I've been up the last several nights; worrying. There are a lot of things on my mind for work and more with Cheech being away for most of this month. There are the kids, the functions; got a roll of toilet paper? Because the list goes on and on. (For us all right?)
So what the firetruck was I thinking when I put my name in to the hat for chaperon of my son's trip? I don't know. I didn't have TIME to ride around in a bus full of screamin sweaty kids. I have charts to build, monitor and meds to inventory. I have shifts to cover and reports to finish. I have deadlines people. Welcome to my fifth level of Hell. Of course I know what I was thinking: she'll never pick me.
BZZZZ WROOOOONG TESS! WRONG! WRONG! wrong.
~knock knock
~who's there
~WRONG
So today was the day. I was awake at 2 trying to figure out how I could get back to work to finish what I'm already behind on. I was trying to figure out how I would get to scouts after dinner and still get my second draft done ... I wasn't coming up with any grand solutions and grumbled through a shower, getting dressed for a change in jeans and a tee with sneaks; not my usual style. At 6:15 my sleepy son came in with his happy face pajama bottoms, morning breath and a smile that lit up my heart. He hugged me so hard I almost lost my breath (he's such a strong lil shit)
"MOM! It's finally here! We have our field trip today! I can't WAIT"
He ran back down the hall; dressed with lightening speed and zoomed down the steps. In nine seconds, he had managed to fix eat and clean up breakfast and was busily making our special lunch. Special lunch. I was supposed to be WORKING through lunch. I sighed heavily.
"Don't look Mommy! This is gonna be the BEST lunch you ever ATE" he was almost panting and the whole time he had that famous smile on his handsome face.
My head hurt. My stomach was in knots. I skipped breakfast and dragged myself to the bus stop.
"Get up late?" the other moms asked since I was "slummin"
"No. Field trip."
"YOU????"
I winced and realized that one word hurt. My son grabbed my hand. "YEAH and she gets to ride on the BUS" he squeezed and laughed at nothing.
I looked down at his happy face." What am I doing"? I angrily thought. I put him on the bus and walked home. I had a few minutes. I spoke with my partner and cleared up a few things then grabbed my keys. I drove to school, popped some Tylenol and walked in to my son's class.
He had saved a seat for me. His teeth looked dry from smiling. His teacher met me in the hall.
"Hi."
"Hello..." I said cautiously
"I brought him down early. He was too excited. We're glad you could come."
"Thanks." but the thought ran once more like ticker tape through my brain
What am I doing?
I turned around to hear my son say "Nah. I wanna sit with my mom on the bus."
So he lead me to the big chubby submarine and showed me how to use the seat belt. (SEATBELT??? Gosh, when I was young we were simply free fallin...time ARE a-changin...) We drove forever; long enough to hear too many choruses of "99 bottles of pop on the wall"
When we arrived, my son carried our magical mystical lunch and held my hand. He showed me all the things there were to see and we laughed at the silliest stuff. We smudged up glass pointing, ooo-ing and ahhh-ing and had a blast. He was absolutely right. It was the BEST lunch I'd EVER had. We carried on and talked about everything; even took a little time to giggle and point. I loved every single solitary minute of it and was sad when we finally got back to school.
"Okay parents. We're here. Thanks for coming. We'll send em home to you shortly." and I watched my son get in line to go back to class. He cut out and ran over to me.
"I love you Mom. Thanks for the BEST day. This was GREAT"
I hugged him so tight I thought maybe he'd pass out.
"Me too Boo. " I whispered through a tear.
I waved and headed for my car.
No headache
No bellyache
No thoughts of work or worry
THAT'S what I'm doing.
Nothing special. Just a quick note. Today was one of those days where I took the time to appreciate what's truly important in my life. If I run out of tomorrows; the work, the weather, the world goes on. But here, today, we made a memory that will last. I hope you do the same.
Thanks for stopping here to listen to me ramble. It makes me feel good to see you; as always.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Just a quick word
I'm mashed up in deadlines and competitions. I'm also helping my daughter with one. I'm sorry guys but it will be the end of the week before we can hang out again. I got my arse handed to me and I'm so busy I think I need to WEAR my GPS to realize if I'm coming or going. I've got two ready to go, but I'm not so sure I can get back here to do so.
I have several entries in mind for these competitions but would like to hear from you if there is one in particular that sticks in your head. Please e mail me and let's talk about it. I love the feedback. Don't worry about the genre since I have more than one competition this month.
www.gigglinginthedark@gmail.com
I'm mashed up in deadlines and competitions. I'm also helping my daughter with one. I'm sorry guys but it will be the end of the week before we can hang out again. I got my arse handed to me and I'm so busy I think I need to WEAR my GPS to realize if I'm coming or going. I've got two ready to go, but I'm not so sure I can get back here to do so.
I have several entries in mind for these competitions but would like to hear from you if there is one in particular that sticks in your head. Please e mail me and let's talk about it. I love the feedback. Don't worry about the genre since I have more than one competition this month.
www.gigglinginthedark@gmail.com
Monday, April 25, 2011
This was sent to me by one of my "good" friends. It came simply addressed (to all on his list) "One for you Tess" It is kind of what I envision myself looking like while running my race. Heaven forbid there was a hole somewhere or a tree I couldn't see...Yep. I want to be indignant or huff over the blonde reference but if you know me? Yeah, it could happen.
You crack me up Tex.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Fear from a car window
Did you guys LOVE the weather we had earlier this week or WHAT? I'm telling you (for those who are selfishly sending rain, wind and did you throw the snow in there just to be a smart ass? NIIIIICE) that it was a perfect day. It was sunny and warm and it was simply happy outside.
Of course that equals riding topless. I love my convertible although we aren't far from getting another. I have my eye on something rather spectacular. But we'll talk about that later. Today? I jingled my keys and smiled as I headed out the office door.
"I'm gooooin toooopless....I'm gooooin toooopless" I sang to myself and headed for the car. I snapped the handle, tossed my bags in carelessly, slipped into my "topless" shades and began to get in. Nothing could stop this exhilerating rush. I was quickly zooming into the "zone". Too dom cool for my own good.
I saw it too late. It was waiting. Lurking. Crouching to ruin all my joy. It's sole purpose was to fill my personal space with fear. It was a frickin hornet. It was perched along the stripping of my window. Now the thing about that is, being a convertible, the window lowers a tiny bit when opening and then closes when the door is shut. Go back and read that again. Just humor me. The sight of this wretched beast caused a scream to form in my throat which dashed for my mouth. I locked it in with my teeth while simultaneously closing my eyes in an attempt to will it away. Failure. I painstakingly crept into my car squinching and contorting myself so as not to disturb the venomous dragon. By the time I actually got in to my seat, my upper lip, scalp and palms were soaked. My back and butt were prickling as if I had been attacked by a heard of acupuncturists. With all my courage I rushed to count to three and yanked on the door so hard that when it latched it continued to sway. I prayed the window would go up in time. It did. Kind of. It snagged the hornet's leg and now his little foot or claw thing was bent. He was mad. He was mad at me.
So he began to attack the window. He first zoomed to the front and bashed the windshield. Then he flew around the side and tried to barge in there. I was afraid he would call his buds and they would find the vents. I started the car with shaky hands and put it in drive. I began to pull our and that little firetruck stayed with me. He flew NEXT to me until I got to the light (only about twenty five yards but still...) I swatted the glass and wrapped my knuckles. I slammed the vents closed and held my breath. I felt like those tarts in the slasher movies:
"Don't bother holding your breath Dearie. He's right there!!! He can SEE you!!! You're not HIDING from anyone!"
I was whisper screaming for him to leave; shoo, feck off. But finally, I lost him. So I pulled up to another light and did what I needed to do; drop the top. Ha! Youuuuu didn't geeeet meee ...I resumed my coolness as I tooled down the road. but I checked my rear view. Oh yes. Because you just never know.
Silliness, I know but thank you for coming over. I'm glad we got to spend a few minutes together. I hope you smiled. Giggling and pointing is so very important especially when it is rightfully directed at me.
Have a good day my friend.
Of course that equals riding topless. I love my convertible although we aren't far from getting another. I have my eye on something rather spectacular. But we'll talk about that later. Today? I jingled my keys and smiled as I headed out the office door.
"I'm gooooin toooopless....I'm gooooin toooopless" I sang to myself and headed for the car. I snapped the handle, tossed my bags in carelessly, slipped into my "topless" shades and began to get in. Nothing could stop this exhilerating rush. I was quickly zooming into the "zone". Too dom cool for my own good.
I saw it too late. It was waiting. Lurking. Crouching to ruin all my joy. It's sole purpose was to fill my personal space with fear. It was a frickin hornet. It was perched along the stripping of my window. Now the thing about that is, being a convertible, the window lowers a tiny bit when opening and then closes when the door is shut. Go back and read that again. Just humor me. The sight of this wretched beast caused a scream to form in my throat which dashed for my mouth. I locked it in with my teeth while simultaneously closing my eyes in an attempt to will it away. Failure. I painstakingly crept into my car squinching and contorting myself so as not to disturb the venomous dragon. By the time I actually got in to my seat, my upper lip, scalp and palms were soaked. My back and butt were prickling as if I had been attacked by a heard of acupuncturists. With all my courage I rushed to count to three and yanked on the door so hard that when it latched it continued to sway. I prayed the window would go up in time. It did. Kind of. It snagged the hornet's leg and now his little foot or claw thing was bent. He was mad. He was mad at me.
So he began to attack the window. He first zoomed to the front and bashed the windshield. Then he flew around the side and tried to barge in there. I was afraid he would call his buds and they would find the vents. I started the car with shaky hands and put it in drive. I began to pull our and that little firetruck stayed with me. He flew NEXT to me until I got to the light (only about twenty five yards but still...) I swatted the glass and wrapped my knuckles. I slammed the vents closed and held my breath. I felt like those tarts in the slasher movies:
"Don't bother holding your breath Dearie. He's right there!!! He can SEE you!!! You're not HIDING from anyone!"
I was whisper screaming for him to leave; shoo, feck off. But finally, I lost him. So I pulled up to another light and did what I needed to do; drop the top. Ha! Youuuuu didn't geeeet meee ...I resumed my coolness as I tooled down the road. but I checked my rear view. Oh yes. Because you just never know.
Silliness, I know but thank you for coming over. I'm glad we got to spend a few minutes together. I hope you smiled. Giggling and pointing is so very important especially when it is rightfully directed at me.
Have a good day my friend.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Let them eat...Fiesta cake
As you have already guessed, my life has been terribly busy. It's not even fun stuff. Well, I take that back since I DID manage to sneak up to Promises although I hauled many extra kids.
For this fun filled weekend getaway, I was asked to make my breakfast special: my grandmother's crumb cake. This is not just ANY crumb cake. This is the softest, sweetest, buttery, crumbly pan of goodness that can leave you only with peaceful closed eyes and the words: "Sweet Lord." It is that good. It gives me chills to eat it; Hell to THINK of eating it. So of course I sacrificed and said with a mock heavy sigh: "I suppooooose" Secretly,I couldn't WAIT for breakfast. In fact, I began right away. (Because as those of you who know me 1) I feed people every 20 minutes and 2) I am really good at hiding what I'm thinking...) My desire was to torture them with the smell of freshly baked cake: butter, sugar ohhhh yes. And to make it worse, I add extra cinnamon on top. It's simply beautiful. I think I might need a cigarette here ...whew...It's almost as sexy as peanut butter wontons. But I'll put the "Adult Content" sign up for that one. heehee....
I got my masterpiece put together with a little more trouble than anticipated. The butter must be soft but using my Fukishima strength microwave, it melted. This in turn eliminated my "crumblies." You can't "crumble" what appears to be sweet mud. Hmph! No problem. I'll make a feckin STREUSEL cake! I'm a good enough cook to pull that off and since we're starting with Dear Nanny's recipe; how can I fail? Ahhh Dommit. Don't tempt fate.
I sifted the flour and smiled to myself. This was STILL going to blind them with breakfast desire. I streuseled and let it sit for a moment while I panicked about not having cinnamon. Crap! I would have to drive up to the store to get it. Okay, one more no problem and off I went. Returning with one of my favorite spices; fabulous cinnamon. I put it in my spice rack and had to step away once more because I was called urgently to the front porch.
My children had been playing archaeologist. They found bones; several heads and some vertebrae so we were having a little lesson. No not about what they were but why we don't bring them home and leave them on Mommy's porch. I couldn't help feeling like a voodoo priestess. Do you want me to read the tea leaves or would you prefer I get my doll out here and ...ooops didja feel THAT one? heehee. Kidding. Wrong doll. Today I'm kidding. So I informed my little Frankensteins to bag up what they discovered and we would begin the cleaning process to remove all the... uhhh... "bits". How about we just leave that portion right there ...on my porch. (sigh)
But back to the kitchen I went to realize I had used self rising flour and it had been busy doing JUST that all over my counter. It had swallowed my cake pan and crawled half way to the sink. For a drink of water? Perhaps. A mound so hefty SHOULD be thirsty after such a far stretch. I sighed and scooped. Now I had TWO cakes; sorta. I straightened around the "pretty one" and fixed it all nice and neat. Well now. I have my streusel cake bread thing and all I need is the Piece De Resistance...my cinnamon.
Do you know that in my kitchen there are only two spice bottles that look the same? Well at Promises, this is true. My GROUND CINNAMON bottle is nice and large with a pretty red label on it and nice BIG letters.. BUT my GROUND CUMIN bottle is nice and large with a pretty red label on it and nice BIG letters too. Oh yes. Yes I did. I was just shaking the shit outa that bottle all over my cake and I thought...Man do I want tacos. Not breakfast but more like breakfast BURRITOS. So I finally looked at the motherfiretrucking lable. I don't need to go on do I? You're all smart people.
Well I grabbed my icing knife and began so scrape no, DIG that crap off of there. This was actually fairly easy since I held the knife at the correct angle but not all was gone when I began to sprinkle the correct and more loved spice on my not so masterful masterpiece. I shrugged and wondered why I didn't start over. It had become a matter of pride and well, curiosity. Could I have made the perfect combination of savory and sweet? I wanted to know. So I baked it. And I mowed it a little along the edges because that rat bastard kept popping out the sides and threatening to devour my oven from the inside out. Finally, it was finished and I pulled my golden brown "cake" to let it cool.
I confess I was leery. But I never said a word and cut it up for the kids to eat. "Take milk. You're gonna want that..." I gushed with June Cleaver enthusiasm. The kids loaded their plates with butter pats and grabbed milk cups and headed for the table. I closed my eyes and prayed to the patron saint of kitchens: San Pasqual.
My phone rang.
"And-let-them-love-it-and-not-get-sick-amen!" I whispered in one continuous breath and hustled out to take the call, leaving them with their unsuspecting tastebuds. When I returned, I found almost the entire cake demolished, devoured and de-gone.
Thank you San Pasqual. Amen.
So what do you guys think you will want for supper?
"mmm I don't know. Tacos?"
The crowd paused and seemed to taste the air...."Hmmmmm" I heard them thinking. "Yeeees YES we would like tacos."
I laughed and nodded. "I got that." Cinnamon or cumin. I don't think I can lose.
Thanks guys for stopping by. I'm so very sorry I've been away. I've missed you terribly. Let's see if I can get back on track. Enjoy your day. Come back soon. You know I love your company.
For this fun filled weekend getaway, I was asked to make my breakfast special: my grandmother's crumb cake. This is not just ANY crumb cake. This is the softest, sweetest, buttery, crumbly pan of goodness that can leave you only with peaceful closed eyes and the words: "Sweet Lord." It is that good. It gives me chills to eat it; Hell to THINK of eating it. So of course I sacrificed and said with a mock heavy sigh: "I suppooooose" Secretly,I couldn't WAIT for breakfast. In fact, I began right away. (Because as those of you who know me 1) I feed people every 20 minutes and 2) I am really good at hiding what I'm thinking...) My desire was to torture them with the smell of freshly baked cake: butter, sugar ohhhh yes. And to make it worse, I add extra cinnamon on top. It's simply beautiful. I think I might need a cigarette here ...whew...It's almost as sexy as peanut butter wontons. But I'll put the "Adult Content" sign up for that one. heehee....
I got my masterpiece put together with a little more trouble than anticipated. The butter must be soft but using my Fukishima strength microwave, it melted. This in turn eliminated my "crumblies." You can't "crumble" what appears to be sweet mud. Hmph! No problem. I'll make a feckin STREUSEL cake! I'm a good enough cook to pull that off and since we're starting with Dear Nanny's recipe; how can I fail? Ahhh Dommit. Don't tempt fate.
I sifted the flour and smiled to myself. This was STILL going to blind them with breakfast desire. I streuseled and let it sit for a moment while I panicked about not having cinnamon. Crap! I would have to drive up to the store to get it. Okay, one more no problem and off I went. Returning with one of my favorite spices; fabulous cinnamon. I put it in my spice rack and had to step away once more because I was called urgently to the front porch.
My children had been playing archaeologist. They found bones; several heads and some vertebrae so we were having a little lesson. No not about what they were but why we don't bring them home and leave them on Mommy's porch. I couldn't help feeling like a voodoo priestess. Do you want me to read the tea leaves or would you prefer I get my doll out here and ...ooops didja feel THAT one? heehee. Kidding. Wrong doll. Today I'm kidding. So I informed my little Frankensteins to bag up what they discovered and we would begin the cleaning process to remove all the... uhhh... "bits". How about we just leave that portion right there ...on my porch. (sigh)
But back to the kitchen I went to realize I had used self rising flour and it had been busy doing JUST that all over my counter. It had swallowed my cake pan and crawled half way to the sink. For a drink of water? Perhaps. A mound so hefty SHOULD be thirsty after such a far stretch. I sighed and scooped. Now I had TWO cakes; sorta. I straightened around the "pretty one" and fixed it all nice and neat. Well now. I have my streusel cake bread thing and all I need is the Piece De Resistance...my cinnamon.
Do you know that in my kitchen there are only two spice bottles that look the same? Well at Promises, this is true. My GROUND CINNAMON bottle is nice and large with a pretty red label on it and nice BIG letters.. BUT my GROUND CUMIN bottle is nice and large with a pretty red label on it and nice BIG letters too. Oh yes. Yes I did. I was just shaking the shit outa that bottle all over my cake and I thought...Man do I want tacos. Not breakfast but more like breakfast BURRITOS. So I finally looked at the motherfiretrucking lable. I don't need to go on do I? You're all smart people.
Well I grabbed my icing knife and began so scrape no, DIG that crap off of there. This was actually fairly easy since I held the knife at the correct angle but not all was gone when I began to sprinkle the correct and more loved spice on my not so masterful masterpiece. I shrugged and wondered why I didn't start over. It had become a matter of pride and well, curiosity. Could I have made the perfect combination of savory and sweet? I wanted to know. So I baked it. And I mowed it a little along the edges because that rat bastard kept popping out the sides and threatening to devour my oven from the inside out. Finally, it was finished and I pulled my golden brown "cake" to let it cool.
I confess I was leery. But I never said a word and cut it up for the kids to eat. "Take milk. You're gonna want that..." I gushed with June Cleaver enthusiasm. The kids loaded their plates with butter pats and grabbed milk cups and headed for the table. I closed my eyes and prayed to the patron saint of kitchens: San Pasqual.
My phone rang.
"And-let-them-love-it-and-not-get-sick-amen!" I whispered in one continuous breath and hustled out to take the call, leaving them with their unsuspecting tastebuds. When I returned, I found almost the entire cake demolished, devoured and de-gone.
Thank you San Pasqual. Amen.
So what do you guys think you will want for supper?
"mmm I don't know. Tacos?"
The crowd paused and seemed to taste the air...."Hmmmmm" I heard them thinking. "Yeeees YES we would like tacos."
I laughed and nodded. "I got that." Cinnamon or cumin. I don't think I can lose.
Thanks guys for stopping by. I'm so very sorry I've been away. I've missed you terribly. Let's see if I can get back on track. Enjoy your day. Come back soon. You know I love your company.
Monday, April 11, 2011
WPS
This one? Well, it's just what I consider bubblegum music. For me, there isn't any reason or meaning, just a fun song. Of course, I saw Glee and I get the inferences to the social perimeters and acceptable boundaries. But really? It's got a beat and I like to dance to it....sigh...
I'm such a shallow warrior.
But ..can you just...
"raise your glass"?
C'mon. we have some running to do...
I'm such a shallow warrior.
But ..can you just...
"raise your glass"?
C'mon. we have some running to do...
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Other Side
These woods are dark. I think they are spooky at school time too, not just sleep time. Mommy told us not to walk through here ever, but we are late for class and Daniel said we have to hurry. He says we can outrun all the scary bad stuff. Since he's nine and I'm only four, I know he's right. He says dahtension is WORSE than the bogeyman and that's made up anyway. I dunno. I'm glad Daniel is holding my hand. He's got a good grip so I know I'm safe. He's walking fast so I know we'll make it to the other side.
I'm running so hard. My chest hurts and when I breathe it's all stickly. I can't keep up. I didn't mean to trip. There was a root sticking out. I guess it was my fault. I woke him up.
The bogeyman.
I never heard him comin. I guess 'cause I was breathin too loud. He grabbed me and swung me around like I do my dollies when we play ring around the rosies, but it wasn't in a fun way. I was dizzy; sick dizzy. I heard Daniel screamin for me to run then he was coming at me. Daniel was angry. Why was he angry at me? I fell down on accident. I didn't mean to wake him. Oh Daniel I'm so sorry. So sorry. Please don't be mad Danial. Say you won't.
The bogeyman was REALLY mad. He shoved my brother down and kicked him. Then he tossed me down and jumped him.
"Hey! You stop!" I was yellin and I was hittin him hard but it just sounded like those little side by side drums we play in Mrs. Fanelli's music class. The bogeyman picked up a stick and held it over Daniels throat until there was little bubbles and chokey sounds from his mouth. Daniel turned purple and his eyes got big. He looked at me with bug eyes. So big.
"Run" is what he told me. Run.
I knew he wasn't kidding. I took off. I ran so hard. Faster than gym class. Better than recess. My head was screaming but I didn't make a noise. I just kept going but I didn't know where. I was lost but my legs were still working and they were hot inside. I knew that meant I had energy.
The bogeyman threw a rock and it hit me. It thunked way down deep in my shoulder and head. I was cloudy then. He came up on me and swooped me up. I was kicking and biting. I was pretending I was a wild animal. I just knew that would scare him. But he tucked me under his arm like a schoolbook and walked back into the woods. Deep in there. He was dragging Daniel by his foot. Daniel's feet are ticklish but he wasn't laughing. Not anymore.
That's when the tears came. I knew I was in trouble and I wouldn't be laughing anymore either. I told him I wanted to go home. To go to school. I told him I was late and that I'd get attention for bein late. He hit my mouth. It felt like lava was running along my teeth and in my mouth. It was awful; tasted like ...hot pennies. He did it every time I tried to tell him. I stopped talking. He ripped my shirt and yanked at my clothes.
I stopped thinking.
I thought God put a limit on the pain we could feel. When it gets too much we go to Heaven. That's what I thought. But I was wrong because the pain went on and on; way past Heaven; much deeper. I stopped feeling and closed my eyes. It was easier that way.
Daniel sat next to me and waited for me to wake up. He was a funny color and there were a lot of marks on him. He wiped my face and tried to put my shirt back on. It was all torn up.
"Mommy's gonna be mad." I jammed my fist in my eye like a baby and cried for a while.
He rubbed my shoulder and shook his head no. He took my hand again. It was cold but I felt safe. We were at least together and the bogeyman must have gone home to sleep. I knew now to walk quietly. We wandered around and watched things, listened to things. I kept trying to go to school. I didn't want to miss gym and it was pizza day. I love pizza day, but Daniel said no again. So we walked some more. He sighed a lot and I cried. We sat down near a couple of leaf piles and Daniel told me we had to stay here. I cried. Howled like those monkeys at the zoo. I ran around and tried to get home but I wouldn't go too far. I didn't want to wake the bogeyman again. I just wanted to go home or school or somewhere. I didn't want to stay here anymore.
Daniel said we had to. For a while anyway. Daniel is smart. He's nine. I'm only four. So he knows what he talks about. So we sat and waited.
A long long time.
The woods are thick and you can't tell when it is in the day so when we saw the other kids coming in to the woods I figured we still might be okay to get to school. Pizza day, you know. They were running and whooping. I jumped up and ran after them. I wanted them to be quiet. The bogeyman...
But they just kept at it. I tried to shush them. I asked and pretty-pleased until my throat got sore. I have a sticky scratch all along there from the bogeyman. It hurts and feels all bumpy-yuck.
I heard him before they did. I saw him come from behind the trees near the little river. He was being sneaky at first. I shouted for Daniel to help me. I ran for those kids. I wanted to show them the way out. I wanted to go that way too. We should all run and run and never look back. We could all be safe again. I just knew it. I shouted for Daniel again. He was right behind the bogeyman. He was watching and moving slowly. I almost laughed at Daniel bein sneaky too.
The bogeyman began to chase the kids. They were sure screamin now. I saw him throw a rock; just like at me. The kid fell down on a pile of leaves. The ones where Daniel and I sit. They are comfy. He was rolling around and moaning and then as the bogeyman grabbed him he got fired up again. The bogeyman sat on top of him and was choking him like Daniel. I was mad. I began to hit him and scream. The boy was wiggling hard in the leaves and that's when I saw it. Me. My face. My hair. My throat with a huge cut and my clothes all dirty and torn. I'm only four but I get it. I'm not alive anymore.
I felt Daniel at my side. He looked down and then he gritted his teeth. Ohhhh boy. That means some real big trouble is on the way. He picked up a rock and clonked him. The air around us was cold and wavy. There was a popping sound and the bogeyman got knocked over.
"RUN!" we screamed in our ghost voices. That's what we are you know; ghosts.
The bogeyman rolled over. His head was bleeding and I was glad. Daniel hit him again. He became more solid to us. We began to give paybacks. He screamed somethin fierce; like a little girl. He begged us to let him go. He promised to never do it again. He said sorry. He got up and limped a little but I jumped up on his back. All that pain I felt? I got to give it back. Every drop.
The boy scrambled and took off. His friends helped him. They were all yelling and grabbing at each other. I wish I could have gone with them. I'd like to run. Home to my Mommy to hug and kiss her. Tell her Daniel and I are okay but we miss her. We got the bogyman and now everyone will be okay.
He was lying there very broken and quiet. Daniel and I sat and waited. He'd wake up eventually. I saw a little light and heard some happy songs at the edge of the woods. It was warm over there. Daniel and I went to look and see. There was a kind voice that was asking for us. It told us to come over. I wasn't afraid. I took Daniel's hand.
The bogeyman began to wake. For a moment I was scared. I wanted to run again but the voice told me it was all right. There was a real pushy cold wind behind us and the ground began to shake. The bogeyman was moaning and crying again and I smelled more pennies and something else. Something bad; worse than dirty gutter leaves in spring. I felt it behind me making those baby hairs stand up. I knew not to look. Some things are just too scary to see for the real thing.
I'm going to the nice voice. I don't hurt anymore. My throat is getting better and Daniel is smiling. I hear Gramma's voice...I can go now and be happy; run and play. I hope there's pizza day in Heaven.
This one was another tangent. I wanted to write form a diffferent point of view and see how I did in "conversation" I may have bit off more than I could chew, choosing a child's voice as the narrative, but it was an experiment. I think it's pretty good.
You?
I'm glad you stopped and sat with me a while. I've been blue so the company has done us both some good, I hope.
I'm running so hard. My chest hurts and when I breathe it's all stickly. I can't keep up. I didn't mean to trip. There was a root sticking out. I guess it was my fault. I woke him up.
The bogeyman.
I never heard him comin. I guess 'cause I was breathin too loud. He grabbed me and swung me around like I do my dollies when we play ring around the rosies, but it wasn't in a fun way. I was dizzy; sick dizzy. I heard Daniel screamin for me to run then he was coming at me. Daniel was angry. Why was he angry at me? I fell down on accident. I didn't mean to wake him. Oh Daniel I'm so sorry. So sorry. Please don't be mad Danial. Say you won't.
The bogeyman was REALLY mad. He shoved my brother down and kicked him. Then he tossed me down and jumped him.
"Hey! You stop!" I was yellin and I was hittin him hard but it just sounded like those little side by side drums we play in Mrs. Fanelli's music class. The bogeyman picked up a stick and held it over Daniels throat until there was little bubbles and chokey sounds from his mouth. Daniel turned purple and his eyes got big. He looked at me with bug eyes. So big.
"Run" is what he told me. Run.
I knew he wasn't kidding. I took off. I ran so hard. Faster than gym class. Better than recess. My head was screaming but I didn't make a noise. I just kept going but I didn't know where. I was lost but my legs were still working and they were hot inside. I knew that meant I had energy.
The bogeyman threw a rock and it hit me. It thunked way down deep in my shoulder and head. I was cloudy then. He came up on me and swooped me up. I was kicking and biting. I was pretending I was a wild animal. I just knew that would scare him. But he tucked me under his arm like a schoolbook and walked back into the woods. Deep in there. He was dragging Daniel by his foot. Daniel's feet are ticklish but he wasn't laughing. Not anymore.
That's when the tears came. I knew I was in trouble and I wouldn't be laughing anymore either. I told him I wanted to go home. To go to school. I told him I was late and that I'd get attention for bein late. He hit my mouth. It felt like lava was running along my teeth and in my mouth. It was awful; tasted like ...hot pennies. He did it every time I tried to tell him. I stopped talking. He ripped my shirt and yanked at my clothes.
I stopped thinking.
I thought God put a limit on the pain we could feel. When it gets too much we go to Heaven. That's what I thought. But I was wrong because the pain went on and on; way past Heaven; much deeper. I stopped feeling and closed my eyes. It was easier that way.
Daniel sat next to me and waited for me to wake up. He was a funny color and there were a lot of marks on him. He wiped my face and tried to put my shirt back on. It was all torn up.
"Mommy's gonna be mad." I jammed my fist in my eye like a baby and cried for a while.
He rubbed my shoulder and shook his head no. He took my hand again. It was cold but I felt safe. We were at least together and the bogeyman must have gone home to sleep. I knew now to walk quietly. We wandered around and watched things, listened to things. I kept trying to go to school. I didn't want to miss gym and it was pizza day. I love pizza day, but Daniel said no again. So we walked some more. He sighed a lot and I cried. We sat down near a couple of leaf piles and Daniel told me we had to stay here. I cried. Howled like those monkeys at the zoo. I ran around and tried to get home but I wouldn't go too far. I didn't want to wake the bogeyman again. I just wanted to go home or school or somewhere. I didn't want to stay here anymore.
Daniel said we had to. For a while anyway. Daniel is smart. He's nine. I'm only four. So he knows what he talks about. So we sat and waited.
A long long time.
The woods are thick and you can't tell when it is in the day so when we saw the other kids coming in to the woods I figured we still might be okay to get to school. Pizza day, you know. They were running and whooping. I jumped up and ran after them. I wanted them to be quiet. The bogeyman...
But they just kept at it. I tried to shush them. I asked and pretty-pleased until my throat got sore. I have a sticky scratch all along there from the bogeyman. It hurts and feels all bumpy-yuck.
I heard him before they did. I saw him come from behind the trees near the little river. He was being sneaky at first. I shouted for Daniel to help me. I ran for those kids. I wanted to show them the way out. I wanted to go that way too. We should all run and run and never look back. We could all be safe again. I just knew it. I shouted for Daniel again. He was right behind the bogeyman. He was watching and moving slowly. I almost laughed at Daniel bein sneaky too.
The bogeyman began to chase the kids. They were sure screamin now. I saw him throw a rock; just like at me. The kid fell down on a pile of leaves. The ones where Daniel and I sit. They are comfy. He was rolling around and moaning and then as the bogeyman grabbed him he got fired up again. The bogeyman sat on top of him and was choking him like Daniel. I was mad. I began to hit him and scream. The boy was wiggling hard in the leaves and that's when I saw it. Me. My face. My hair. My throat with a huge cut and my clothes all dirty and torn. I'm only four but I get it. I'm not alive anymore.
I felt Daniel at my side. He looked down and then he gritted his teeth. Ohhhh boy. That means some real big trouble is on the way. He picked up a rock and clonked him. The air around us was cold and wavy. There was a popping sound and the bogeyman got knocked over.
"RUN!" we screamed in our ghost voices. That's what we are you know; ghosts.
The bogeyman rolled over. His head was bleeding and I was glad. Daniel hit him again. He became more solid to us. We began to give paybacks. He screamed somethin fierce; like a little girl. He begged us to let him go. He promised to never do it again. He said sorry. He got up and limped a little but I jumped up on his back. All that pain I felt? I got to give it back. Every drop.
The boy scrambled and took off. His friends helped him. They were all yelling and grabbing at each other. I wish I could have gone with them. I'd like to run. Home to my Mommy to hug and kiss her. Tell her Daniel and I are okay but we miss her. We got the bogyman and now everyone will be okay.
He was lying there very broken and quiet. Daniel and I sat and waited. He'd wake up eventually. I saw a little light and heard some happy songs at the edge of the woods. It was warm over there. Daniel and I went to look and see. There was a kind voice that was asking for us. It told us to come over. I wasn't afraid. I took Daniel's hand.
The bogeyman began to wake. For a moment I was scared. I wanted to run again but the voice told me it was all right. There was a real pushy cold wind behind us and the ground began to shake. The bogeyman was moaning and crying again and I smelled more pennies and something else. Something bad; worse than dirty gutter leaves in spring. I felt it behind me making those baby hairs stand up. I knew not to look. Some things are just too scary to see for the real thing.
I'm going to the nice voice. I don't hurt anymore. My throat is getting better and Daniel is smiling. I hear Gramma's voice...I can go now and be happy; run and play. I hope there's pizza day in Heaven.
This one was another tangent. I wanted to write form a diffferent point of view and see how I did in "conversation" I may have bit off more than I could chew, choosing a child's voice as the narrative, but it was an experiment. I think it's pretty good.
You?
I'm glad you stopped and sat with me a while. I've been blue so the company has done us both some good, I hope.
Monday, April 4, 2011
WPS
As you can see, I DO need a hero today. My arse is a-draggin.
We had an awesome weekend and I guess I just don't want it to end. This song is one that I crank up to the point where my teeth rattle. I jump around to this song more than most so...selfishly? This one is for me.
Okay, off I go.
Warrior HooYAH!
Have a good day.
We had an awesome weekend and I guess I just don't want it to end. This song is one that I crank up to the point where my teeth rattle. I jump around to this song more than most so...selfishly? This one is for me.
Okay, off I go.
Warrior HooYAH!
Have a good day.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
A Life of Come Backs
He stared at her; pink, new and wiggly. She smiled and cooed. He admitted later that he was afraid to touch or hold her as she might shatter, but he learned and they grew together through spoonfuls, tantrums and snuggling He loved her. Even on the nights when he was too tired to think, he would make his way back into the nursery to watch her. It seemed that when he woke:
He held her hands; tiny and damp from sucking on them as her little bare feet kissed the floor. She teetered away. He stood tall above her, afraid she would fall and break. She went to Momma, turned and gurgled
"C'mon back..." he happily whispered and then swooped her into the air when his eager hands clasped hers. Their hearts filled with love and pride
"Daddeeeeeeee!" she laughed. He welcomed her return with silly raspberry kisses.
"I love you." he whispered into the crook of her neck. He inhaled the sweet smell of soap and milk.
And in that next instant he found himself yelling:
"Pedal-pedal-pedal-keeeeeep pedalling!"His mantra, as her skinny legs worked furiously to make the bike go. It wobbled and bounced around leaving his chest tight and his mind certain she would flop to the ground. He would never tell her the number of band aids he had in his pocket "just in case
"Daddy! Daddy! Watch ooooo Don't let go~ I can DOOOO it Daddy! Lemme GOOOOO!"
And he watched her sail away; bobbing and weaving. He chased her for a moment, until the panting and sweat slowed him and with amazement, he watched as she turned, popping into the grass of neighboring yards and clunked her way back to him. Pink streamers cracked and whistled with her brake-neck speed. The look of confidence and self satisfaction radiated from half way down the block. He laughed and gulped in the feeling. He clapped and wiped the sweat with his sleeve that must have trailed down to his eyes. They stung and watered some more. She squealed and zoomed by; just like these years he thought. He shook his head and whispered he loved her.
Then as he blinked, she rubbed the steering wheel, swallowing a fear so huge, he heard it, or was that his own? He ran through the checklist for the eight hundredth time as Momma patted his back. He stepped away.
"Off you go then." And his lip quivered to see the tiny bike hanging long forgotten on the garage wall. Most of the streamers were gone and rust had claimed many of the spokes in those little wheels. She went around the corner and out of sight. He slowly wandered down the drive and stared until the tail lights disappeared. He continued to watch for her until his wife called "supper". Then for a lifetime, he laid in bed commanding the garage door open. At a very late hour, it finally obeyed, letting her back in. He sighed and loved that she was all right. He whispered the words "I love you." with a soft smile
The church bells rang; clanging heavily. The tears could not be denied. People sat expectantly; fidgetting nervously. The man waited at the front for her. On weak knees, she willed herself to move. The aisle was miles long and the terror the unknown took breath after breath, leaving her chest burning. Her lips tingled. Her palms sweated and her mouth felt full of sawdust. At last she reached the front though the last few steps felt as if her legs were made of lead. She reached out to hold his hand for comfort. Only the long cool metal of his casket held her now. She clutched the edge of the coffin hatefully, loathing the smoothness. Her quaking hands warily draped the lone pink tassel beside him on the white pillows of sorrow. Closing her eyes, feeling the thunder of silence, she whispered the words she'd felt all her life
"I love you. Come back."
Surprised? Me too. I cried all the way through this one. I have a happier one on the way. Pass the tissues please. Thanks for coming over. We all need a good cry now and again.
He held her hands; tiny and damp from sucking on them as her little bare feet kissed the floor. She teetered away. He stood tall above her, afraid she would fall and break. She went to Momma, turned and gurgled
"C'mon back..." he happily whispered and then swooped her into the air when his eager hands clasped hers. Their hearts filled with love and pride
"Daddeeeeeeee!" she laughed. He welcomed her return with silly raspberry kisses.
"I love you." he whispered into the crook of her neck. He inhaled the sweet smell of soap and milk.
And in that next instant he found himself yelling:
"Pedal-pedal-pedal-keeeeeep pedalling!"His mantra, as her skinny legs worked furiously to make the bike go. It wobbled and bounced around leaving his chest tight and his mind certain she would flop to the ground. He would never tell her the number of band aids he had in his pocket "just in case
"Daddy! Daddy! Watch ooooo Don't let go~ I can DOOOO it Daddy! Lemme GOOOOO!"
And he watched her sail away; bobbing and weaving. He chased her for a moment, until the panting and sweat slowed him and with amazement, he watched as she turned, popping into the grass of neighboring yards and clunked her way back to him. Pink streamers cracked and whistled with her brake-neck speed. The look of confidence and self satisfaction radiated from half way down the block. He laughed and gulped in the feeling. He clapped and wiped the sweat with his sleeve that must have trailed down to his eyes. They stung and watered some more. She squealed and zoomed by; just like these years he thought. He shook his head and whispered he loved her.
Then as he blinked, she rubbed the steering wheel, swallowing a fear so huge, he heard it, or was that his own? He ran through the checklist for the eight hundredth time as Momma patted his back. He stepped away.
"Off you go then." And his lip quivered to see the tiny bike hanging long forgotten on the garage wall. Most of the streamers were gone and rust had claimed many of the spokes in those little wheels. She went around the corner and out of sight. He slowly wandered down the drive and stared until the tail lights disappeared. He continued to watch for her until his wife called "supper". Then for a lifetime, he laid in bed commanding the garage door open. At a very late hour, it finally obeyed, letting her back in. He sighed and loved that she was all right. He whispered the words "I love you." with a soft smile
The church bells rang; clanging heavily. The tears could not be denied. People sat expectantly; fidgetting nervously. The man waited at the front for her. On weak knees, she willed herself to move. The aisle was miles long and the terror the unknown took breath after breath, leaving her chest burning. Her lips tingled. Her palms sweated and her mouth felt full of sawdust. At last she reached the front though the last few steps felt as if her legs were made of lead. She reached out to hold his hand for comfort. Only the long cool metal of his casket held her now. She clutched the edge of the coffin hatefully, loathing the smoothness. Her quaking hands warily draped the lone pink tassel beside him on the white pillows of sorrow. Closing her eyes, feeling the thunder of silence, she whispered the words she'd felt all her life
"I love you. Come back."
Surprised? Me too. I cried all the way through this one. I have a happier one on the way. Pass the tissues please. Thanks for coming over. We all need a good cry now and again.
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