WfW ~ howling at the moon ...

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The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.  The aim of the words is to encourage us to write.   A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.  If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.  This month the words/prompts are supplied by River at Drifting Through Life and can be found right [here.]

Today, I'm starting a series of short spooky tales for Halloween...

    It was a sound like nothing she'd ever heard before.  A screech that trailed off to a low growl, so low she almost felt it vibrating in her bones more than with her ears.  She stood, frozen on the path through the woods, unsure if she should go forward or back the way she came.  The screech had started behind her, but the growl came from ahead.

    She looked to the woods on either side of her.  Dusk was falling quickly and if she didn't make a decision soon, it would be made for her.  Ahead were the distant lights glowing already from the village.  Behind her, a mist was beginning to rise from the ground making the path back hard to see, and on each side, the trees were crowding out what little light was left from the setting sun.

    Forward it would have to be, and she took a few steps towards the village.  Something wet and warm landed on her right arm.  Her first thought was that it was a large dollop of bird poop, and she involuntarily gagged at the thought.  But when she looked, it wasn't the white color she was expecting to see.  Instead, it looked almost black in the fading light.

    "What the ..."  Her words faltered.  "This is just crazy."  She walked faster, almost a run now, desperate to reach the lights of the village.  She could just barely see a flashing roadside marquee announcing an upcoming fall bazaar.

    Something started running through the underbrush behind to her right and she moved to the left side of the path, running faster.  She heard, no, felt the growl again coming from the left and moved to the center of the path.  Running so fast now that she thought her heart would burst, she finally broke free of the woods and stumbled into a pub with a pink faded sign that said "The Antique Rose" where she could hear music playing.

    The music stopped abruptly as she fell to the floor of the pub.  Without looking up, she began to laugh hysterically.

    Breathlessly she finally blurted out, "Oh, I'm so sorry for crashing your party but the most bizarre thing just happened to me."  Standing now, hair in her eyes, she tightened her belt, and with the back of her left arm, she awkwardly pushed the hair out of her eyes.

    Before she could inhale enough to let out a scream, the room full of werewolves set upon her and ripped her throat out.

🐺🐺🐺

    "Joe-Joe, lemme see that boomerang yer pops brung ya from 'Stralia"

    "No, Pete.  Pops said it weren't no toy and I can't bring it outsides to play with."

    "I ain't wantn' ta play with it.  I jus' wanna holds it fer a minute.  I'll give ya a gallon of cherry Twizzlers if'n ya get it f'me to hold."

    "Where ya gonna gets a gallon of Twizzlers?  Ya ain't got no money."

    "No, but ma just shopped fer her office and gots a cupla gallons in the back seat of her car to take in t'marra.  I can lift one fer ya."

    "You'd do that?  Well.  Sure then I guess.  Just fer a minute."

    Both boys took off running in opposite directions, coming back a few moments later with their treasures under their arms.

    "I can't stay out long, Pete.  My ma said there was sumthin in the newspaper this morning about missin' kids and she wants me home before the street lights come on."

    "Yeah, yeah, yeah.  My ma wrote sumthin on the calendar last night about some guy named Babycakes strikes again."

    "Baby cakes?  Who the heck is that?  A baseball player?"

    "I don't think so.  She was crying when she wrote it.  It's on the calendar five times already this month."  Pete pretended to fling the boomerang, and Joe-Joe tried to grab it from him. 

    "Give it back, Pete.  I told you I can't play with it and my ma wants me home.  Look.  The first streetlight just came on.  Give it here!  I've got to go or she's gonna whoop my hide."

    "Fine.  Fetch!"  With that, he flung it as hard as he could into the darkness.

    "Thanks, Pete.  My dad is going to kill me now."

    "No, he ain't.  Just wait.  It'll come back.  That's what boomerangs do.  Listen, hear that noise?  I bet that's it right now."

    The boomerang dropped to the ground in front of both boys, causing them to scream and run in the direction of their homes, leaving the gallon of Twizzlers behind.  Blood oozed from the neck of Pete's dad, still stuck to the top of the blade.  His eyes had a surprised look, and he was wearing clown face paint with a small cupcake hat elastic strapped to the top of his head.

    Guess there won't be any dessert tonight after dinner at Pete's house.

WfW ~ bad ideas vs good ideas

 The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.  The aim of the words is to encourage us to write.   A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.  If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.  This month the words/prompts are supplied by River at Drifting Through Life and can be found right [here.]

  I had a brief conversation with my cousin on Instagram last night which was followed by a conversation with the Good Me on my right shoulder and the Bad Me on my left shoulder.

  The convo with my cousin was regarding dating.  I'd kinda-sorta-almost-in-a-way like to date again.  But it is so hard to get back into that "game" after being burnt so badly in the past.  There are times when I still feel the raw blisters on my heart.  Then there is the whole "where do I start" part of it because I don't get out much at all.  I work from home.  I don't attend a regular church anymore, and never liked using a church as a way to meet eligible men anyway.   

  My cousin suggested using a dating app, which is then where the Good/Bad Mes had their conversation:

  Good Me:  "That's not a good idea."

  Bad Me:  "I know, but it's the best bad idea I've got."

  I decided to just jump into the fire with an app called "Coffee Meets Bagels" after realizing that the cost of an eHarmoney account was just totally insane.  Downloaded the app, paid for a month, and then promptly shared dating nightmare videos with my cousin.  

  Had nightmares when I fell asleep.  Woke up this morning and promptly canceled my subscription.  But now I have a month paid for, and likely won't get any matches because they don't actually have any members in my area.

  Wish I'd been able to know that before I signed up and wasted $15.89.

  So instead of hoping for someone to send me antique pink roses, I'm going to just grow my own yellow ones whenever I find my forever home.   I'll take time to actually smell them too.  Maybe even one day I will again visit a famous (or random) fountain in Germany and toss in some coins for luck.

  In the meantime, I'm craving some peanut butter pumpkins and trying to keep from shouting at the walls because of another water leak in this slum of a house I was foolish enough to move into.  The illegally installed-non-permitted downstairs bathroom is leaking, and we are stuck with nowhere else to move to because of the lack of available and affordable housing here.  Even if I were to abandon my four roommates and try to find a place alone, I have no options.

  Moving to another state is beginning to sound more and more like a good idea.

Best Day Ever ...

   Day 2 of my mental health staycation was really much better than Day 1.

  Although to be fair, chatting with one of the Raiders football team's staff was kind of a highlight of yesterday.  I told him that "back in the day" when the Raiders were still in Los Angeles, I watched them beat the Denver Broncos at the LA Coliseum and greatly appreciated how much it upset my now ex-husband.  Even if it did "age" me considerably.

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  I found yet another motorcycle ride-worthy road.  I might eventually have to get serious about finding a male friend with a motorcycle.

  Highway 219 North from Lewisburg up towards Yew Mountain has got to be the most beautiful and relaxing highway of winding roads, mountains, farms, and just beauty everywhere.  If you go, be sure to take the drive on a Friday or Saturday when the [link>] Good Roads Bakehouse in Frankford might be open.

  I had heard nothing but good things about them, and when I passed them going up, I immediately turned around and went back for one of their pretzel dogs and two loaves of sourdough bread.  I'm told their cinnamon rolls and brownies are amazing, so I suppose I will just be forced (if I must, I must) to make the drive again.

  Renick is a beautiful farm community just north of Frankford.  I think in the next year or two I may be in a better position to buy a forever home, and Renick has topped my list of places where I want to spend the rest of my days (my upcoming one out of this current situation will be the 40th move of life, and unfortunately, not the last one).

  Especially if I can get a view like this one.

  My trip north today was to see my friends, Erica & Will, and to meet their new baby girl, Hazel Mae.  This is the view out their kitchen window.  I don't know if I would ever get any dishes washed.  I'd just be too mesmerized with the view every day.

 

  The road to their house was surrounded by beautiful woods, and this lovely lady casually crossed the road in front of me when I slowed to a stop for her.  No fear, tail relaxed and down, like she didn't have a care in the world.  She stopped just at the edge of the road and when I asked if I could take her picture, she waited for me.  It was just incredibly peaceful there.  (My reputation from the Michigan Upper Peninsula and northern Wisconsin for stopping to yell at the deer near the road and warn them to watch out for cars apparently hasn't traveled this far south yet.)

 

  Erica claims I must be some kind of baby-whisperer but I don't know about all that.  Hazel was the first time I've actually met and held a one-month-old baby.  (I did, however, whisper to her to go to the dark side when she was fighting her nap.  I doubt that was the kind of whispering Erica was hoping for.)

  I think it was because we share the same middle name, which was unplanned when Will & Erica picked her name.

  She knows I'm a kindred soul who will fill her head with magical stories of wood fairy girls riding on the backs of goldfinches and wrens as they watch their brothers race on the backs of chipmunks and voles to see who can get to the raspberry brambles first. The loser has to ride a toad home, so best to use the fastest shortcut through the garden, and not to get caught by the rooster!

  It was a day that was much better than expected, and just what yesterday's doctor ordered.

a little Cheddar ...

 I'm taking a few days off from work for my mental health.  I'd love to say that it is because of work, but unfortunately, it is landlord-related.  Today I think he might have realized he and his wife bit off more than they expected.  His ignorance and negligence caused a raw sewage leak, which dripped onto my sofa (before we knew what it really was).  It created black mold between the upstairs bathroom floor and the downstairs living room ceiling.  Again, his ignorance thought that the cure would be to put a fan on it to dry it out (spreading the spores throughout the downstairs).  When I tried to explain about the dangers of black mold on someone's health and the correct way to deal with it, I was told I had to leave in 30 days.  The roomies can stay, just not me.

Uh, not gonna happen.

Phone calls were made to the Attorney General's office and the City Building Inspector's office.  I have the law on my side.  We will move, but only when I know we have a safe place for all five of us.

I received these pictures today of Cheddar.  You might remember him from my first blog post about him [here] or maybe even [here] the day I rescued him and got him to his new home.

His new mom, Holly, says that he is the "calmest, laid-back cat" who just "rolls with the flow."

I imagine superheroes do have to keep a low profile.

These are some older ones of him that I thought I had shared, but apparently not.  When I look at these I think of the Lion King movie and Mufasa.

WfW ~ the unexpected guest

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by River at Drifting Through Life and can be found right here.

  I barely noticed her at first.  Driving down the road, I don't usually let my eyes wander too far, but something about her must have caught my subconscious eye because I found myself pulling into the next parking lot I found and turning around to go back.

  The threadbare antique pink scarf wrapped around her neck couldn't possibly have been keeping her warm in the cold winds this early in the fall season.  Pulling up behind her, I disconnected my cell phone from the charger as I got out of the car in case I needed to call 911.

  "Oh my gosh.  You poor thing!  You must be freezing!  Let me get you into the car and warmed up!"

  She tottered behind me back to the car, wisps of grey blowing about her face as the scarf picked that moment to come loose and blow away.  I almost chased after it but realized it would be a futile race against the wind.

  "I'm so sorry about your scarf.  It was such a beautiful color too.  This wind today is just brutal, isn't it?  I think that we must be the only ones out on the road today.  Everybody else must be smarter than we are, staying inside and out of this unusually cold day."

  I waited for some kind of response, but there was none, and her mysteriously dark eyes just watched me closely as I buckled her seatbelt around her, then snapped my own in.

  "This cold is just excruciating, isn't it?  I should have listened to the Weather Channel this morning to see if there was some kind of public service announcement about a storm blowing in.  It really isn't safe at all for you to be walking alone on the side of the road like that.  Someone could have drifted with the wind and hit you!  I'll be the first to admit that there is much to be gained by a brisk walk, but the way the winds are blowing today, they are likely to lift a roof or two!  You are so lucky that I saw you when I did!"

  Shivering now as the heat began to fill the car while I drove back home, she finally spoke.

 
"Woof."

WfW ~ better late than never ...

I am writing with Words for Wednesday, the schedule for the rest of the year can be found [there>] on Elephant's Child, Sue's blog.   I'm actually playing catch-up for two weeks today because I did not feel a new story brewing in my fingers last week.  And I'm still not certain what is going to appear on the screen today.

The goal of WfW is to take given prompts, words, phrases, photos, colors, or music and create a story from them. This week's words and color of the month are in bold italics.

If you visit the hosts' blogs you can also read and cheer on the other writers participating in this weekly fun.

  Writing has always felt like a privilege.  Even more so than reading at times, although when I have found a writer who draws out the best in my imagination I feel like all of my senses are being catered to.

  To "read" a landscape so vividly described that you can feel the warmth of the morning sun on your face.  To see the luminous bright red of fall leaves before they drop.  To smell the fresh coffee in your mug, and to hear the song of the sparrow in the tree.  That is the kind of novel that inspired me to begin writing.

  While I don't feel that I am at the same level of skill as many other writers I admire (I do still at times find typos and grammar errors in my own three books), I don't feel that I'm a failure by any means.  We make mistakes, we learn, we grow, we move on, we make mistakes again.  Get up.  Learn.  Grow.  Move on.

  Rumor has it that it is a simple fact of life that we all fall down at some point.  It's what you do when you fall that determines whether you will be a success or failure.  Might I also mention that true failure is when we stop trying?  It doesn't matter how many times you fail, or make mistakes.  What matters is whether or not you let them beat you.  Refusing to stay down is a win.  

  With every ascent, there is a descent, but the successes come when we continue to climb.  Pushing the bicycle to the top of the hill is the hard part.  But the exhilaration of the feet-off-the-pedals-wind-in-the-hair-screaming-at-the-top-of-your-lungs-speed-demon ride downhill doesn't come on a flat level surface.  It doesn't come without the hard work of the climb.  It doesn't come if we stop trying to get to the top of the hill.

  Mistakes and failures are just the beginning outlines of learning what needs to be done to succeed.

*~*~*

  It was such a random thought that I let it go almost instantly as I haphazardly threw things into one of the tubs I was using to pack up my craft supplies.  But then it floated back around in my head again and wouldn't leave.

  What if my fixation on the man I thought first proposed to me some forty-plus years ago was just a figment of my imagination?  I mean, my memories of what he said, and what I said, and what I wished I'd said that night have remained consistent.  My memories of him and how he made me feel, were just as consistent.  But what if all of it has been just a vendetta my mind has playing with regrets because of later bad choices I'd made?

  Forty years was a long time to pine for someone I'd known for only a year.  Is it possible that some of my subsequent choices were made because I was worried about having more of the same regrets?  Was I holding on to something that didn't exist?  Or was it holding me back from something that could? 

 All of my bold talk about learning from mistakes ... what had I learned from that one?  Maybe I treated his proposal as a joke when I should have said yes.  Maybe I should have said no when others asked me later.  That may be the ones that I proposed to, I should have just walked away from.

  Had my fear of missing out on love again caused me to make some massive emotional and financial mistakes because I jumped in without checking to see if there were rocks in the water?  

  Most certainly.  But what am I to learn from this revelation now?  Maybe just that I hadn't missed out on anything after all.  If it had been a sincere proposal, why would he have just disappeared into the night when I saw him two nights later?  Why wouldn't he have stuck around to convince me he wasn't kidding?  

  Maybe I should stop having regrets for something that could have been a blessing in disguise.

~*~*~

  Christmas music playing in September isn't something I normally hear, but it has become something of the norm lately.  Apparently, this is the beginning of the "ber" months (which at first I thought they were saying "brrrr" and was surprised because we've been in the middle of a horrible heatwave) in the Philippines.  They begin preparing for the holidays with the first "ber" month, listening to music and shopping.

  I can totally get into the shopping, but want to at least get Halloween out of the way first.

  My nephew and his family came by Labor Day weekend.  Just can't beat bear hugs.  Especially Dan's.

  We had hail, rain, and some wicked lightning this afternoon.  Power was out for several hours, finally coming back on after 9p.  Between heat waves and hurricanes, this has been a summer to remember.  Another hurricane in the Atlantic has the Coast Guard on high alert I'm sure all up and down the east coast.  I'm in the middle of the Appalachian mountains, so not likely to get the coastal surge of waves, but more than likely more wind and rain like today.  Especially if it goes back up to a Category 5.

  The garden has started to give up in the heat of late summer, and I'm trying to figure out how to move the herbs inside for the winter.  Especially the basil.

  This morning on the drive to Lewisburg I saw a black bear.  It almost tried to cross the road right in front of me, but thankfully changed its mind and ran back into the woods.  I wouldn't have been able to stop safely to keep from hitting it because of a car right on my tail, and hitting it would have broken my heart.

  There is a house on the way that has been getting renovated, and today I saw that they've finally painted the exterior.  I will have to stop and take a picture soon.  It is a pale blue, with yellow trim, and a tower the color of antique pink carnations.  A surprising color combination that I wouldn't expect to like on a house, but it fits this one perfectly.

  I'm still in the process of unpacking, but it has become more of a priority to purge the junk and prepare for another move in maybe a year.  Sometimes what we thought would be a dream house to live in is really only a step up the ladder from a nightmare.  

  Thunder is rolling loudly in again.  Time to hit publish.