words recaptured ...

This story was originally posted on my "Letting the Words Escape" blog on 21 November 2017 as part of the Words for Wednesday writing challenge.  I thought I had lost all those posts when I foolishly deleted the blog but just found an external drive where I had backed them up to.  Yay for me not being a total dork!

My storyline then was partially based on actual historical facts. My great-great-etc-great-grandfather, George Soule, came over on the Mayflower as an indentured servant and kept the log on the Mayflower. Elinor Billington did spend time in the stocks for slandering John Doane. Doane was married to a woman named Ana, but the affair is fictional (as far as I know anyway). John Billington (the elder) was in fact hung for the murder of John Newcomen and claimed before his hanging that he was an innocent man even though there was bad blood between the two men. This week we meet Francis Billington, son of John and Elinor Billington. The year is 1644.

Francis walked slowly in the woods along the frozen river, looking for maple trees to which he could attach a bucket and collect the sweet sap that would be boiled down to make the syrup and sugar he sold to make a living. It had been a harsh winter, and he had become disillusioned with life in the New World and had lost interest lately in doing much more than just what was necessary to keep food on their table.

His mother had passed away the winter before, and he felt lonelier than ever, with no one he could confide in. It had been 17 years since his older brother, John [the younger], had died, and 14 since his father. Although he had been married to Christian for ten years, she had her hands full with their six children and was pregnant yet again. His shoulders momentarily shrugged as a sob escaped him, thinking of the three children they had lost early on in her pregnancies.

Life may have been hard if they had stayed in England, but it wouldn't have been as harsh. They might have stayed in a city with a respectable physician or midwife, but he knew it was naive of him to think that it could have been better. He might have been able to find work or become a tradesman, but he also might never have met Christian. As difficult as it was to provide for his family, the highlight of each evening was coming home to his children.

He stopped as he heard the sound of something dashing through the woods just ahead of him. In the fading light, he knew he had just one chance to possibly shoot a deer which would provide meat for them for the next month. Dropping to one knee in the snow, he quietly drew his muzzleloader free and filled it with gunpowder and buckshot.

~ * ~

Christian jumped as she heard the sound of a gunshot in the distance, shaking hot wax onto her hand from the candle she was using to light the others in their crowded cabin. The burning wax caused her to drop the candle, catching a rag doll on the floor that belonged to one of the younger children on fire. She screamed and grabbed a pail of water near the fireplace, throwing it onto the flames before they could grow any larger.

Sobbing she fell to the floor, feeling the baby within her give a kick to her ribs as her emotions got the best of her once more that day. She was grateful to feel the baby was still alive, but her exhaustion and emotions were beginning to wear on her.

The oldest three children came running from the one bedroom that all six of them shared.

"What is it, Mother? What happened?"

She pulled the children to her on the now muddy dirt floor of the cabin, frightening them to begin crying as well.

"Nothing, dears. Ma just had a scare, and I dropped a candle. It caught sissy's doll on fire. Help me to clean up and get some hot water started for supper. Perhaps Father was able to shoot something to put in the water for dinner tonight."

"I hope so," whined the youngest of the three, "I'm so 'ungry. If I have to eat another potato this week, I fear I shall become one!"

Laughing now, Christian pulled the children closer to her, giving a kiss to the top of each of their heads.

"Let us pray then that God will provide us with something other than potatoes for supper!"

thoughts from left field ...

My "whenever it feels like blooming" cactus has exploded in blossoms.

I'm not complaining.

The knee is healing very well.  Physical therapist is impressed with my progress.  I should transition to outpatient PT in the next two weeks.

Drove into Lexington with a friend this past Thursday and saw the Virginia Military Institute [<link] campus for the first time.  Wow is really all I can say.  It was impressive!  I definitely want to go back when I can walk more because there were a few little shops we passed that need more browsing time.  

Stopped for lunch at Foothill Momma's BBQ Juke Joint [<FB page link].  We both had the catfish platter, and it was delicious!  

Next door to the restaurant was a local farm market with more apple "blends" (what exactly do you call them?  breeds?  strains?  flavors?) than I knew existed.  I might have bought one of each that I'd never heard of before and only wish I'd taken pictures of the names and descriptions because now I have an easy dozen apples I'll never be able to identify or find again.  They didn't come with those little stickers that say "Gala," "Pink Lady," "Golden Delicious," or "Granny Smith" that I could put on the front of the refrigerator to remind me which one I liked best.

A random thought from left field last week while watching a vampire movie...

Why would you wear a white t-shirt to a vampire fight?

You know that vampire goo has got to stain like crazy, and if you are trying to make a broad daylight getaway, it is going to be a little bit hard to blend in with the normies if you are wearing a blood goo and gore-stained white shirt.

 

Clearly, I need to find something to do with my time because these out of the ballpark random thoughts are getting a little out of hand.

more memories...

   "That is an interesting technique you have for building a fire, Kael.  Where did you learn how to do that?"

  Kael looked up from what he was doing and glanced at Eldrin who had asked the question.  "I'm not really sure.  It's just something I think I have always done.  It's certainly not anything my father taught me.  I don't recall ever seeing my father build a fire, this way or any other way.  Why?  How do you build a fire?"

  "I was asking because your fires always start right away, and you don't seem to struggle to keep them lit like I do.  Anytime it's my turn to start the evening fire, I feel completely out of my element, and like a total failure of a man.  I'd really like to learn how you do it."

  Looking a bit surprised by El's honesty, Kael felt himself turning red and not from the heat of the fire.  No one had ever asked his help for anything until this adventure, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond.  "Uh, sure.  I can show you tomorrow night, if you'd like."

  "That'd be awesome!"

  Thal watched the interaction from the edge of where they had set up camp for the night and didn't see Lyri come up behind him with a heavenly blue apron full of acorns and mushrooms.  He jumped slightly when she touched his arm.

  "Oh, I didn't mean to startle you.  I was just listening to the two of them and it occurred to me that Kael really has changed quite a bit since he came back from the gnoll attack.  It almost makes me want to write a note in my diary so that I don't forget this moment."

  "You keep a diary?"

  Lyri laughed, "On this trip?  No.  When would I have time?  But if there did exist a spare moment of time to write in a diary, I think I'd rather spend it sleeping.  It would, however, make for some interesting reading when we got home if I had the time.  We all seem to have matured on this journey.  Even Eldrin seems to have become more responsible, and to have lost that wild child essence he once had.  Don't you think?"

  "Indeed.  It seems that the closer we get to Queen Legodia's kingdom, the more we all seem to be evolving into someone else."

  "Even me?  Is that a good thing or a bad thing?  Should I be worried?"

  "Your changes seem to be the most subtle so far because I don't think you had much to change.  And I think so far it is a good thing.  It's as if we are becoming the person we had been in a past life.  I feel like long ago we might have all been best friends, and it was that friendship that drew us together in this lifetime."

  Vondran's voice was suddenly loud in Thalion's mind, "That's it exactly!"

[This is an ongoing chapter a week story that began with the first Words for Wednesday for 2025 on 1 January. I'm hoping to continue it through 31 December, the last Wednesday of the year. To start from the beginning, click on the Words for Wednesday 2025 label to the right and it will pull up all of the weekly posts, beginning with the most recent. To start from the beginning, continue to click "Older Posts" at the bottom of the page until you get to 1 January 2025, then click "Newer Posts" to read the next date. You can thank Blogger for the inability to list them by chronological order under the labels.]

This week's Words for Wednesday prompts can be found here.

four dog nights ...

   "You're very perceptive, young Master Thalion.  He is indeed someone from my life, my past, although I don't know if I could identify him as one of the cowardly dogs that beat me that night.  To be honest, I'm not sure I would have been able to identify them even then.  I'm not sure who he was exactly, I only know that there is a sense of familiarity about him that causes my hackles to rise when he is about."

  "Kael has, or rather had, that effect on most people who meet him.  He's changed a great deal from the boy I grew up with who used to bully his way around the playground."

  "So, you believe he has changed?"

  "I believe I'm giving him the benefit of doubt for now, Vondran.  I think something happened to him while he was gone that frightened him a great deal, and if it caused him to change some things in his personality, then I'm willing to give him a second chance.  I think he realized that he had made himself a very uncomfortable bed of lies and enemies, and that whatever happened to him gave him the knowledge needed to move past his younger years and grow up some.  We've all made stupid choices in our lives, and we've all been grateful for another chance to get the help we needed to change."

  "You never cease to surprise me, Thalion.  Your maturity and knowledge, even without my assistance and craftsmanship in preparing you to become a future king, are not lost on me.  Now, before we rejoin the others, we should gather some wood for the fire.  The cold is settling into your bones, and it is going to be what we called a three-dog night once upon a time."

  "I should think that in our case it would be a four-dog night.  One to keep each of us warm."

  "Indeed."

[This is an ongoing chapter a week story that began with the first Words for Wednesday for 2025 on 1 January. I'm hoping to continue it through 31 December, the last Wednesday of the year. To start from the beginning, click on the Words for Wednesday 2025 label to the right and it will pull up all of the weekly posts, beginning with the most recent. To start from the beginning, continue to click "Older Posts" at the bottom of the page until you get to 1 January 2025, then click "Newer Posts" to read the next date. You can thank Blogger for the inability to list them by chronological order under the labels.]

This week's Words for Wednesday prompts can be found here.

surgery

This was my knee pre-surgery.

You can see my much faded birthmark, that I'm hoping survives.  Odd to be sentimental about a birthmark that many would have wished were removed.  I certainly got my share of sloppy eater gravy stain teasing.  But apparently my maternal grandfather (whom also had red hair when he was young) had one in the same place (which later caused me some confusion when we covered genetics in biology class).

This is post-surgery.  No stitches or staples, just an adhesive tape.  The surgery was done WITHOUT  traditional anesthesia.   Nerve blocks were done in my leg just above the knee, and one epidural injection in my spine to numb me from the waist down.  I (fortunately) don't remember much of the surgery,  except at one point I did loudly ask, "Is that a hammer?!?!?"  Yes.  Yes, it was a hammer, and a chisel.

Since I was staying in hospital on the 30th and going home on Halloween, I dressed appropriately. 

These are Calliope 's toe beans.  This was the first time I'd been away from the Littles for more than 24 hours, and they were both stuck to me like velcro when I came home.  Since then, I've had at least one cat on me at all times.

The blanket has Pedro Pascal's face all over it.  It is quite soft,  warm, and oddly comforting in a way that has nothing to do with me being a retired cougar. 

Home health physical therapy starts this week, although I've already been doing most things by myself.  I'm grateful for my neighbor, family and friends who checked on me.

remembering ...

  "Vondran?"

  "Yes, Thalion?"

  "You've been very quiet lately.  Is everything alright?"

  "Yes.  I've just been a bit overwhelmed lately with memories of my death.  I hadn't expected them to be so ... vivid."

  "I assumed you had died of old age.  Was that not the case?"

  "No, it was not.  After my mother passed away, I was lost for a while because I had never been alone.  I didn't know how to exist without her, and I made some very poor choices.  She had raised me to one day assume a throne, but when she died, so did my belief that I was an heir to anything.  I became dead inside.  Not knowing what to believe or how to exist without her guidance.

  "I began to drink, trying to drown my sorrow, and was unable to remember all that she had taught me.  To protect me, she had taught me the language of wherever we were, so that I could blend in like a native and not draw attention.  But alcohol had a way of making me forget what she had taught me.  One night, after a particularly dark episode of memories, I had offended some travelers at the inn.  A simple coined phrase that did not translate as I intended, and the next thing I knew I had been dragged into the woods and was being beaten with a cudgel."

  "Is that when you died?"

  "Not directly.  In that moment, I saw myself as she would have seen me, and I realized how ashamed she would have been that I had lost hope.  That was what killed me.  I gave up hope."

  "Vondran, I know you have some misgivings about Kael being on this journey with us.  Is it because in a previous life he was one of the men who beat you?  Is that why you don't trust him?"

[This is an ongoing chapter a week story that began with the first Words for Wednesday for 2025 on 1 January. I'm hoping to continue it through 31 December, the last Wednesday of the year. To start from the beginning, click on the Words for Wednesday 2025 label to the right and it will pull up all of the weekly posts, beginning with the most recent. To start from the beginning, continue to click "Older Posts" at the bottom of the page until you get to 1 January 2025, then click "Newer Posts" to read the next date. You can thank Blogger for the inability to list them by chronological order under the labels.]

This week's Words for Wednesday prompts can be found here.