
I’ll want forever.
I’ll want it to never end.
And these are things
That are not mine
To even think
to want.
Be gentle
Sweet villainous Rogue-
May be best to leave
Me flushed & blushed
But not ravaged.
Because I am as Icarus
And you are my Sun-
The flight will be bliss to my wings…
But death
If this bird should touch you.
Oh, gods- you have no concept
Of how I want to die
Entwined in the mind-blowing fire
Of your eternal embrace.
The last thing I could but hope
To remember
Is our bodies becoming one
Inside skin- our hearts beating
As one Cosmic drum-
Our unified Essence- a Nova,
Infinite, begun.
You are my Muse, my Poem-
The Animal of my Spirit.
I am The Promise
That you won’t keep.
* and I am definitely your Fool. *
2: To You, For You, Because of You
If but for one instant
I relax my resolve & give in
to the wildfire
that you’ve set upon my heart;
I will become lost to your kiss;
I will not make
-but recreate-
love with you;
My Desires will take wing
like a flock of ducks
Startled, on the shore;
And inevitably after
When you leave my island, wild
to return to your river, rogue
All that will remain
Is the shell of myself
Like a discarded skin,
Because all that I was
And all I’ve become
Has been in preparation
In wait with anticipation
Of your arrival at my door
For my dreamed completion
And I Will have followed you home.
This half can now be whole.
3: Greater Than The Oz
You must be a great wizard
More powerful than The Oz
For you have stirred up,
scattered, shattered
completely turned me upside down,
And left my soul inside out
with just your amazing,
Incredibly addicting,
Mind-shattering,
Reality-bending
Black-hole borne kiss.
4: Poetic Kisses’ Muse
You have claimed me,
you have wrecked me,
you own me
with just one kiss.
You wonder how I can say this?
YOU MADE ME WRITE POETRY
And you made yourself my Muse!
5: Finally Knowing WHY
Certain that you’ll think this just invented
But an epiphany I must confess
That these last few years
I’ve claimed the names of
‘Almost~Alice’
and
‘The Girl Who Waited’
All the while never knowing why.
And yester’s flash of brilliance told
That the reason would be you.
I AM FINALLY-ALICE
and my Wait is finally thru.
6: Again, WithOut End
Every thought & memory
Of the kiss whose end
brings too deep regret
Drives my mind to fantasy
Of the Grail Divine.
The Bliss of Promised Nirvana
Imagined over & again
Always ends the same
With premature howling,
Soul-quaking,
Tectonics rush the body,
And the gasp & quiet breath of ‘sigh…’
Yet before the final quiver passes
This junkie’s lust demands it to repeat
And so, remember it once more.
Again.
Replayed again.
And again without end.
7: Gateway’s Nymph
NO!! I can’t!
You are The Gateway Drug
To Ecstasy
by means of Blissful sex of Nymphs.
Barely able to resist your tasty offers
Now numbered as one more Soul Lost
For there’s no known treatment
for one who succumbs to you
So I will surely be the first to fall
In a war with frigid turkeys
As your champion, true.
Twelve hours since I crawled away-
Twelve hours & still stoned on you…
* Inspired (in part) and dedicated to my dear new Friend,
Alienora Browning-Taylor,
and of course, lest we forget- The Rogue *
There has been a coup d’état!
A Rebellion & Revolution!
My government has been overthrown!
My Rule has been usurped!
“Thank you, but your Services
won’t be needed anymore….
Yes, you may leave through
the ‘Service Entrance’ out the
back now.”
….My Ducks have finally kicked me to the curb….
28 December 2014
* Please ‘Note’ the title of this blog is “DukkSheit Happens…..(almost always to) Violet Skye” *
I trust all of you, more than I trust the ‘idjits’ that currently infest my life more directly, like fleas on the proverbial camel, so I’d like to pose a quandary I have…. yes- I am seeking your advice!
here’s the thing- being only human (questionable, for some, I know, but getting back to my inquiry!), we all make mistakes when raising our children, domestic pets, husbands and ‘boyfs’ (term stolen from my Friend, Ali!), and gods only know that I’ve made twice that many rearing my young ‘Animal-Companions-In-Training’…
* (insert here- ad for my “Jumpstart Poultry Farm Consultation Services”©2012 Violet Skye, tagline: “I’ve made all of the mistakes- so you don’t have to!”) *
but having so many of my good-intentions backfire in my face of recent days past, I’m at the doorpost of yet another potential “oh-shit! moment” in teaching my ducks appropriate & expected behavior.
in regard to going to the duck pond –supervised/ unsupervised & with/ without permission- they are now looking to me –literally!– for the answer. All 5 ducks, upon being released from their TreeHouse bedroom for each new day, have now begun to stand on the deck after a few moments stretching and flapping, with all 5 pair of eyes boring holes into my flesh, waiting for what they are ‘allowed’ to do next. Even Ariel –the Free & the Brave– stands waiting on her ‘Launchpad’, engine idling….
Do I:
-or-
the thing is this…. they will go down there everyday –with or without me– Regardless. It has already begun… but right now they are waiting for me to direct them on what will become their future protocol- for the remainder of all of our shared lives here at the TreeHouse.
Please…. help, Mates!
Don’t wanna screw up this critical crossroads where I stand, and
–only for this one moment–
am in control!
Today is the LAST day for the FREE Kindle download of Ali’s new book, “Come Laughing!” First, I think you would be foolish not to get it, cuz… well, it’s FREE. With our current economy- I’d say that’s no different than a typical day’s coupon shopping, right? Second- I’m gonna give you a ‘preview’ of the book reviews I’m currently writing –just due to the limited time on this particular Very Special Offer:
First I was gonna write that this book could only be appreciated by the truly uninhibited of those amongst us, but as I thought about it a few seconds more, I realized that even people that either don’t believe that they enjoy erotica; don’t KNOW that they’d enjoy erotica; and, or are unclear on what erotica truly is, would Most Definitely be enlightened at the very least, by reading this painfully short romp thru Ali’s Beliefs, Amazonian vocabulary & limitless imagination!
Before I got my copy, I wrongly assumed that it was another ‘typical’ book of erotic short stories… but to my great joy I soon discovered I was wrong! First we took a stroll thru Ali’s core beliefs about the twisted upbringing most of us were shamefully belabored by, as we then must all spend our lifetime’s unraveling the damage these fearful fairytales have done to our libidos, sex lives and ability to enjoy the fresh freedom of sex as it is really sposed to be, beyond the duties of procreation.
Nor is erotica raunchy, nasty sex stories written by pirates & degenerates- O no No NO! These stories are artfully, colorfully and tastefully written- suggestions really to get the juices flowing on what already has been lurking inside your romantically passionate heart already… just let Ali take you by the hand on this gentle & beautiful journey to the center of the Passion that was meant to be had by all!
Next –O Dear!- that Girl can turn a phrase on a dime without hesitation or taking a breath! The only vocabulary word that I ever saw her write more than once, was the word ‘the’, so the word ‘redundant’ could NEVER be used in the same sentence as her name! And her sense of humor- I don’t know if it’s cuz we are just both ‘sick puppies’ from the same litter- but she makes me laugh, even as she’s trying to make a serious point!
Biased? Of course, I’m biased! I first met Ali when I was learning the ropes of blogging, where I started ‘following’ her blog, because her writing style, (vocabulary!!) and topics spoke to my Soul! She is an excellent writer in my meager opinion, and has become a role model for me while she entertains me, and enlightens me. I don’t consider my fervor about her two newly published books as being so much biased, as it is the same kind of ‘sharing’ we all do on facebook, when we find something really Groovi we want to show the rest of our Friends.
And did I mention that today is the LAST day that you can get it FREE on Amazon?
PS—ebook doubters & poo-pooers: You DON’T NEED a Kindle to get these FREE downloads and/or to try out what this ebook craze is without buying one first- Amazon has a FREE desktop app for your PC and android-type thingys, AS WELL AS Cloud Kindle so you don’t even hafta waste precious space on your hard drive, to test drive what ebook reading is like, OR, TO ENJOY MANY MORE OF THESE FREE OFFERS! Please, give these two items a ‘looky-loo’, and by all means, get your FREE download of “Come Laughing!” by my dear Friend & incredible lifelong writer but recently published, Alienora Taylor! Clock is ticking…
I been Super-Duper…. But, of course, you KNEW that, right?
Definitely don’t wanna ‘nother ‘Two-fer’ this year, ‘PhatMann’, cuz I been soooo much better’n that! And this you know, as well!
To start- I gotta hole in me sock…. And you know what good care I take, as it’s been 12 years since the ‘mean man’ bought them two pair for me…. So you know, again, I ain’t askin’ that much. Wool and knee high would be brilliant! Thank You!
This year, it would please me so, to receive next to my stocking, a manual push-sweeper like this. I’m an avid ‘sweeper’, but all the broom does is relocate the feathers to new locations…
Also, gift cards to iTunes & Amazon (to complete my ssn. 8 Doctor WHO addiction, obtain a 2nd battery back-up for my endless writings on my laptop and/or buy more of my fave books on my Kindle!!) would be critically Awesome and a most immense influence on my Winter-Dark-Disposition, of late…
~Your Favorite Wild Island Violet
PS- I hung my stocking at the entrance to my TreeHouse, as it is ill-advised that you attempt to enter via my chimney, as it is rusted & rotted so badly that I fear it would be a death sentence for both of us if you were to try, O Friendly PhatMann in Redd.
PPS- and an inexpensive generator, if you agree that I been really, Really, REALLY Good this year, as it would be seriously way more cost effective, fuel-wise, to run my wifi modem with that, rather than with that gas hog Ford F-150 I been using…. Just sayin’…
I have written this letter a hundred times- in my head! I had meant for it to be a simple card of ‘Thanks’, in honor and appreciation of your going ‘above and beyond the call of duty’ to your fellow man in need….
But you did so much more than even that.
This morning I couldn’t stand the un-writtenness of what NEEDS MUST be said aloud- to your face, but as I’ve tried so many times before and the massive vocabulary I possess, failed me each time.
It was a Tradition in the Family that I had, for such a sadly short time, that on that Commercialized national holiday, where we were originally meant to –STOP!- and Remember…. Well we did. When others fell to worship their gods of food, football and the beginning of celebrations of mass- overindulgence of all things… each one of us, at our table, very simply, took a turn before said feast, to name, say and/or describe ONE THING that we were ‘Thankful’ for. That was it –just a simple confession of sorts- before we continued blindly & mindlessly forward into the bastardized ritual of excess.
This, my fourth year without any Family to make the last Quarter of any given year, anything but miserable and lonely, I have but one thing to Confess my Gratitude for, before I fall into my newly required religion of Hum-Buggery…..
And that would be YOU.
From~
Me.
[i] Written to The Veteran that I Care For– Thursday, November 20, 2014 7:53:24 AM
if my friends love me…. they will nominate me for a very merry “Fitzmas Wish” (can’t nominate myself or i would…. deadline is 17 December)
http://www.seattlewolf.com/pages/20439588.php
“Danger! Danger!” Young Robins-Son, no one heard you cry.
From your ‘Hundred Acre Wood’, your ‘hunny bear’ has lost his Way
And Darkness is on the nigh.
This morn, I happened across a scared & lost
Small fat bear that the day before was not there.
With spear in hand, his back against a stump,
Shivering from cold & wet, or maybe fear
Of Creatures with foul drooling breath,
That howls frightfully near.
I gathered him up, and set him safe by my fire,
And then proceeded to check
Bulletin boards at feed stores, and even on CraigsList.
But nowhere there, did I spy, your fervent words of loss & regret.
Your priorities must be askew,
Your so-called ‘Friends’, they are in question.
It’s most definite that “Nature is Out of Balance,”
For you to not’ve known, he was Out There, and Alone-
That your smallest of Friends was not safe in his Home.
Now that he has been fed, warmed & dried,
We have had a chance to talk, as I sharpen his tiny spear
With the new belt knife that I have him Gifted,
So he now knows that he has a Choice
To stay here in The FaeriWood
Where his gentle giant Spirit may be uplifted.
Or return to be “with Friends like you…”
Where All the World is Lost.
Homemade soup, and no clean bowls…. what’s a Girl to do?
Banks of our ‘trickle creek’ have gone well beyond the ‘Winter Falls’ tree root dam, with an almost 3’ drop to it, now! Abbi has had to use a different route to enter His Pond, as he can no longer get to the lower dam, due to the powerful current. He doesn’t like to spend more time in it, than necessary, due to the fact that he is forced to ‘share’ His Space with the influx of ‘Commuter’ Coho since October…. He doesn’t appreciate all the friendly toe nipping he receives!
As you Walk this Rock,
Your Path thru Life-
The Way is very Simple;
Gently Use, Re-Use & Re-Purpose
Or Live Without Trace
And Let Live.
Off-The-Grid-Girl, Violet Skye©22Nov14
“I’m sure it was for me- My name was on the box. My Hatch-, Name- and Birth- Day is near at hand!” I whine as I return to find my chair now occupied by three, not one.
But Miss Lilli glared her scary, beady stare, perched upon it nicely, and flatly clucked & growled, “You’re WRONG! Once again, so Very Wrong!”
“But-“, I start, “She’s my Friend, and worries for my old & cold bones!”
“I read the letter,” Chloe purrs, as she moves in to claim her half of the Prize, “NoWhere in There does it say that it’s for you!”
“But-“, I try again, to prove my claim, “She loves me so, that she bought a plane ticket for ‘Taunton’ here, (the name of my new, Warm Friend, from the Shire of ‘Huggs~Luv’), to fly across a nation and an ocean!”
Please be Advised, especially when the Hen & Cat Unite- it’s for the Best that you do not cross.
“I pull-up a tiny folding camp chair nearby, instead, “I guess you’ll be wanting this Lovely British Tea, with Ginger, Chamomile & Orange Peel, as well?”
♥
♥
♥
♥
an excerpt from a letter to a Friend, I just wrote:
“….You inquire after me -So Sweet that you are!- but i’m sad to report that i currently suffer from loneliness, depression & despair.
I received this Compound Bow as a birthday gift. I love it, except that I don’t have enough lead in my bucket to draw it more than a few inches- therefore it is not functional to me. nor do I have an income to change that.
It’s in beautiful condition, with lots of professional looking equipment (fletching kit, 19 arrows- straight, awesome stabilizer, leather belt quiver, unused score cards, tools, and other snazzy items I can’t identify yet.) that goes with it.
I have 30 more pictures of detail, and will email complete set to interested parties.
Value unknown to me, but the previous owner used it “professionally”, according to the son. And, incredibly, it has 2 keys that lock all 3 locks on it! how often does that happen?
Would like to sell it to someone that can use it, as I have other needs that require cash (toilet paper, propane, candles, etc.).
Oh…. Cat and the view from my TreeHouse are not included!
PS– PLEASE share this with everyone you know! (Ted Nugent?!)
I’ve seen more than everything, now!
My Duck just pulled a fern frond down into water, turned and grabbing it by its uppermost ‘nape’, straddled its lower region, and while peddling fervently trying to get a good stance on the fronds ‘back’, proceeded to let loose his ‘corkscrew’, ejaculating into the pond, and ending this horrific ‘passion play’ by ‘falling off’ of the frond, back into the pond where he flaps his wings and rising up into the air with a smile on his duck-face-
just like he always does after sex!
After I return from that place of shock & awe, I pick my jaw up off the ground and say the only thing that comes to my mind….
“Can I offer you a cigarette?”
UPDATE: This post was written yester….. since then, he has DONE IT AGAIN, so I was NOT Delusional the First time I saw this, like most would believe!
AND- TWO PEKIN SISTERS, Penelope & Henrietta, ANSWERED HIS AD IN THE PERSONALS, ON CRAIGSLIST!!!! Cross your fingers for Him, as the first 2 Sisters that answered his ad last month, Never wrote back, after He responded to their reply!!!
GOOD LUCK, Lil Buddy- cuz it scares me the way you look at me, now!!
————————————————
I officially declare today the first real day of ‘Leaf Fall’ (Warriors’ Winter)….
After a sudden overnight drop from yester’s low 40’s to this morn’s 18 degrees, all the moisture in the local deadfall in the ravine created some of the best new natural art that I’ve seen in awhile-
Ice crystals from 1”- 3” in length, and the texture of Angel Hair when squeezed between your fingers….
Simply Amazing!!
————————————————————–
And finally, in regard to FaeriWood Amethysts….
I was thinking that not all of Life is like a box of chocolates, but sometimes it’s like a Bus Stop.
Sometimes, people and objects belong to us (family & friends), and other times, they spend only Moments with us for Greater Purposes of The Timeline, or maybe only just some Memories that need to be Born…. They are with us only as long as it takes for their bus to come and take them to their True Destination.
Would you agree?
12 November -14
It’s “O’Light-Thirty”…
And my House in the Trees
is frighteningly Chilly!
Should’ve roused so more Earlier
to keep ‘The Flame of my Well-Being’
Well-tended & yet, Still Alive!
Begrudged but Grateful to the Little, white, fur-ball One
that woke me with Her grinding edged crankiness
(reminiscent of my Ol’ Gran, They once called ‘Betty’)
for She used me as Her trampoline,
Her Steppe, from Her Plateau,
Her soft place to dismount Her Aerie on my bed’s Rail.
The Voice of All Nature’s Mother
calling Her to Duty!
Then Her Squawks turn to raucous cries:
Urgent- then Desperate- to Frantic clucks, that Remembered-
“My Child- My poor, Lost Child!”
She races thru the Dimness for Her bucket
by The View
where She Lay, each Day.
Most like the Kookaburra, now, takes on the sound of Her Wail!
I, myself, have now risen
and layered myself against my new Companion of Arctic Cold,
with pullover- hooded and ‘moccs’ that are calf-high:
kept under the warm mound of fleece and wool, with me
that is my nest, in the dry, walled-in perch in the Sky.
My Second-skin, they are
from a Good & Kind deer-Friend, Long Ago.
A Friend of my Family, It once came to feed.
Now, with me, It stays, the Warmest of Friendly Companions, I ever could need!
Then, Her piercing “Caw-caw-caw!” rises to crescendo-
charging Life into to my Young Master Roo,
that is now Wake, Alert & Ready for His Day.
Join in Her cries of Despair
with His ‘Trumpetuous’ blare
“O, gods, how my solar alarm can be deafening!
A shame, tho, that it was I that woke Them!”
I pull the curtain back, that hangs from Our collective View,
and settling briefly in, on His Young Majesty’s throne-y perch
lighting a fag, and looking down into the Far Below.
And then, what does my monocular, I call “Little Eye”, spy?
“What’s this, on ‘Abbi’s Pond’ that isn’t Abbi?”
“What’s fishing there, that isn’t me?”
Hmmm…. apparently a fat-assed neighbor Coon,
has decided to beat me to This Day’s Catch!
Well-played, Sir Coon! And you can keep your bloody prey-
for lifting mine (ass) from this chair, I must leave this Moment’s Reverie and stolen slice of Silent Time,
to return once more to my Duties of the Present:
to bring Life to ‘Fyre’, for in the many long, cold, Dark months ahead
will be the Heart of Mine!
*A Note from a certain Island poet:
from the moment I woke –it was then 0530 hours- by the Dawning Light, til the actual Arrival of the Day’s Sun, o’r the Trees that hide All, on my Island –0830 hours by the clock on the TreeHouse wall!!! Gads! I’m behind already! Argued by Ignorant Mainlanders, my Day truly ends at 1600 hours here, Inside the Ravine, at the Edge of The FaeriWood, Under the Ever-Canopy, on My (In)side of this little Isle!
Until we meet next, My Dear & Faithful Friends- most-likely by lighted wick, no doubts, when that will happen again!
Home at last! Miss it, do you?
How long were you Home before you messaged me I wonder…?
Don’t mind me- at this moment, I am delirious with Fever. For two days, every square inch of my fibre; Every microscopic nerve ending; Every joint- nay! Every Bone in my Body screamed with pain & Fyre! And The Cold- I was so, so very cold Thru & Thru that I could’ve kept your wine iced for weeks on End!! (Then I found a “random button”… what meaning, I wondered…)
I wanted to Die.
Actually- I Begged to Die.
Then- to my utter Amazement, I actually Went to That Other Place. And The Gods that Rule That Place, didn’t Want me There either….
I am so Disappointed. I am so Angry!! I am so…. at a Loss. For my Place of Peace.
O, Gods- I am so very Sick! Not just of The Body, but of The Mind and Spirit, as well.
I Hate Being Alone, on these Rare Weak Moments of My Life. I have no Mother to Cry to. Orphans can only wonder what Comfort that must be, for the Sick Child to be petted, to be shushed, to be warmed by Her tenderness, sung to with Sweet Whispers and Lullabies that drive back the Dark and The Terrors that wait in the Shadows to take You!
I would give anything, to Know the Touch of a Mother just once in my Life before I die!
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I don’t know if what I have is Contagious -I am certain I should have been taken to Hospital last night…. If I had Someone that Cared Watching over me. But I don’t. And I didn’t.
The cacophony of “White-Feathered” Critters demanding their collective release from Bondage drove me from my Delirium temporarily. For I am their Warden, and I still have Obligation to their Well-Being and Health. Then, the dry stock of wood needed to be replenished to drive back the Chill and moisture that invades my TreeHouse, now that the Ambient temp is almost matched to the overnight lows of low 30’s to mid- 20’s in The FaeriWood where I live, this week….
So on to that, as the light here is gone in about 2 hours (4 PM-ish, due to the location on The Ravine, the Forest canopy, still thick and my location on My Island in relation to the Setting Sun).
I would love to see You. To Meet You and to be invited Inside of Your Life as a New Friend! Just…. not to Your detriment, is my Concern, as Health is very important to me after a hard half Century lived….
Also, so you know, need that it be done- while taking my Duck for his bath in his Pond-That-Now-Overfloweth down below, I happened upon my supper swimming there, and giving Thanks for His Largeness and Sacrifice to the Strengthening of my Brokenness, now I must also start a fire in the smoker to preserve His Gift. If I weren’t so bloody ill, and You were actually here, I would instead bake it in my “Easy-Bake Oven”- His juicy tender flesh drizzled with the fresh lemons that hang from my netted pantry, in relative Safety from the Coons & coolness, and I would fetch up the skin of wine that chills in Abbi’s Pond below, for our “First Supper” together by the Fyre that drives away the Scary Shadow Monsters til the morning light comes again to My FaeriWood…..
Until The Day Comes when we finally meet, which for me- is not Soon enough…..
Yours from The Isle~
Wild Violet
Would you find me presumptuous if you knew that I write my OnGoing ‘Adventures of A Wild Violet’, for lack of a more compactly handy place than, on the Kindle pages of Thoreau’s ‘Walden’? In fact, should I care at all when I find it happily fitting?
And tho’ I am not a philosopher as such, as I sit here, brookside, pre-ponderance, there is a tickle in the back of my mind that causes me to pause and look there upon which the tiny voice that resides therein interjects his own thought that’ ‘tho’ I might be ‘pre-ponderance’, that it surely must not also be a ‘preponderance’? ‘What say you to that?’, he wonders aloud, but only to me…
Now, on to The Autumn Lessons From The FaeriWood….
First, Never go into The FaeriWood with only the Time to Trudge and Blunder…. It is Vital to maintain the Spirit within The Wood by ensuring there is the proper Time to pad Gently and pause often- to Observe and to Listen.
Second, Know the Difference ’tween ‘hearing’ and ‘listening’- for It is Great indeed.
Thirdly, Never go without at least one cat, your Duck, a sharp broad knife, a camera and/ or journal and your collection basket or net.
Fourth, at All Cost– Keep your Duck WET and your socks and butt DRY, at All Times! The Difference means EVERYTHING to the QUALITY of the Time that you spend there!!
And Finally, for This Day’s Wisdom and Advice, if you’ve no other option available, She-males will find it good to know that maple leaves provide far better comfort after relieving one’s self than alder, fern nor nettle.
A Wild Violet
“So, pretty Groovi to do laundry down at the creek with the ducks”, you ask. Well, let’s just back up about a hundred questions, to The First Question, for a moment, shall we:
“Where the Flock have you BEEN, Gyrl?!?! Don’t you know how worried we’ve all been?!”
“Why, yes. Incredibly apparent by the overwhelming amount of emails, snail~mails & phone messages I’ve received since I went offline (as I said I would) back in May”, she said, ever so snarkily.
Heh-heh-heh!
Well, we made it. Finally. For the most part- I’d say we stand at 99% HOME. (1% = TRUCK STILL TRAPPED IN HOSTILE ENVIRON, with regular promises, from more than one source, for it’s eventual rescue.)
In my absence, from YOU -my Beloved & Faithful ‘Stalkers’- I’ve taken a kazillion photos to document the passage of time for your pleasure & curiosity.
Oh, if only pictures could talk….
30 MAY 14
1 JUNE 14
ABBI WAS DEAD, when he was rushed an hour to the north to the Avian I.C.U…. with ZERO CHANCE FOR SURVIVAL…. Life Support, Emergency surgery, 34 stitches, Punctured & Collapsed lung repaired, one long, never-ending fukkn day of crying hysterically -alone & out of my mind- and $1500—later….
“TA-DA!”
‘MIRACLE DUCK!’
Half of my Family is now Gone….
….because of an irresponsible owner of a “domestic” pet out of control.
BRUTALLY MURDERED ON OUR OWN DIRT BY A TRESPASSER.
People, there is a MASSIVE DIFFERENCE ‘tween what I willingly accept from the Circle of Life in regard to the “Wildlings” we share this planet with, and the so-called domesticated beasts allowed to destroy indiscriminately –without accountability- another person’s Animal Companions. How fukkn “civilized” is that? Really?
Abbi takes a quiet moment to reflect upon the Great Loss of Those that were Murdered without Mercy or Repentance….
<(* ) ~ * ~ ( *)>
Gallifrey 8 June 13 – 30 May 14 R.I.P.
EvilRosalita FrankenDukkula 1 April 12 – 30 May 14 R.I.P.
Ami DukkPond 4 February 14 – 30 May 14 R.I.P.
Rori Willems DukkPond 5 February 14 – 30 May 14 R.I.P.
<(* ) ~ * ~ ( *)>
9 JUNE 14
RESCUED!
A man I’ve known for no less than 22 years (‘Vulture’), rented a moving truck and hired a man to remove me, the remains of my family and what’s left of my life’s worth of possessions and memories from the hostile environ that we have long-suffered, and gave us A HOME!!
RENT FREE.
Back to the very same Island that my husband took me from, 14 years ago.
I AM NO LONGER ‘HOMELESS CHICK’ !!
After 4 years, 1 month and 4 days….. I have a Home again
And ONE of the thousand Groovi things about it (cancel your afternoon plans, get a snack and a beverage, cuz I’m gonna tell you about ALL OF ‘EM!), is that it is a 10-room, Bigg-Kidd Tree House perched precariously OVER the edge of a ravine, hidden from Google Maps by the thickest canopy of thickly blanketed, moss-covered, fluorescent green fir, alder, cascara and maple old-growth forest that I can definitely confirm is inhabited by the Best Faeris in the Great Whyte Northe!!
And it is ALL MINE!
There is no electricity, and my water comes from the fresh-water Artesian Spring, approximately 100’ straight drop below my “Writing Room”
….but that is nothing, since I started Life (at age 16) on a mountain top in California, with the very same amenities, and I am quite adept at being Frontier~Gyrl, thank you very much! Actually, I really rather prefer to live like this, as it is Right in every way possible.
And, being the very Handy-Gyrl that I am, I just happen to have a power inverter, a marine battery, a 300 watt ‘genny’, 2 dozen solar lamps, the tiny woodstove I welded for my tipi & hunting trips (did I mention I am an excellent hunter, as well as Farm-Gyrl?), a half dozen head lamps that run off of dead AA batteries (this is not a typo nor a lie!!), 3 Groovi Coleman lanterns, etc., etc…..
Heh-heh-heh!
(I am just warming up here!)
….did I also mention how cute I look barefoot, in a long tank dress, with braids and feathers in my hair, and a bigg-ass shit-grin on my previously despair-filled face?
*add long, curly hair and braids to this emoticon*
In the past 2 months since I went off-line…. well, I’m having great difficulty remembering if I have ever been happier….
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Oh- before I proceed with the ‘photo album’ I’ve created for all of you to enjoy that is sitting over there on the tree-round footstool here on my open air ‘Summer Kitchen’ deck, I’ll pour you a glass of fresh-made sun tea (I have to walk across the dirt road into the clear cut to get to the sun to make it!), I’d like to throw in my ‘Acknowledgement Page’ of all that made it possible for me to endure thru the Pain, Despair & utter Defeat that I never thought I would Survive to be here with you today:
To My Best Friend, Chrissy Faery~ Thank You Dear-Heart FaeriGyrl for all of the LONG-HAND LETTERS, SKETCHES, PHOTOS & GIFTS OF CHEER THAT YOU MADE APPEAR IN THAT BEAT UP OLD MAILBOX DOWN ON THE PAVED ROAD, WITH MY NAME ON THEM!! (Received the latest one just this morning with the Incredible photos of your freakily similar landscape!! The Snail-Mail Man is bringing another your way soon!)
To My Special ‘Sista-From-Anutha-Mutha’, ‘Zip’sRide’: I check that old box each day, looking for that beach from P.R. that you ‘stole’ for my collection of un-travelled foreign lands!! MISS YOU TERRIBLY! Snail-Mail is the ‘New Black’ for this Gyrl however, so if you need me to repeat the addy, please lemme know Darlin’! Being outta touch with you is Hard on my Humour, Babe- need a reboot, ASAP!! (Or I’ll tell Mom what you did behind the barn last Friday with the Olson Twins!! )
To my ‘Duck-Face-Friend’, Anne Richards (who doesn’t even know about my blog yet): Your package of bone & joint support herbs joyful made their appearance in ‘the black box’, and have been faithfully added to my regime of recovery aids for the surgery I had last month to repair my shattered calcaneous!! I am Grateful for Your Thoughtfulness, Kindness and Loving Generosity will never be forgotten, as I am walking like I own a brand new foot!! XOXOXOX !!
To My Favorite ‘Brutha-From-Anutha-Mutha’, William DeSimone (another ‘Face-Friend’ that may or may not be aware of my blog):
Yours was my Strength & Light, when I had none of my own.
(Where did you disappear to?! I haven’t been able to respond to your last inquiry from the night before my surgery…. I hope those evil bastards have not broke down your Fortress of Peace and gotten to You or Your Loved Ones!! Please Contact me!!)
(Violet ‘throws’ a Peace sign over her Heart, to her Brother on the Other Ocean)
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DON’T PANIC~
You were not forgotten…. will mention more of my Heroes again later- or I’ll never get to the photo tour I worked so hard to bring to You!!
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BEFORE SHOTS
24 FEBRUARY 14
Telephoto shot of waterfall (future site of ‘Abbi’s Pond’) directly below my future ‘writing room’ at ‘ChickenHawk’s’ old cabin on The Island
MARCH 2014
‘MisFit Family Motel California’
Miss Lilli, HuggiBear and Ami & Rori DukkPond
By no means, was Salli a bullfrog, but she was still a very good Friend of mine….
I actually had my ‘ducks in a row’, one day….
SPRING IN MY ISLAND RAVINE….
Ravine floor….
Skunk Cabbage
Salmon Berry Blossom
telephoto shot of my cabin from the ravine floor.
Left: 3 covered deck levels; center, foreground: old classic outhouse (future coffee table or bathroom picture book I’m going to publish!!) that would’ve fallen into the ravine, except the railing is nailed to the tree, and it is resting on the the “Observation Deck” outside of my new ‘Writing/Art Room’ ; BathTUB Room; Massive Dining/Entertaining Room (hidden from view); and finally, to the far right, with one of the slider doors out of it’s track, is MY MASTER BEDROOM!
This cabin was built by an old biker/ Hippi I knew over 2 decades ago, and before his passing, he created this multi-level, 24 step, 10 room, 4 outbuilding Bigg-Kidd TreeHouse, that I would eventually inherit! It was built completely with hand tools (no electrics, remember), and eventually fitted out to run 110 outlets, lights, EVERYTHING else civilized homes would have- all by ‘genny’ or pedal-powered means (Yes, Seymour- there IS an exercise bike on the lower deck that has a charging plug coming out of the front wheel/turbine!!! Freakin’ Amazing!) Being who I am, I went around the entire structure and found that it is built AROUND and WITHIN 15 trees as PART OF IT’S STRUCTURE! Which can be both good and bad, depending on your point of view View from the future site of Abbi’s Pond –before I cut the switchback trail and 34+ steps for my and the ducks access to our Artesian water supply.
’Winter Fall’ that…. oh my garsh –I can walk under that one branch in the foreground, now!!
my tree bridge that crosses ‘Audri’s Creek’…. and the Toll is a handful of ‘Dukk Cookis’, payable to the ‘Troll-Dukk’ that lurks nearby…. “QWAK!” >(* )
TRILLIUM
‘TURKEY TAIL’
acclaimed for it’s uses by the local Natives to fight CANCER.
seriously.
APRIL 2014
1st time I ever ‘PanHandled’. Not comfortable with this activity- it took me 3 hours to work up the nerve to just hold the sign some ‘Street Kidz’ made for me, while I waited for my bus back to the Farm.
MAY 2014
Mother’s Day, I ‘hitched’ for the first time in 30 years, and was picked up by a ‘Gyrl’ that said I saved her & her daughter’s Lives 3 times, and gave them a Home -TWICE- about 15-20 years ago. Wow. I am really a very Awesome Person! Sad thing is- I barely remember these events, and only with the help of her stories.
She bought a couple bottles of wine, and took me to a park on the other side of the Island where I used to live, and we had one of the Grooviest Days, I’ve had in a veeeery loooong time!
For those that don’t live on an ocean, this is a sea snail casing. When sand gets inside a large sea snail shell, he makes ‘snail goo’ to keep it from irritating his tender flesh, and later extrudes it into to this long, leathery curly-cue, when it takes up to much of his ‘personal space’, leaving this strange curio behind on the beach for beachcombers to wonder at. Or so my Grampa told me when I was a sea-imp…. so this could be pure Shit too
Sometimes, I really hate living in the Great Whyte Northe, but I surprise myself on other times when I realize….. I kinda Diggit, too!
For my woodworking Friends….
This is for You to Drool over! (I did- for at least 2 dozen photographs!)
Okay…. for Those of You that Adore Weird Shit, like I do~
this Freaky FlutterBy landed on my shattered calcaneous 2 weeks before my surgery date….
Talk about your Butterfly Kisses, Right!
Audri is unable to sleep alone in her house
since the Day she watched her Family’s Murder….
She’s always watching me,
and cries & runs looking for me, when I get out of sight from her now.
JUNE 2014
This * is * Freakin’ * Sad & Hilarious, at the same time….
For those that don’t know…. Safeway is selling clear-cut weeds (FoxGlove) for $6/gallon. PLEASE- do not let Safeway take your money for this!! Give it to me, instead. I can get you better quality weeds, in a larger pot for the same tax-free $6- and you’d be helping a Friend feed her voracious ducks! (I don’t think Safeway feeds their ducks at all….)
3 JUNE 14
Pre-op appointment day at the county morgue…. I mean hospital!
This entire sculpture moves with the wind in at least 20 different directions!
I thought You understood how easy it is to entertain me….?
Good Grief, BatMan….. where did the time go?!?!? I gotta run and fetch the supplies I made this journey into the Village for, before my bus comes to take me back to the Island (to free my screaming Heathens from their lock-up so they can make their Pilgrimage to Their Private Pond below!) Please watch for “Welcome To The Isle Of The MisFit Toys- Pt. 2” coming soon (I hope!)
Be Groovi & Be in Peace!
Violet ♥
Yester*Freakin*Day
Pickering Passage of the Puget Sound with my very AbbiNorm L. Dukk
i told Audri a joke this afternoon, and i think the sun had gotten to her delicate brain, as my joke was really not THAT funny….
“Hey Audri, Old MacDonald @ spelling bee:
“cow. C*O*W*E*I*E*I*O.”
BUZZER SOUNDS.
“Doh!!”
Weekend Funny Challenge.
Please Help Feed My Homeless Duxx Fund:
‘Forgiveness’…. hmmm…..
i cant. this time. or maybe i wont. and this is as far as this coward can go- rebelling in silence to invisible people….
(i frightened the person at the crisis hotline on two separate occasion- into stuttering silence where i found myself reassuring them….
and the pair of sheriff that responded to the pastor’s call on my behalf, just left me there without a word… after they instructed me to wait for them there, to speak to the ‘others’….
and the retired sheriff that a 2nd pastor brought, stated out loud to me that it was definitely a case of ‘imprisonment’, but left me there to await their promised return 2 days later, after they had celebrated the Thanksgiving holiday, surrounded by people who loved them, overwhelming amounts of delicious, hot foods, followed by sleeping in front of a tv blaring a sporting event, i can only presume, with their pants unzipped in safety and comfort.
btw- they NEVER returned to get me, and i was awoke early that morning by being beat in the face with a heavy-duty commercial-grade extension cord that was stored in freezing temperatures…. where i slept at that time in an outdoor shop of an alleged adoptive family.
i had given up on the ‘religious’ after i called all 36 churches in the phonebook that week, and was never called back. my intent was to become a devil-worshipper at midnight, but since i was certain that that might require a blood sacrifice of some kind, needed to wait til i could find a safe place for my beloved Animal Companions, first….)
who exactly am i s’posed to forgive, so that i can feel better?
im sorry- maybe i dont belong here, cuz im not really a ‘survivor’ yet. i just ran out of tangible people to talk to….
my finger hovers over the ‘cancel’ button so there’s a good chance no one will even see this….. as i wonder to myself, “How Loud Do You Hafta Spell h-e-l-p?”
Delicate cornflower moth
lit, unnoticed on matching, faded paint of yonder once-blue shed.
Slow & certain rhythm in your tiny wings, flit.
not unlike auburn runners jogging
in place til the red light turns.
symmetrical black freckles mark your fragile wings
as would the Sigil’s of past Glories orange blaze.
and yet to shallow grey eyes be lost
with all the other brown specks
left behind on the old wall
commemorating golden sunny memories
of taunting ivory ducks
with chocolate mud pies flung
on distant summer rainbow days.
i still am waiting, deep in my lonely blue
for the silver-haired Vulture’s promise
that never came to save me….
and for the Red Crone’s other black shoe to fall.
copyright 2014 by ‘Almost~Alice’
“Today’s challenge, look outside gather nouns,verbs and color and write a poem to it. This is free verse.”
via Night to morn in spring (NaPoWriMo day six).
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dukk
I consider myself one of the ‘Lucky Ones’…
Though ‘my Pony’ may be ‘lame’, and my ability to do for myself is more than halved because of it, this Winter, I’m not sleeping under a Tree, as I was the last. I may not have Hot water, but I have plenty of Clean water.
I may not have Friends, but I Know a few Gentle Strangers.
My lame Pony is parked in a Safe place under a long carport with one electrical outlet. There I can have my refrigerator and use my crockpot. My Pony serves me, in place of my Freedom, now as my kitchen, pantry and apartment.
This is where I Wait with (what remains of My 8-acre Farm where I had 100+ Critters for over a decade) my 5 ducks. 3 show birds, and 3 Professional, working Farm Katz.
I consider myself very Lucky to have This Much, as I’m Forced to Wait, to be ReUnited with my Life again.
Because I happen to sleep where my truck is parked, I am Blessed with the opportunity to have not only a Food Bank 10 miles down the pavement, but a second Resource, nearby, as well. For me it is the Emerald City at the end of the Rainbow.
There’s a small, hard-to-notice building that you drive by every day. On one end of it is the North Mason Resource Center and on the other end of it is the Community Food Pantry. And in this Land is where I find my Gentle Strangers.
I first came here a few months back, after I was offered a place to call ‘Home’ at ChickenHawk’s Kabin on the Isle. I had been made Honorary Member of Olde Vulture’s Tribe there, and while I still had access to a vehicle, I took my New Brother’s to the aforementioned Food Bank. That place is a Nirvana for the Hungry, by it’s own right, as well, but the NMRC is so much more to me.
As it is at the official Food Bank another 2 or 3 miles down the road, you can get food here as well, but only once a week. So for me, “shopping day & Hygiene day” is like Christmas.
Please Help Feed My Homeless Duxx Fund:
A big ‘shout-out’ to Food-lady Bonnie,
❤ “Hey~Howdy!” ❤
My Contribution to the CrockPot Cooking Class for Those ‘Without’
all recipes here, are made from the things we can receive at our local “Gettin’ Place”,
and if You Are Fortunate Enough to Have a working crockpot you don’t hardly use at all anymore,
If You Would Be So Kind as to donate it to the Belfair/ North Mason Community Pantry,
it will provide the Way & the Means for a HomeLess or ‘Hard to Do’ person or family
to participate in the Crockpot Cooking Workshop
TBA for sometime soon, hopefully, as soon as some crockpots get DONATED.
* your Kind & Expeditious Donation will Gift someone to be able to make a meal in a crockpot AND to TAKE Both Home with them! *
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dukk
it’s okay that you probably don’t remember me- or if you do, but only vaguely. because I remember you. and all the things you’ve done for me. you’d most likely tell me “it’s nothing”, but to me- even the smallest act, gesture, consideration, assist or donation was for me the most incredible life- changing and sustaining gift of opportunity and improvement.
if I’m remembered at the Red Apple grocer at all, it’s only because I broke down and cried from fear, exhaustion, hunger, frustration, pain & inability to do the simplest things for myself. but I remember you, Cashier Brian, cuz you opened your heart and shared a quiet personal tidbit of information about you, to hold as what felt like a secret of empathy and heartfelt concern, while everyone else looked down at me in disgust. it meant the world to me that though you couldn’t stand as champion for my self respect and dignity that day, you made sure that I knew that I wasn’t invisible, alone, cast off or unworthy…. only because you – saw – me. not as a piece of unsightly refuse, but as a broken human being struggling to remain upright, the best I could on crutches.
and the girl at Del’s feed store probably didn’t find it as momentous as I did, the day she made all those advance arrangements of pricing out the cost, pre-selling it for the receipt, and being more ready than Paul Revere by actually WAITING outside for the bus as it rolled up, while her other customers waited. just so I could get that desperately needed bag of feed for my laying birds, because there was absolutely no way that I could persuade the MTA dispatch to make a quick ‘in & out’ stop at your door for the ‘crippled chick’ to do the 2 minute task herself. (the driver said, that if there was time, they would slow long enough for the girl to take my money and hand off the 3 pound bag of feed while I stood at the door of the slowly rolling bus- that way it would never be a ‘stop’!)
or all the hours of scheduling and rescheduling, spent, trying to get me out of and back into the woods where I slept, so I could make all those doctor, orthopedic surgeon and physical therapy appt.s, as well as food & supply gathering and the networking I needed to do cuz my truck was broke on top of the fact I wasn’t allowed to drive with my broken ankle for quite sometime to come, anyway! all the drivers and dispatchers that went above and beyond their call of duty, just to help me help myself. you were probably never told about all the comment cards I wrote and sent, and I’m really very sorry I couldn’t make all of you handmade cards of thanks, but I want you to know that I’ve always voted for the ‘free bus’ in our county the full 24 years I’ve lived in this community, though I’ve never needed it’s service for myself before. I want you to know that’s it’s all of you that I remember, not the few who make our tiny chain of towns in the trees ugly, cold, dark and uncertain, just by there very presence.
the lady that owned the small Allyn grocer up the hill, that left her store while it was during business hours to go down to the bus stop on the highway to check, find, pickup, hold onto and call me back about the video camera that my mom gave to me, to tell me it was safe & found!
the nice woman Brenda that owns the Allyn liquor store that so many times acted as my phone book, binoculars, sister, confidant, proof reading service, therapist, dating service and shoulder for crying when I was lost & broken 800 miles away! that, and you were the only person that I met in all the 24 years that I lived in this tiny community that felt that it was important enough to not only go to my very 1st, but also my 50th (half century!!) birthday party at the winery! despite the fact that I went to great lengths to invite twice as many as the 10 that were allowed, but also very carefully schedule well in advance with EVERYONES WORK and the winery’s hours, so that no one would be left out. and you were the only one that felt my half century mark was worth being celebrated (let alone returning my handmade self addressed stamped rsvp cards for this very special occasion)!
and not once during this entire nightmare and ordeal, did my grown son feel it was worth interrupting his party/ sleep schedule for, regardless the fact that I broke my ankle on the stairs I repeatedly offered to fix, in the old house he shared with his girlfriend, that’s owned by her mom next door. instead of realizing, that I could own the house outright and not be homeless any more if I wanted, not only is he clueless but downright rude. when I begged him for help for the first time in his life, to escape a place where I was trapped and shortly after physically assaulted, his belated reply to me was so shockingly snotty that I should choose for him to solve my problem –not by removing me from the place that was originally convenient for him to drop me off!- but to beat a senior citizen to death with a baseball bat and spend the rest of his life in jail, or disrespect me ultimately and for the last time, as he turns to forget the person that sacrificed everything, just so that he would never be without. in 28 years, I was speechless to realize that he not once took time to find out who I was beyond his giver, doer wallet. that he would even consider that that would even be a choice I’d make. what a fool- what an ass! what once was my pride and joy has become my deepest regret that I had unleashed upon my neighbors. what should’ve been my pride has become my shame. he, not by my upbringing, but by his own choice, has become one of THEM.
Please Help Feed My Homeless Duxx Fund!
* * Please click the link below, if you would like to help feed the Feathered Darlings! Amelia DukkPond & Rori Willems DukkPond, Audri DukkBurn, EvilRosalita FrankenDukkula and her consort, AbbiNorml Dukk, Gallifrey & Ryatt and Miss Lilli (the Mother of all Dukk-Lovers!) thank all of you Lovely Supporters from the bottom of their furry, feathered butts! QWAK!! * *
Please Help Feed My Homeless Duxx Fund!
* * Please click the link below, if you would like to help feed the Feathered Darlings! Amelia DukkPond & Rori Willems DukkPond, Audri DukkBurn, EvilRosalita FrankenDukkula and her consort, AbbiNorml Dukk, Gallifrey & Ryatt and Miss Lilli (the Mother of all Dukk-Lovers!) thank all of you Lovely Supporters from the bottom of their furry, feathered butts! QWAK!! * *
For the benefit of my novice woodland Friends….
by Todd Walker
Uncle Otha would tell us boys to gather some ‘fat lighter’d’ while out hunting squirrels. He was a retired Army cook and our personal camp chef. Squirrel stew at its finest!
You may know it by another name – fatwood, lighter wood, fat lighter, pine knot, lighter knot, or something else. Fat lighter’d, as Uncle Otha called it, is a 100% nature-made fire starter. The resin in conifers concentrates in the base of the tree. If a pine is cut down or dies by disease or storm, the pine resin will harden and preserve the wood.
While hunting yesterday, I ran across what you’d look for when searching for fat lighter’d.
This pine tree was snapped in half by a storm
The base of the tree’s trunk had been damaged. Pitch (resin) had moved to the area to seal the wound. Though it…
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When I was Young, I’d learned that being Gifted with or gaining Mastery over the Ability to give Name to your Fear, problems, challenges, obstacles & foes- would be one of the most valuable Tools for my Future.
This very Simple Act can be the Beginning of the End; Unravel Sinister Plots against you; Disarm whole armies bent on your destruction; Give you Absolute Power over Evil Sorcerers; Turn the tables on Rumpelstiltskin; Strip all Strength like cutting Goliath’s Hair; Render Mountains into Molehills; Enslave those who would be your Master; Bring Giants down to your size.
How could I have been so wrong?
I now Despair that it took so many long Years to Realize I am no better than a Blind Old Woman lost in the Endless Forest black & thick, and how easily I am Imprisoned, Tortured and made to Fear the Silence that deafens me in Darkness.
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Violet stands up, applauding loudly and vehemently, screaming, “WOO-HOO! Bravissimo!! Encore! Encore!”
“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation”
And I stand above,
Yet still a part of the whole of this piece,
This fragment of a universal space
Does it flow up or down
These thoughts that forever run,
As if trying to catch a Monarch on a lilac
As it flits from here to there
And knowing the score,
The fragility of the conquest we hold back from doing
That which could, would cause harm
And in becoming for a moment that entity,
We soar free to places,
Landing lightly in a second upon that which we seek.
A peaceful place,
Or crushing sound as water smashes and smooths
The mighty rocks far below
We stand above it so small
So weak in comparison
To natures strength,
Our only power is in destroying
Yet it is that strength that…
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‘KimZip’ writes this as if she’s actually tread down within The/ my FaeriWood… ❤
Into a glade of peace I slip
effortlessly gliding on mirror streams
I move in calm shadows unseen
below a spring whisper of silence.
Entering into a state of bliss
I feel the movement of a thousand words
spoke in a hush of a silent bird
moving through grass unheard.
You are here in this sacred space
capturing my attention you draw me in
etched in a world so busy
I sit and ponder infinity.
Who casts his stone on still waters
to mar the serenity of this perfect moment
and ripples new scenes from old
who gives me his soul to hold.
I wandered here lost but now found
a quiet space where thoughts unfold
like the layers of a rising sun
a new moment of life now begun.
Thoughts on this chaotic whirlwind called life, of friends and strangers pulled in directions by angst and sadness, where pain…
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