May the peace and spirit of the season find you happy and healthy.  

May the love of family and friends be the greatest gift you receive.

We are up north with ice on the lake and enough snow to be beautiful; giving the ultimate reason to snuggle and giggle. I've shared a perfect Christmas weekend with those close to me, but I'm looking forward to the surpise and fun of tomorrow. I miss my dear friends that are far away, glad we will be together soon; despite the Myans' predictions. Tonight is the quiet night of tradition: everyone's favorite snack, small gifts, wonderful mocktails for the kids  and of course "A Christmas Story".

come and join us. "RALPHIE!"

Merry Christmas everyone. Bless you and yours.

With snowy hugs and a warm heart,

Tess

Well, what would the holidays be without a little PES? (Pissy Elf Syndrome) I want to thank my contributor for this. I thought it was hilarious; almost as funny as the cookie recipe...

 I'll be back before the holiday. 
love n stuff.
Tess

Dear Santa, How are you? How is Mrs. Claus? I hope everyone, from the reindeer to the elves, is fine. I have been a very good boy this year. I would like an X-Box 360 with Call of Duty IV and an iPhone 4 for Christmas. I hope you remember that come Christmas Day. Merry Christmas, Timmy Jones Dear Timmy, Thank you for you letter. Mrs. Claus, the reindeer and the elves are all fine and thank you for asking about them. Santa is a little worried all the time you spend playing video games and texting. Santa wouldn't want you to get fat. Since you have indeed been a good boy, I think I'll bring you something you can go outside and play with. Merry Christmas, Santa Claus Mr. Claus, Seeing that I have fulfilled the "naughty vs. Nice" contract, set by you I might add, I feel confident that you can see your way clear to granting me what I have asked for. I certainly wouldn't want to turn this joyous season into one of litigation. Also, don't you think that a jibe at my weight coming from an overweight man who goes out once a year is a bit trite? Respectfully, Tim Jones Mr. Jones, While I have acknowledged you have met the "nice" criteria, need I remind you that your Christmas list is a request and in no way is it a guarantee of services provided. Should you wish to pursue legal action, well that is your right. Please know, however, that my attorney's have been on retainer ever since the Burgermeister Meisterburger incident and will be more than happy to take you on in open court. Additionally, the exercise I alluded to will not only improve your health, but also improve you social skills and potentially help clear up a complexion that looks like the bottom of the Burger King fry bin most days. Very Truly Yours, S Claus Now look here Fat Man, I told you what I want and I expect you to bring it. I was attempting to be polite about this but you brought my looks and my friends into this. Now you just be disrespecting me. I'm about to tweet my boys and we're gonna be waiting for your fat ass and I'm taking my game console, my game, my phone, and whatever else I want. WHAT EVER I WANT, MAN! T-Bone Listen Pizza Face, Seriously??? You think a dude that breaks into every house in the world on one night and never gets caught sweats a skinny g-banger wannabe? "He sees you when you're sleeping; He knows when you're awake". Sound familiar, genius? You know what kind of resources I have at my disposal. I got your sh*t wired, Jack. I go all around the world and see ways to hurt people that if I described them right now, you'd throw up your Totino's pizza roll all over the carpet of your mom's basement. You're not getting what you asked for, but I'm still stopping by your crib to stomp a mud hole in you're a** and then walk it dry. Chew on that, Petunia. S Clizzy Dear Santa, Bring me whatever you see fit. I'll appreciate anything. Timmy Timmy, That's what I thought you little bastard. Santa

Here we go a-carolling

It's that time of year. We are down to the last few gifts and purchases. We have to scramble for cards if we are going to send them, finalize menus for feasts with friends and family, and the worst chore of all; wrapping. Ugh! This is the ONE thing I despise doing. At last I got the nerve up. I pulled out the boxes of paper rolls and the tub of scraps not to mention the bags of goodies I use for my bows, tape, scissors, tags and then yesterday, I locked myself away.  Like the wolf man who chained himself in a cell... I wasn't comin out until it was over. I set up shop every year and torture myself with those instruments for hours while blaring holiday music as if it would calm me or help me through. It doesn't "We Wish you a Merry Christmas". I can try though.

 Winston and Birdie sat patiently outside the door, every once in a while stuffing a paw under there and sighing heavily to subtly hint that they wanted in. "Santa Baby"...  What could they do? Lay on the pillows? I opened  the door and cautiously, they stepped in. "soooo THIS is the GUEST ROOM" they seemed to sniff in amazement.  Realizing they weren't going to get yelled at for being in the one room of the house they are normally forbidden entry, they were ecstatic; quickly parking their  furry behinds on the pillows and extra blankets laid out for them. They smiled their panty, puppy smiles.  It was too dom cute. This would be good after all. "Fa-la-la-la-lahhhh" ...

I set out the loot and took inventory. "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" was playing. I love that one. I grinned and felt the warmth of the Yule.  Yep. It looked pretty even.  I could begin. I pulled price stickers off, sticking them to a little scrap.  I unrolled the brightly colored paper. "This won't be so bad." I thought again to myself while humming "White Christmas". The toddlers agreed with many chuffs and much wagging. Gift number one was for my daughter. I laid it out and smiled, knowing how excited she'd be to unwrap it. I gladly began to fold... BUT... "O Holy Night"...
 Winston needed to smell it, both gift and paper. He sauntered in to the middle of the bed.  Birdie decided she wanted to eat the stickers from the scrap.  So she sat down on top of the scissors and pen with said scrap between her paws and began nibblin. Winston decided that would be cool to try but Birdie informed him with a snipe and a growl that "No. I'm afraid only ONE of us can do that job" so he had to go back to sniffing and standing on the paper, punching little holes in it. Only where the gift showed of course. Mariah Carey was screeching about "All I want for Christmas..." My ears were bleeding and the toddlers were whimpering. "All I wanted..." was for her to stop.

But I was not to be robbed of a tender Christmas moment. Oh no. I gently put Winston back on his blanket and took the stickers from Birdie, sending her to her blanket.  "Everyone...stay put." I shook my finger. They lowered their heads and slowly wagged "I'm sorry Mommy." Good enough. Back to it. "Silent Night"

I had success in wrapping three gifts. Winston got down and began rummaging through the bags, pulling everything out to smell and unfold it.  Birdie wanted to help eat the price tags so she laid on the rumpled gifts and gnawed those off for me; including the plastic thing OR the corner of the box. Then Wee man got tangled up in the bags and began to attack them. Unbeknownst to me, the room was filled with these evil bags, Hell bent on keeping MY dedicated Winston from his inspection job, not to MENTION the spool of tape his sister had discovered  was jsut SOOO delicious and much easier to come by than having to wait for the sticker thingies her stinky brother would point out on the gifts he was undoing and pulling from the afore mentioned evil bags. "WHAT child is this?" oh no wait... that didn't come out right...

"You're a ROTTER... Mr. Grinch...." Yeah.. That was what I was feelin when they decided to tear up the scrap paper and jump around flipping half the gifts off the bed and sending the scissors and other needed tools to the floor and under the bed JUST out of reach.  I quickly graduated to "I'm gettin NUTTIN for Chriiiiistmaaaaas... Mommy and Daddy are MAAAAAAD"... and was thinking to myself how much I'd like to put my two precious toddlers "Away in a Manger." Yep. Outside. Away. WAAAAY far away.

And as fast as a sleigh whip crack, I ushered the two playmates "dashing" in to the hall and slammed the door. Then "Hark! The Harold Angels Sing" as they cried to come back in and be good. I continued to wrap solo through the "Twelve Days of Christmas"

At last I was finished. What should have taken two hours took four. But as I opened the door and the toddlers raced in, they were overtaken by the "Winter Wonderland" of boxes and ribbons. They hopped up on the bed and I sat with them glad to be "Home for the Holidays." Cheech came in and "I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus"  he thanked me for all the hard work

Maybe there is something to that music after all.

Feliz Navidad


Silliness I know. But I hope you smiled and enjoyed yourself. This is a crazy time for us all. We could use a little giggling and pointing. I will be leaving soon for the holidays. I hope we can catch up before then. Enjoy this time with those you love and who love you. It's the greatest gift we can give or receive: time.

Spirits of Knight

After our breakup, I was devastated.  I didn't sleep for months, eating little but crying a lot. I watched my face grow thin and sad, my body small and frail.  Evan did more than break my heart; he crushed my soul.  I thought about killing myself but was too afraid. If I had nothing to live for so what could I possibly hope for in death?

I moved away. I bought the house of my (our) dreams and stored just that in it.  I dreamt of a time we could have shared the decorating, though I did it alone.  I had the dream of hosting parties together and being the belle of the ball; catching Evan's eye as I flitted from guest to guest; laughing and flashing some romantic piece of jewelry or relating some silly little tale of affection between us to our jealous friends. Adoration that was palpable. 

Despair was reality.

But I persevered and made the best of my sorrowful situation.  I got a sexy new haircut and tightened up my body with exercise. I decorated my new castle and made new friends without him.  I hosted that party, buying an elegant dress that flattered my new body ~ the one he didn't want. I giggled and coyly flirted with men I wasn't interested in but enjoyed the attention nonetheless. I missed him though no one needed to know that.

The house took much of my time and I was grateful.  It taught me how to sheet rock and dry wall.  It gently coaxed me in to crown molding and plumbing.  I then became a brazen electrician, jokingly perming my hair shortly after the rewiring of my stark palace-for-one and teasing all my friends about the screwdriver in the live outlet.  My home taught me to survive and let in again, at least during the daylight.  Friends peeked in and shone through, cheering me and warming me like the furnace I had recently replaced. That's what I ended up doing; replacing my life. 

At night it was still just me and my house.  I cried to the walls and corners while it sat strong, silent.  It shifted patiently as I questioned myself, beat myself up and hated that I wasn't enough for Evan to love.  In my dreams I was soothed by gentle breezes and comforting whispers.  I would wake some nights to footsteps of a man I wished was there.  The dark played tricks on my eyes giving almost a form but when I asked or questioned, once again I was robbed.  The night swallowed it; took that form, that hope away.  Eventually, night brought the ghost to me.  For most, his memory that drifted through my halls like smoke, would prove terrifying. But for me, it was benign; just troubled sleep or panicked awakenings.  Yet, as time tocked by, I began to hear more and more; see things I know now I shouldn't have. He came closer and I realized it was he who had given me the comfort, the shoulder to cry on. He had been my knight and so that is what I called him.

He hid from me less and less, addressing me directly; seeming to enjoy my being awake.  He sought me out with gentle knocking or soft sighs.  I never really objected because I didn't want to be alone.  He was company for me.  His shadow became a fixture in the corner of my room at night; the voice often asking me if I minded he was here, if I would tell him about my life.  He in turn, spoke of the shadows and darkness; the loneliness and empty space that had become his heart and soul of the house we shared.  He told me he was grateful for my presence.  He liked what I had done with his former home.  He wished that he had known me as a person.  I laughed with him and said the same.  His shadow moved closer to my bed.  I did not object.  We spoke every night and he waited for me to come home to him.  I learned to be a night owl for Knight, comforted by his featureless shadow.  We shared heartbreak.  His true love had died tragically, suddenly, leaving him alone in a home they were to share.  I found this ironic and fitting to my own story.  But my tangible life did not stop.  I still had friends and parties.  I went to work and by all counts I thrived in my new environment.  I left the past behind and to all who saw me, was growing.  No one would believe that I was dreaming of a time when my future was still; frozen in the walls of my ... our home.  He wanted that too.  Rarely did he speak directly of my death or that he wanted it.  But we both knew and understood.  

Then one summer night my doorbell rang.  It was Evan.  He had been searching for me;  not too hard since I was only a few miles away from our old haunts.  His life had crashed.  His dreams had broken and he needed what he never realized I had brought him.  He wanted me back.  

I let him in, leading him to the Redgrave chair near the fireplace where I had spent countless hours evilly plotting his life's end or disastrous wreck. He confessed sadness and even shed a few tears.  I brought wine and sat quietly, listening while he plotted what he thought we could accomplish together in a new and happy, love drenched life together; here in our dream home.  Of course, I was elated, overjoyed and felt the rush of love crawl over me like a forest fire. I was also leery and cautious.  I did not want to give in right away or even express desire to see him again. I sat and watched; listening, pulling away when he reached for me.  He definitely had something to prove.  But for the first time, there was hope.  He shared the same expectations of glamorous parties and all the while I watched the shadow behind him grow and darken. I had always heard that jealousy was a green eyed monster but this is untrue. 

My knight and filmy confidant did not revel in the promising new beginning and that was the first night I was ever afraid in our home.  The groaning and slamming of the doors was endless.  The upper floor windows opened and drained the house of warmth, comfort.  He refused to take his place near me or speak.  Instead, there was angry growling and snarls of harm.  My favorite knick-knacks were toppled and sleep was forbidden.  For days this went on.  I couldn't wait to go to work, often times leaving early so I could rest peacefully in my car in the dark empty lot for just a few moments.

The night I invited Evan to dinner ... such a regret. He looked too handsome for words and fit too easily in to my heart and arms.  He brought my favorite wine and politely complimented almost everything I did.  He remembered things that we had done together; trips we had taken; oh he played it all very well.  I tried to ignore the slamming upstairs and the angry stomping of my knight's disapproval.  I worked around his shorting out of my stove with take out from a favorite place and dismissed his tantrum of cutting the lights with candles.  Evan found it romantic and used the opportunity to get closer.  I did not push him away. I was eager to feel his lips again and taste the sweetness of his mouth.  I trembled as he held me, caressing my body through my clothes. I shivered remembering what we could be together.  I wanted this; life, touch, love. 

 I remember the wind picking up and blowing out the candles.  I remember the shadows becoming darker and shifting.  I guess maybe I knew, but I denied it.  The growl came from the corner and although I could not see perfectly, I knew he was there; my knight.  I broke from Evan and went to the corner, angry. I was prepared to scold him like a child and tell him to go.  I was going to cleanse this house and begin again. He was about to be dismissed.  I was going to live my life. With Evan.

When I got to him, there was a glow; a soft shimmer.  The moon was the only light I had to see by.  I realized my knight had taken form.  He stood before me; sort of.  His skin was slick and damp but radiated a heat.  His limbs were gangly and knobby, bending just a little too far in the other direction.  His eyes were milky though they had once been green.  Hair was once white and there were patches of it left but most had been replaced by a peeling crusted fungus.  The mouth was small and thin holding three or four rows of tiny needle like teeth.  It spun and glared at me,  jaw dropping in a yawl of gooey decay and fury. It swiped at me and I felt my skin slice under my blouse.  warmth began to trail across my chest.  It lunged at Evan with a shriek.

Evan never saw it coming.  Quickly it leapt on him, tossing him casually to the floor.  Perched on its spindly strong legs it pulled Evan's head up by the throat and with one slice separated his face from his skull.  It began to stab at Evan viciously; whimpering and spitting with malice as I began to smell sweat and copper.  I threw up and staggered to my future.  Knight reared his head and stopped me with one look.  He stood and placed the mask on his dead, hopeful face.  He stepped toward me and held out his hand, inviting me back in to his; our "life." 

My future was settled. My heart and hope shattered.  I took Knight's "hand" and stepped into my dark, still forever. Knight made my death physically painless.

People came and cleaned up what remained of my life; threw most of it away.  Our palace stood empty for a long time.  We wandered through its empty rooms, rarely speaking, regret and death now in our way.  When the new family came, I was overjoyed, seeing a family, children.  I hovered in the shadows for a glimpse in to life again.  Knight watched them from afar, suspicious and envious of my attention to them.  He promised to leave them alone if I stayed on the outside. This was difficult since  I was happier to be with them. Their children discovered me first. I hid from them as much as I could but they were too sensitive. They weren't afraid  and enjoying our game of hide and seek. They talked to me, sharing even the smallest things with me.  They called me by my name after researching my tragic death. I am welcome they say. They call me their friendly little spirit.  I wish it were true. Enjoying the time with them makes Knight ... malicious and mischievously. I have tried to warn them. I try to stay away. We don't need any more.

Spirits of Knight.



I sat down to write this a dozen times today. I finally got the time to do it.  I like it, though it is actually more than one story smashed together. I find the lack of dialogue makes it a little long. It could use the breaking up of some communication: maybe she and Knight could have spoken... eh. It's here and overall, I'm happy.

I hope you had a great week. I know this is a busy time for all of us but let's try to get together again soon.  I want to thank my newest visitors for their kind words and look forward to calling them friends. I am glad you stopped by and have enjoyed my work. And for those of you who come over and hang out regularly, I enjoy our time together.

Until next time...Thank you.

Well hello pretty people!
 I hate to do this (again, it seems) but a few minor tragedies have claimed most of my time this week..and weekend. I have a couple partials, a couple marinating and I just cant sit here long enough to do a dom thing with them.

I really hope that you enjoyed friends and family over the holiday.  I pray you had safe travels and if you went out and shopped, it was fruitful.(  ~ Buncha nutbags!)

Iam hoping to spend a coupld of evenings here this week so don't give up or go away. I'll be back soon I promise.

Enjoy what's left of a weekend.
Warm hugs
Tessa

Well my week is over and I must head back to work tomorrow.

I enjoyed my days up north; the otter, the eagles, beaver and even the coyotes in an eerie way. I had some snow and loved watching the ice begin to form across the water. It was great to have the fire going and write.( I have quite a few to get up but we'll wait for them. They need to marinate. :)  )  It's so beautiful and peaceful here. Cheech and I passed in the night so to speak as they headed up to spend a Paul Bunyan weekend; just the guys.

That meant girls only back home. so we decorated the house for the holidays, shopped, ate lunch out and then? What would any sane mother daughter duo do? We watched horror movies and scared ourselves rotten. It began with a few zombies but by the time the sun gave up on us, we were knee deep in jungle monsters and mutants.  The lights? Oh no they weren't on. Where's the fun in that?  We were too scared to even go to the kitchen to eat dinner and denied it by making fun of each other with nervous laughter:

"Chicken."

"No! YOU'RE chicken!"

~more nervous laughter.

Nobody moved.

 The dogs still had to go out though. so it became a game of "Your turn" Whoever lost that, was stuck outside with? Oh yeah, zombies, jungle monsters and mutants... I think I saw a crazed psychopathic killer near the barn. And to be completely unreasonable, we would turn the lights OUT on each other and stand there glaring at the lock....Do I? Should I? It would keep them out...

When we could no longer stand being in the family room, we turned on lights, made a panicked grab for some snacks and raced up the stairs. My daughter was slamming on lights ahead and I was cutting them out as we ran. No communication was needed by anyone; not even the toddlers. Nope. We all dashed up jumped in bed, hid the snacks and clicked the TV. We spent all night watching, snacking and scaring the holy snot out of each other. Sleep? It's for the weak. Besides, someone had to keep watch. heehee. We woke up this morning and went out to breakfast; just to make sure the world hadn't been destroyed during the night. My coffee and rye toast spoke volumes; our species survived another day.

Ahhhh good times.  A great way to end my vacation.
So the boys are on their way home, I am flipping between football games and horror movies. I just never learn.

Well, let's catch up soon; provided we survive the night(and) the dawn of the living dead; the primal, splintered predators and those people that lurk outside...

It's time to take the toddlers out... WHOSE turn is it?

Ohhhh no. Not mine.

Ella Sits Quietly

If you asked me as a youngin, I would have lied and said no. I don't believe in ghosts. It's rubbish. The spirit is what remains, yes. But only as a memory; shared or kept. Memories are your ghosts; right inside your tiny little head. Some are good and others not. You are frightened by a few, aren't you? It's not so hard to understand. We even talk to them, don't we? We laugh at ourselves for the nonsensical mutterings, be it in our cars or alone doing laundry; anywhere we are visited by a memory. 

I'll share a few memories with you. She was my life. She made breathing fun and exciting; like I couldn't wait for the next one. Ella.

When I met her, she was young and strong, her face and laughter lit up every room she entered. People wanted to be near her. She absently made you feel good; interesting and happy.  She didn't know she was beautiful and would deny it if you told her so; which I did every day. I asked her out countless times; begged would be okay; grovel might even apply once or twice. She would shrug and say "We'll see." I would feel my heart soar at the possibility. I wanted to hold her, even if just for a while.  At last she agreed and even then I didn't have her to myself, I had to share with friends.  It wasn't bad and I'm not complaining. She sat with me and we had quiet moments. I found myself giggling and smiling until my teeth were dry; my cheeks hurt.  When I left her off at her dorm, she took both my hands and looked right into my heart.  She took it from me and locked it away in hers.  I never felt so whole to be half of something so wonderful. I suddenly knew what the word forever was for.

When we married the word we heard most was; "Finally!" We didn't understand at first, but once explained to us, it was more endearing than imagined.  We were a perfect fit.  We enjoyed everything about each other.  I thought I loved her then. The years ahead would prove me absolutely wrong. Loving Ella was simply consuming and the one thing I wanted to always do.

Making love to her was like that "first time exhilaration" every time. I almost always fumbled with buttons on her blouse, trembling at the thought of her perfect breasts. I loved the taste of her skin; so sweet on my lips and tongue; and soft under my hands. She would take them and guide me, show me how to make her feel good.  Ella would close her eyes, whispering my name in the night and beg me make love to her. She would get lost in her passion and I relished watching every minute of her ecstasy. I loved how she bit her lip and smiled just before climaxing. I couldn't wait to feel the heat of her body and mine.  When she kissed and touched me, I never felt more loved, more manly, or desired.  I was all she wanted. Me.

Children came. Ella struggled with wanting to be a good mom which I found hilarious.  She couldn't be anything but. There was an insight, an ability to communicate and never give up; even when that seemed like the only option. She fought to keep them kids until the time was right; though it was often unpopular with our all-knowing teens. I was proud of her because I worked so much and had to be away. She took that blessing of a burden and succeeded with flying colors oftentimes alone.  Ella was amazing. I told her this countless times but she would offer a soft smile and wave it off "Perfectly flawed." she would say, rushing off to the next crisis, or doctor's appointment or rehearsal.

And during this not so simple life, she made mistakes. Don't get me wrong. We fought. Had some knock down drag outs. She could extrapolate a small problem in to a catastrophic event. She could turn a simple social misstep into a vengeful judgment of herself. She never forgot. It hindered her ability to forgive sometimes. And she beat herself up; her looks, her abilities, her very sense of self; allowing weaker people, who could only criticise, to influence her outlook... or is it in-look? This drove me insane. "They're only what they think of you" was her favorite line in a song but she couldn't follow that. It didn't matter. At the end of every day, I held her. I kissed her and told her I would love her tomorrow.

We were just celebrating the new beginning. Getting ready to marry our last child and expecting grand babies galore. We were giddy and proud.  Proud we had succeeded together; survived. Ella looked tired but satisfied. We still took walks and held hands.  She still wore me out in bed and she still loved nothing more than a good laugh. It cleansed her soul she always said. And every day I would tell her she was beautiful and I would love her tomorrow.     

When did the light begin to fade? I don't know, honestly. Worse still, I don't know why I didn't see it.  I know I missed her giggle more and more. I know that instead of the laugh lines she bragged about, she gazed sadly at the worry furrowing her brow. She moved less confidently but still never complained. No, Ella was too strong to complain or give worry to someone.  I wish just once she'd have been brave enough to be weak with me. I never knew she was ill, though I suspect she did. The diagnosis came a s a shock to only this half of our whole. I was devastated.  To put a timeline on the rest of our lives was crushing and unfair. We had made it through everything and were supposed to coast. It was why we never gave up or folded in.  We held on, believing the reward would be worth the work and now, they had just handed my wife, my best friend and love, a time limit on the fun she had worked so hard for, waited for. I cried for days and couldn't stand to not have her in my sight. I reached for her as if she might just blow away in the wind. I was afraid of being without her. 

I scolded God, hated Him in fact. And then when she introduced me to fragility and frailty, I scolded, hated even more. I slowed down to accommodate her less stable gait. She seemed to lose the desire to speak; laugh and for the first time, I realized she wasn't remembering. She didn't always reach for my hand and when she did, it was more for steadying not connection as it had always been. She looked through me sometimes. At last I heard the question I dreaded.  "Have we met?" Her voice was now unsure and small. 

"Yes, " I answered fighting back the tears. "I asked you out but you didn't answer me. Will you go out with me Ella?" 

She shrugged and said "We'll see."

 There were fewer smiles, less laughter. She died inside but her body refused to let go. I could not care for her anymore since she wandered and got lost or was frightened to be around things and people she didn't know; would never know again. I had to let strangers love my wife and watch from afar. My heart was crumbling.

But every day, I come. Every day I sit next to her and I relive our life. I share our memories; our ghosts, reminding her she is beautiful, that I will love her tomorrow and when I leave, I run as fast as my knobby old legs will carry me to our home a block away where I cry and beg for her to remember me once more. Smile for our life and our love. Laugh for our mistakes and our triumphs. But Ella sits quietly; a ghost. 


This one got me good. I cried most of the way through it so forgive my typos. One of my greatest fears is forgetting; the love, laughter and special times both good and bad that have made me who I am. I guess we all need a good cry once in a while. This was mine; a release of sorts for so many things going on in my tiny little world. Thanks for putting up with me and my snivels today. Pass the tissues please. Thank you for coming here and sharing. It's aways a pleasure to have you here.

When Company Comes To Dinner

I do want to thank you all for coming to sit at my table. It has been too long.  I hope you have the patience and state of mind to endure an old friend who wants to hear himself speak. The food I assure you will be distraction enough if you do not. So without further adieu;

I love you, Edmund as much as I can, I suppose. Well not in that faggy way. I am a man after all. Maybe it would be better to say that I hold much affection. I respect the silence while I rant on about my heart; my tortured, sad, heart; my lost loves and my disappointments.  There have been many you know. Many.Two stick out in my mind and I am lucky enough to have them here tonight as guests; Suzette and Alice. I am comfortable reminiscing in front of you Edmund as most times you pretend not to hear me. It has made our friendship unique and strong. 

When I think of you Suzette, I remember how your long hair cascaded down your back.  With a simple turn of your head and a flash of that wry little smile, I would melt inside. We were equal, you and I but I confess that sometimes I let you win out. You women are so uncertain and insecure you know.

Did you know that Edmund? Ha of course you did. You once told me during a discussion that they were not delicate creatures or playthings but equals.  

Well, you were my equal, Suzette. We sat and talked for hours about everything;  God, the power of corruption and how corruption is a nautral progression once in power. Hmmm Make you wonder about God? How has he been corrupted? How pure is the soul? Who knows for sure or gets to decide that and by the way, if you believe a lie, is it then true? Oh, excuse me, I tear up sometimes when I think of all we had. Wonderful for my mind you were. And to look at you? To hear those brilliant, defiant words spill from your mouth was like vintage wine from a priceless cask. Ha. Just listen to me would you? Do you want some more soup? No? Ah very well then. Allow me just a little more time with my Suzette.  

I thought we were forever. I wanted to spend the rest of my life getting to know each nook and cranny of your mind, body and spirit. And you always were spirited. Why, once I recall you hoisted a  vase right at my head calling me a "Fucking Psycho". I don't remember what we were tiffing about ... seems small now. A minute detail. But since we are no longer together, that is all I have. I must cherish those small details. The soft shape of your hips and legs, the way your hands wove through mine. We fit.

So imagine my shock when on that Sunday morning instead of making love, you simply huffed that you didn't want to see me anymore. I dare say my heart shattered. I followed you down the hall of that shitty little apartment you rented with the fake wood paneling and the baby shit colored carpet. It had gotten rather heated by that point. Imagine! Losing your everything in a simple breath? 

Edmund, can you? Everything. Forever.Happiness. Just skittering away like dried up dead leaves in the fall across an abandoned park where swings reach and cry out for children who are not there? Sad and lonely. I remember panicking and demanding an explanation... Oh yes, that was why you launched the vase. I was demanding answers. Remember Suzette? Your equal.  But then since you were so quick to give up on us, I saw ... less. Less than me. Much less. 

Do you agree Edmund? She was less? Oh don't give me that empty look. I do value your opinion. After all this time, how could I not?

Oh and my sweet Suzette! Let's not have a pout here. It was long ago, was it not? We sit here like adults, don't we? Eating a fine meal. I promise. I do my once-love, I will not hurt you anymore. Now just promise me the same. 

Well, you know it took me quite a bit to get through that mess of a heartbreak but then there was Alice. My sweet Alice. Oh she did light my fire. Didn't you Love? A cheers to you. Don't look away and play shy. I still taste the sweetness of your mouth. I can feel the soft warmth of your hands on my skin. I smell the sweat we made as you cried out to me, clung to me.  Oh the things you did say to me and drive me wild inside. I never knew such passion as with you , Alice. I had hoped the sexual fire would burn throughout your being and I looked but it was empty even deep inside. I mean, truths be told, you had an equally passionate temper and quite a flair for profanity and vulgarity but your mind? We couldn't come together. Alice, you were opinionated and weak at the same time. How do you do that? 

We must research that Edmund. Edmund? Cake? Don't you want any? I bought it down at the corner. They are such nice people there, don't you agree? Myra works a little magic with that pastry bag of hers. I think she has a thing for me. I find it cute. 

So it comes back to you Edmund. It always does. Oh Ladies. Don't be jealous. We have had our difference, our moments, but Edmund? He has been through it all with me. Right my dear friend? Why, you sat and listened while I told you of my horrible home life. You held my hand ~ not in that faggy way and coaxed me through indecision and heartbreak. You have talked me down from many a ledge. Once, you even had the courage to stand up to me; to tell me I am wrong at the risk of losing it all. 

Well, you did lose your head Edmund. Ha! Oh I don't mean to joke so cruelly, but if you hadn't threatened to go to the police after I confessed killing Suzette, we still might be able to have a conversation. A real one, not one I conjure up to your stiffened outer shell. I don't know why it was Suzette that sent you over. Not my mother? Not the little girls in the woods or the common whores in the back alleys? I didn't realize she was yours. She played us both, you know.  Me, her true love and you, her trophy mechanical husband? She couldn't leave you. Though now all is said and done and we can be civil. Right? But next time old man, wear a different suit to my table.  This one you've been wearing seems a bit; smudged. Is that chocolate? No? It looks like it. Dark rich decadent chocolate. 

Now, Alice, don't be so testy. After all, you made the soup; at least parts of you did. Oh, what a wit I am. You know, your passion and fight really made me consider keeping you a little longer. But then you just refused to shut it. Oh honestly Alice, you know ,you just kept screaming and crying and grabbing at me. It got so old. It made my eyes hurt and my brain itch. That's an uneasy feeling. I tired of you like a child with a new toy. You think it's the end all beat all, but really... it's just another toy. You outgrow it.You made it longer than most so be proud of that. Some never EVER made it to a dinner party.

Now, you all need to sit quietly here because I have company coming to dinner. I hope you all liked the meal. You were each an integral part of it. Please confess, isn't it fun that we can laugh together like this? Even after all we've been through? Now remember, quiet as church mice. The detectives will be here soon. 

Suzette? Darling, please hand me that brown bottle. No the squatty one. Well don't put your nose in there then, Silly. Of course it stinks. It's my just in case. If they won't eat or drink with me, then I may have to do it all alone. No. I won't go in to the station. Suzette. Please, you're getting a little hysterical. You've put your heart and soul, I guess ~ we never really did come to a conclusion on that ~ in to this meal. It will be unbeatable. Unforgettable. Now let me straighten my tie. Oh! Here they are early. No no. Sit down. And please put on a splash of rose water. You are getting a bit ripe with all this nervousness. Let me dish things and get started. Be quiet Suzette. It's not time for your debut yet. Close your blouse, your ribs are sticking out.

Hello? Detectives? Why yes. Yes I am. Please come in, won't you? I am so glad I have an opportunity to help you. I was deeply saddened by the news that my friend and good doctor, Edmund is missing. But you say that two other people ... Who? Ohhhh Alice? She's gone? Well, that doesn't surprise me. She's always been a spitfire, that one.  Edmund told me some of her wilder antics. Children can be a blessing and a curse can't they? But Suzette? Mmmm ... I find that a tough pill to swallow. Speaking of which, here let me take my little capsule here. Medicine for after dinner. Oh! Where are my manners? Why thank you, it does smell tasty, doesn't it? I had some dear friends help me throw it together.  Care to join me? I have more than enough. I always make plenty because as my mother used to beat into my brain: You never know when company comes to dinner.



I love this one. Yes I do. This is one where I simply sat down and wrote it straight through; about two hours top to bottom. I had been researching and just came to a point where I stopped looking and put it together. I love it when that happens. I like the one-sided narcisism, the yearning for companionship and arrogance. I think it alludes to the dialogue, connection, and personality of all "characters" smoothly. I enjoy the sophistication of not knowing exactly what is going on ... allowing it to unfold into something grotesque yet friendly. 

That is my definition of creepy.

So I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.

 I look forward to hearing from you and am glad we got to spend a little time together. Thanks for coming to see me.

I thought I'd give you the update on the toddlers. Why? Well, because it's funny and laughing is one of my favorite things to do.

First, my piglet. Winston is my ugly baby. I love this dog. He makes me crazy but I love him. So I felt bad when the vet informed me that he needed a dental. I didn't fight her on it because his breath is the reason so many believe in zombies. Yikes. I think that he is the Zombie Apocalypse Messiah, secretly scouring our cities chomping on the undead ultimately to save us. Or maybe he just eats trash. Well it's an all day affair so I dropped him off in the morning and took the call in the afternoon that he had to have seven teeth pulled. Seven. Guilt sat firmly in my lap. A short time later, I got the call that my piglet was in recovery and I could come and get him.  I zipped up and anxiously awaited the patient. He came out and I snorted right there in the office. He had Marty Feldman eyes and they were trying to see right through me. He had wobbly baby head and I think he could feel noises and smell colors. He sure looked like that was what he was trying to do. Once home, he insisted (jumped out of the car before I could help him) on walking on his own as if to say :

You sh'up. I can do-ish (remember: teeth extracted. He barks with a lisp and snores with a whistle now heehee) Nuffin wrong wif me. Or me. whoa. who is shaking the floor?"

and promptly crashed in to the motorcycle, fell off the steps to the garage, and trotted sideways: like his ass was racing his nose. Of course I didn't make him run to me three or four times laughing until tears ran down my leg because that would be mean. Mean Mommy! So it's been soft stuff and no toys or cookies for him. His sutures will dissolve and his will get his full yawn back soon, but for now, he just opens and closes his mouth like he forgot what he wanted to say.

And now let's briefly revisit a little statement I made; no cookies. Birdie is fine and is allowed to have cookies. I have a cookie jar with a favorite new treat in it: PBJ's ( they look like nutter butters wrapped in bacon ) Hmmmm... not a bad idea... but I digress.  While doting on my piglet, I have somewhat neglected the Nubian Princess. She decided to treat herself; to treats. And a lot of them. I would have never known had she not decided to share that (and said treats) with me. I had just put the piglet to bed~he had to be confined for a day or two while recovering from his trip to Sky-High Ville and sat down in the library.  I heard rustling and told her to quit --she's like a kid. You know it's bad so you don't even have to look really. You just scold. Well she popped up on the couch and in her mouth was a PBJ. She had that happy pant like "Just LOOK what I found!" So I took it from her and laughed.  she sulked and went away but not two seconds later, 'BOINK" there she was with ANOTHER one. She was even HAPPIER about this one because I guess now we EACH had one and could snack together. Awwww so nice. So I took it away and got off my lazy arse to see.

Almost a pound.

She ate almost a pound of bacon wrapped nutter butters. I sighed, put them up and patted her head.  Her ears went back and she winced: "OOOOO I"ma GEEEET it...." but I didn't. I just waited for Karma to come around.

It did.

She refused dinner. Winston ate mush and dribbled out the side of his lil mouth. She refused breakfast the next morning.  I figured the "choo choo" was on it's way.  It was; much like a speeding bullet train, barreling through her "over-treated" intestines.  She almost opened the door herself to get out there and make pudding in the grass. She was so sick. I could just hear her:

"OHHHH MYYYYY GAWWWWWD! MAAAAKE IT STOOOOP!!! STOP POOPING!"

Guess who doesn't want bacon wrapped nutter butters anymore?

it's not Winston.

So that's been my last couple of days. I've posted a video of Wee-man fighting his meds. ~heehee mean mommy.
Love my toddlers.
This is it you know, no more. NO MORE....

Winston Post-op

Hiya
As you can tell, I'm late this week for posting. I am hoping to get away next week, up to Promises, all by my not-so-lonesome.  That means that this week is full of rude, early hours but there is always a price to pay for having fun. Right?

I hope that you have all survived the awful devastation known as Sandy and her wicked younger sister: aftermath. We were extremely lucky in both PA and NJ with no property damage or power outages.  Not all of my friends were so lucky. But we are all "safe and sound" and busy rebuilding, refueling or rescheduling. Thanks so much for your kind thoughts and prayers. They are appreciated.

So let's catch up Sunday or so? that gives me time to get up and get settled for a few days of a Stephen King environment: light snows, cold weather, isolation and the woods...

OOOOOO I can feel it ... the creepies. Come and hold my hand. Let's see what monsters I can make up. heehee
See you soon.
Tess

stupidity

For the longest time she was convinced her name was Stupid, Idiot and Useless. If he was mad, a "God damn" or "fucking" became precursors to these poetic terms of endearment. Shannon was her name given by her mother. Underneath her thick raven black hair were eyes so blue they looked right through you and knew what you were thinking.  Maybe that was what scared him.  .

Her father. He WAS scared too. Shannon's mother had caused him pause with her smirk, her manipulation and those eyes but through years of drunken abuse and insults he had ruined her, made her pliable. Her abilities diminished. He killed her spririt long before he had to ditch her body. Travis  had been a big deal once. He had been feared in school; tall, strong, aggressive and confident. His career and life had been set in small town hero stone. He headed to college with all the back-slapping, loud mouthed, grinning money the recruiters could stuff in his pockets. He finished, then came home where he got his pick of the cheerleaders he'd already known and became a bigwig in town; taking his place as the ever-prom king. He'd drink to that; every night. No one seemed to mind. Hell, he rarely bought a drop. People loved to put it on their tab or on the house so they could talk over the old times and of course his future... right there in town. Oh it was all set and he was happy to live this life. Then he'd met Shannon's mother that night at the alumni game. She had turned his head so fast, he thought he'd gotten whiplash. She had black silk for hair that was cut short and dangled playfully around her face. She had amazing light eyes and a body that begged for attention from a man. "THIS man" he'd thought hungrily and put on his quiet country boy act that worked oh so well.

She was supposed to have been a boy; hence her name: Skyler. So day one set the tone for her short life. Her own father had been distant and aloof.She was the lead in plays, the star in her sports and top of her class. Whatever she touched or tried was wonderful, successful and she did it all in the hopes of seeing a glimmer of approval in her father's eyes. It would have been there brightly shining had she only been born with the correct plumbing. But she was hopeful Travis would be different.

He laughed at her jokes and told her she was pretty in that shy, toe in the dirt way.  That night she'd met him at the game, he'd taken a big swig of his ninth beer (something she wasn't aware of.  It became a joke to her later: "Love potion number nine.")  He was interested, listening to what she had to say and seeming to want to share with her. She let him seduce her but at a snail's pace. He was "about ready to explode" when she let him in to her bed.  She was good at everything but sex. At this, she was amazing. Travis became intoxicated by her body and the way they fit together. She seemed to enjoy it, but really chose to reward him for little thoughtful things and good behavior. It was manipulation on an intimate  but on a  grand scale.  He was already trapped when she announced she was going to have his baby. Skyler thought she had played the right card at the right time, but things began to change.

Not at first. No, it was romantic and sweet at first. Skye thought they just might be happy. It was all that she was looking for. He had finished his business degree, planning to settle at home anyway. He made the best of it and it was good. The baby came and they were cute; all of them.  But love potion number nine became ten  then twelve and an additional thrity every weekend while his words and resentment grew faster than baby Shannon. When Skye disappeared, Shannon waited for the truth to be told but it never happened. That was when she took it into her own hands.

She had been banished to her room once again and gladly so. Love potion number fifteen was taking a firm hold on him.  The slurring and the spitting had begun.

"Whass SIS?" he'd grumped over dinner.

"Pork chops."

"Taste like Hell. You better get good at sumpin else cuz you won't EVER be a chef, Stupid."

She shrugged and cut. The goat cheese and basil with roasted peppers peeked out from between two lightly browned chops. They were perfect. He was drunk.  She hoped dinner would end soon.

"Did you get your work done?"

"Yes."

"Pay da bills you idot?"

"Yes."

He scraped his fork, furious that she had succeeded today. She was as arrogant as her mother. Her eyes glared at him. Laughed at him. She would need to be taught a lesson just like Skyler.

"Laundry? I need my clothes clean. Ann- iss house? Issa shithole. You're useless." he tapped the table absently. The lesson would need to be soon he thought.

"Yes. Your work shirts are ironed and hanging in the closet." She closed her mouth over her fork and enjoyed the cheddar garlic mashed potatoes and the hate that burned on his face. She thought of the chocolate mousse she would not share with him.

He popped open another love potion and took too long of a drink. Foam belched out of the top.
"Aren't you just magnisifent." he sneered.

She shrugged and began to clear the table. "Supper is over." She thought, beginning to plan her evening. She was startled by his hand clamping down hard on her wrist.

"Magnisifent." he incorrectly hissed again.

She stopped and looked down hard. She felt it bubbling up but stymied it. He knew that look and that it would be wise to let her go. She twisted free and turned her head as if she were going to scold him like a child.

"I wouldn't." was all she said heading quietly to her room to read.

It began to get dark and he began to stumble around angrily. Nothing new.  She just had to wait until he passed out. Then she would clean up as she always did,. He shouted at her, whined at her dead mother, broke more glasses or lamps and swiped clear table tops with his wobbly arms.

Shannon sat in her room. Soon it would be better.  She listened at her door, smiling softly to hear his thick snoring. She went to her closet.  Her bag was packed. She had stashed enough money to get her far from town. She was eighteen so the search for her would be limited.  Besides, everyone knew what a son of a bitch Travis was.  They all knew Skye was murdered but without the body, without the blood evidence they had nothing. Shannon did not want to end up like her mother. She wistfully leaned against the window and watched the crescent moon grin at her through the trees. It was time.  She stepped out in to the hall and called to him. Nothing. She wandered down, beginning to clean up.  She swept and straightened.  The last thing she wanted was a scene like a struggle or conflict had occurred.  Then she went to the closet, removing the old kerosene heater. Shame she had forgotten to pay the heating bill. SO careless. The weather had cooled early (to her benefit) so the fire wouldn't seem out of place. The fuel would make sense. They needed the heat. He tripped in a stupor and the spill... well... stupid things happen. Tragedies.  She spilled it just a little and tipped it over. The heater wasn't even full.  Then she approached the passed out man on the couch to drag him over, drape his drunk sorry murderous body in the path of the accelerant and get this show on the road.

But he stirred. He woke. And he was pissed. He took a swing, connecting solidly with the side of her head. The room tilted, clanging like a church bell. Shannon reeled back, quickly trying to recover, scramble away. Travis charged at her, the two tumbling backwards. He sat above her, enfolding her narrow neck in his chumky rough hands, squeezing, panting above her as he had Skye. Shannon kicked and scratched. Her eyes getting hot, bulging out.  He thumped her head on the rug.  She lost consciousness. He checked and found a pulse though weak. "Dammit" he muttered, getting up. He pulled his suitcase and the money he'd found. He added it to his own stash hidden in the back of the cupboard.  He looked at the last of the supper dishes; a wonderful meal of delicious pork chops stuffed with cheese and herbs.  She would have made a wonderful chef. If she hadn't been so stupid, he would have simply let her go. Her mother had been just as dumb. And so they had been justly rewarded.

He collected his future and leaning in the doorway, struck a match to destroyed his past. Travis walked away letting his daughter's handiwork claim her. He patted his travel plans and turned carelessly away

"See ya Stupid."

The smoke was heavy and the fire began to spread quickly.  Shannon wasn't sure she had the strength to get up, but hate is a powerful motivator.  Crawling out the back, she let it burn. Through the roar of the flames, she heard the firetrucks. They were a little earlier than she'd have hoped but it didn't matter.  Stupid had found the plane ticket, discovered his luggage and the wad of money in the kitchen. Useless had put it all together, understanding it had become a simple race to destruction. The idiot had called the police and enlisted their help. They were going to pull him over soon.

Stupidity is relative.



Not my favorite but not too bad all things considered. I wanted to do something else with this but just couldn't make it work.  Sometimes I just have to let them go and move on. I am glad to see you nonetheless. We'll giggle and point at this one. Stuck with Hurricane Sandy and the perfect storm. Thanks for all the concerned/well wishes. See you soon. Keep dry. :)

Riding out the storm. So far, so good. We've got a couple of generators, water, candles, flashlights, games, and enough food to feed an army. The toddlers are freaking out, refusing to let me out of their sight. Birdie insists on hiding under everything, peering suspiciouly from under blankets, furniture... you name it. And Winston just looks out the window, leaves a fresh nose print and implores me with those eyes to make it less scary outside. Poor buddy. It's starting to get more aggressive here. We are getting pelted pretty good with rain and the wind is definitely howling but no ark yet. It's supposed to hit land soon. Then the fun really starts.

Thank you all for checking up on me.  Your texts and emails have been hilarious and soothing. My hope is that we keep power.  For those of you locally along for the ride, be safe, keep in touch. For all my "outer" pals, I'll be sure to let you know what's going on. No worries. 

Love and dry hugs.

Tess

An instant

My daughter and I have it pretty good, all things considered. I fuss over her and she rolls her eyes or gives me the "Mooooooom!" with an exasperated swat, but we usually smile and know... it's not too bad between us. She is convinced I'm running her life and I'm pretty sure she's right. We've had a tough go of it lately with boys and school and ... the life and drama of a teen. I can hear you sighing and nodding. But today? It wasn't fun. It wasn't cute.

My daughter and I went for a run (she is training for her swim team and I am just out there) and took a different route this morning. We were on our way back, having a small stretch of a "busier" road before ducking back into our usual more comfortable neighborhood.

The woman in the silver car didn't stop at the side street before turning left, never even looked. She didn't see the other car until she was at his passenger door. The black car, on the main road, juked to get out of the way but was unable. She nailed him good.  There was that sound; you know? The one where metal crunches and rattles the fillings in your teeth? Fiberglass pops and cracks and gives you that rush of an itch/tingle that makes you shudder? Well, she hit him so hard she spun him. As he came around, trying to regain, he overcompensated and headed right for us. Me and my daughter.

 I saw it coming and began to run to get out of its path. I was calling her. "C'mon Maddie." I yelled, glancing over my shoulder thinking she would be right there. That's where she WAS. Right there. Right beside me,  but now she wasn't.  My daughter froze. She was just watching it as if it were a tv show. I saw this car sliding toward us; a screaming hulk of stinky rubber and leaking fluids. I turned to grab her, yelling louder "MADDIE". She tripped and fell. The car kept coming. I ran back to her, picked her up and dragged/carried her. "HURRY MADDIE! WE'VE GOTTA MOOOOVE!"

I can tell you that I have never been so frightened for my baby girl. I don't want to ever feel that way again. There was a tightness in my gut and a panic that just consumed me. I know what I did, I carried my daughter out of the way. But I don't remember doing it and when I DO try to recall, I get foggy and want to cry or throw up.  I saw the black car and can tell you everything about it. What it looked like, that there was a shiny silver grill that looked like an angry mouth. The hood was a little sun faded with a crease down the length and the driver was young.  I think he wanted to scream when he saw us; really saw us. I felt small in front of that car; small and frail.  I think I've been through a box of tissues just writing this. We couldn't stop holding each other.

"I'm sorry Honey. I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you were with me. Right there with me."

"Mom. I froze. I just waited for it to move away. I couldn't move Mom. It was so fast and slow at the same time."

More tears. Then and now.

The black car stopped and he got out. A kid. "Holy shit! Are you okay? She never stopped! She never fucking stopped. Oh my GOD Are you all right?"

I assured him we were. We all waited for the police. We spoke and then my daughter and I walked home. No great pace, no try outs or waistlines to worry about; just holding hands. I cried terrified relieved tears. She hugged me as tight as she could and told me she was okay. When we got home, she went to her room and quietly closed the door.

But I keep checking on her. My mind has tried to repaint it: a broken little girl distorted, twisted under the weight and speed of the car.  My ears strain to hear the slam of her body against the metal; angry mouth~ if I close my eyes I am forced to see what could have been. I don't like that one bit. I reach for her and brush her hair away. She doesn't pull back or roll her eyes. She smiles softly and lets me. I know in a few days we will be back to our roles of teen vs. mom but for now? I need this. I need her to be my baby and I think she wants to.

Hug them. Tell them you love them. It will only take an instant.

Hi Guys.
I'm just getting back from vacation and need a little more time to get my ducks in line. I hope you had a great week. I've gotten to relax and laugh a lot. Can it be better? I submit it can not. Let's try to catch up mmm... I dunno... late this week? I have a ton of catching up to do.

Thanks for all the laughs and well-wishes. It was fabulous.
Warm hugs,
Tess

Well I'm getting ready for a vacation as I said before (much MUCH needed). I can't wait to spoil myself a little with some wonderful friends in a foreign place basking in the warm sun. Ahhh life is about to be good. VERY GOOD. But there is always a price to pay. THIS week? I'm running like a maniac both at work and at home. My insomnia is working overtime and I have enough bags under my eyes to go to Europe for a month! I'm so tired I could cry.

Monday, I was waiting on some meds and stuff. Instead of sitting around stewing about all the work I would have to do, I came home to accomplish the bulk of the housework piling up on my "to do" list. I knew Cheech was having the same kind of week, so I thought I'd be a super wife and mow the lawn. I finagled my schedule a little and headed out to our little barn to fire up the tractor. God bless Bess.

This tractor and I have a history; spotty at best. There was the time I was driving it and it broke; not just broke... caught FIRE broke. Ooopsie. Then there was the time the  mice built a home in the engine and it broke. They chewed some belts.. Oopsie.( The mice ran over my foot as I fired it up and I screamed like a banshee having anesthesia-free dental work done but that is beside the point.) We do not meld ... Tractor and I; no not normally. Bad things happen.

But today was not a normal day. I went out and stood at the door to the barn, needing to fiddle with the latch to get in. I had a visitor; a really pissed off yellow jacket. He buzzed me, dive bombed my head and threatened me with nasty hovering. Evil hovering.  Of course I hissed and ran away into our woods; whimpering like a wounded pup. I waited until the tears stopped and came over again. Repeat the above actions... TWICE MORE. Each time I had the latch a little more open so at last, I got in and quickly yanked the door shut. I stood there in the dark, mashing the door as if I was trying to keep out a cavalry. My heart was pounding like I'd just pulled off a jewel heist. I waited, foolishly thinking if I was quiet, they wouldn't build a wall of stingers outside the door to ambush me as I emerged. But I couldn't be certain. No I could not. So I cautiously began to clean off the tractor, not wanting to find any mice. (As much as I am afraid of them, I still wouldn't want to grind one up in the motor) Eww. I sat down and pushed the throttle up. I needed this to work for my escape. I turned the key. Bess grumbled but refused to turn over. Ohhh no. I let go and went again, rubbing her hood and cooing softly.

"Let's go for a drive Gorgeous. Jes you an me. It's a pretty day...."

 THIS time I got a kick and a fart but nothing. I thought I heard the tapping of a zillion poison filled needled backsides at the door as if to  viciously whisper:

"We knoooow you're in therrrrre... We can wait!"

Ahhh Please PLEASE turn over or at least belch enough carbon monoxide to make the slaughter painless. They're coming! I can HEAR THEM! PLEASEpleasepleasepleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase...

guck-gu-gu-grrrrrr_RRRRRRRR!

YES SWEET VICTORY IS MINE! I LOVE YOU BESS!

I assumed a hunched racing position and slammed Ole Bess into gear. R is for run. ;) I let off the clutch and she jerked awake. I was going to escape. Triumphantly, I burst from the barn backwards and zoomed down the ramp spinning the non-power steering wheel as hard as I could to avoid the tree that sat precariously close to the ramp.
 Bess screeched and whined. "WHAT THE HEEEEEEELLL? I thought we were going for a little riiiiiiiide!?"

GOT IT. I squished the clutch, like steppin on a plum, and smacked it into gear. Not first. Oh no. Not fourth. Forget you Buddy. Sixth. I almost flipped myself off the back of the damn thing! Are ya picturing that?? It makes me giggle even now, me and my metallic bronco; Bess. So I escaped the evil yellow jackets and mowed the lawn. I hummed "I'm Free" just for shiggles.

When all was said and done, I of course had to put Bess back. I looked for an ominous shadowy swarm but there was none. The coast was clear. I chuga-chugged it back to the barn feeling good about what I'd done. Did I mention the ramp? Did I mention that Bess is a little stubborn in the brake department? No? Well I can take that time now.

She stumbled over the ramp, biting some of the foundation as we headed in. She tried to pitch me sideways which would be... bad. The ramp is about two feet off the ground. Then as I coaxed her in, she got rammy and took a little run at the back wall. No big deal except I didn't know her brakes were.... light? airy? failing? So I almost smashed that green lil muthah right out the back side. Picture THAT folks!

You know in the back of your minds that your thinking the same thing: Is that where the bees' nest is? Sure thing it is. sigh. BUT crisis averted. I shut 'er down and waited there in the dark again. Hearing no hateful, venomous carving on the outer door,  I bolted; ran all the way to the house whining softly like a broken fire truck...

"eeeeEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE!"

It rained today. You can't even tell how I suffered.

Dammit.

Just a quickie. I had to laugh at myself. I hope you smiled too. Until next time, thanks for coming over. It's nice to have someone to laugh with.

Dug Up

The basement was always damp. Being near the water, we assumed it was the price to pay for our piece of Heaven on Earth. It was our new beginning. We were trying to rebuild our friendship, our life, our marriage and this was a grand place to start. We decided to leave the ugly, mistake riddled past behind and bury it. We could start over. It wasn't until we wanted to change the look of things that we got socked with it. Oh they would have to dig and restructure and fix our Heaven. We foolishly thought it would be better. After all, everything needs work. We, more than most, knew that and for a while it was. It was drier, more quiet, peaceful and confirmed that we had done the right thing.  We just didn't know what we'd dug up.

It began simply enough; with little noises, misplaced shadows. It's funny to me now when I think back how the warning signs were there; subtle as a whisper. I remember my mother's silver watch disappearing from its green velvet pouch inside my drawer and showing up more than a month later on the top shelf of my closet, draped neatly over the wire rack where I conveniently kept nothing. I smiled at the playful trick my husband must have played on me and even said aloud "Very funny."

There were the games with the faucets;.They would turn on and run at their discretion. I would simply sigh and blame mine or my husband's carelessness, forgetting that we had not been in that end of the house for a day or more. Things shifted around. Cords for the lamps? Often unplugged and draped in to the middle of the room. My phone disappeared and despite the fervor to find it, it was discovered two days later laying in the middle of the coffee table. The lone item in the center. I shook my head and laughed at the mischief. Rarely was I frightened or upset. Once when I lay on the couch, staring into the night, wishing I didn't suffer from insomnia, the television came on; no channels, just snow, which is unusual because our system defaults to one. I stood and watched it for a while then said quietly. "That is not nice. You scared me."

The tv clicked off while the remotes remained on the table.

I had kind of given in to the idea of having extra tenants, certain I could talk myself out of  the eeriness most days. At night, it became more difficult.  Maybe it was trying to get my attention,. Maybe there was more than one and I was sent a warning? I guess it doesn't matter now. My husband, Jake, never believed or experienced much. He was at work a lot. I noticed stresses in our newly created utopia. I seemed to be the only one in it. He was away more and more. His tone with me was sharp and impatient. He would sit and watch me but when I tried to speak with him, even about the most simple things, he simply became irritated and angry; leaving with sharp hurtful words and a disgusted grunt. For a day. Maybe more. I knew we were failing.

It began in October. The real fun.

Jake was away again  on business and I indulged myself as I always did with snacks in bed, my dogs and scary movies. At last I felt the warm coaxing of sleep and snuggled down for the night. I enjoyed  the comfort of the dogs and their soft breathing. I was soothed by my exhaustion and welcomed rest.

There was a scraping like metal on metal that jarred me; like the front window being opened. I sat up and looked around, adjusting to the darkness and shadowy furniture. I strained my ears, hearing my heart and own breath  thundering in my ears.  A shuffle came from downstairs in the family room.  I shook the groggy cobwebs from my head and noticed the dogs had not stirred. They were my miniature alarm system, since Jake was away, yet they happily chased rabbits and chuffed in their own undisturbed dreams.  I thought I had simply frightened myself with a nightmare. I laid back down and closed my eyes. Sleep reluctantly crept up and revisited.

I don't know how long it had been but the dogs woke me and brought real fear. They sat up growling and snarling.  They stared at the door but would not move. They smacked at the blankets with their paws and moved in defensive circles. I saw nothing. I could hear the same. Getting up, I slipped in to my robe and pocketed my phone. I quietly moved to the edge of the hall and looked down over the balcony into my family room. Empty. But the curtain shifted, waving to me. I had closed all the windows before I retired. This was not possible. I drummed my fingers on the banister and decided peace of mind could only be achieved with it's closing.  I pushed the curtain back and gave the window a shove. A laugh echoed at the back of my neck,causing me to spin. I froze.

Standing in front of me was a tall man. His eyes were dark and hollow. His skin had a greyish hue and the smell of him was that of sour mud. He leaned in close to me and grinned. His teeth seemed too long and were stained; broken. I gasped and ran from him, flying down the hall and up the stairs.  I fumbled with my phone, trying to dial my husband for help.  I reached my room and slammed the door, flipping the lock and jumped on my bed.  The dogs were quickly on me, sniffing, licking all in reassurance. I heard the steps coming down the hall and saw the handle turn.  Receiving resistance, it stopped.  There was a light scratching and another laugh. Then silence.

We all cowered for the remainder of the night.

Each night after that was progressively worse; a horrible game of hide and seek. He would make a loud noise to ensure I was paying attention then he would wait for me to come out to find him.  He would approach me, sometimes as if to scratch, shove or attempt to strike with more force but I always ran from him.  His chase was slow and methodical. He refused to run up the stairs, choosing instead to contort and crawl with his back low and flat and his legs and arms outstretched like a spider. He would stop at my door and tap, laughing at my fear. Then he began to come in, standing at the foot of my bed. He just kept getting closer to me; enthralled with my terror.  During the day, I did the research I should,  I looked at the local history and searched crime logs. I found very little; a man had disappeared in the late 1800's leaving a young wife who left the area not long after. His name was Joshua Lambert. It was unremarkable. and no other listings of violence or tragedy seemed to dog the property or even the area. I contacted various paranormal societies but more often than not, they seemed like scam artists.  I had the house blessed and conducted certain cleansing rituals and although these things worked for short periods of time, they were never pemranent solutions. He stayed with me.

The last night I lived in the house began as so many others; the sound of metal on metal. My eyes slammed open and my heart began to pound. I heard footsteps moving along the wood foyer and up the stairs. I saw his shadow, darker than the night, come in to my room. I heard his soft maniacal laughter and opened my eyes to see him. He stood at the foot of my bed and grinned. My blood ran cold. He leaned down and slowly sat on the edge. I pulled the covers up and in the softest shakiest voice I could find told him to leave me alone.

He smiled and in a voice that was choked with water, wreaking of  decay he bubbled. "No. You belong with me."

"You need to move on. You don't live here anymore. I do now. " I said hearing my own bones rattling under my goose bumbed flesh

"You belong here with me." he repeated and flashed his grin.

I felt nausea begin to burn inside me. "No I am alive. You are dead."

"Not for long." and he began to crawl  up the sheets toward me, his laughter seeming to steal the scream I so wanted to release.  I closed  my eyes and prayed for a swift end. I wanted Jake to save me. In my head I begged for that. There was a squeak as the front door opened. I heard footsteps wander down the hall and slowly begin up the steps.  My prayer had been answered. Jake was home to save me; to save us It would all be okay. My ghostly assailant seemed bewildered by the noise and pulled away, rushing to become nothing more than a darker shadow in the corner. Relief flooded my veins; a smile crept over my mouth.  My knight appeared in the doorway and looked at me. He came around to his side of the bed and leaned over me. I couldn't wait to feel the reassurance of his arms. To hear him whisper my name and hold me tight.

I felt his hands around my throat and his weight on my chest.  My lungs burned and begged for help. My eyes began to feel tight inside my skull. He squeezed my neck and sneered my name with disdain. He shifted his body  to kneel on my chest. Panic flared in my belly. My brain cried out for air. My heart sobbed and stopped.

The laughter tickled my ears like an autumn breeze. I glanced around to see the man standing in the corner; smiling as always. He moved toward me and I pulled away curling up on the bed.

"Don't." I choked.

"I can't hurt you... any worse." he smiled.

The tears came. Well, I guess the feeling that comes with tears; the heaviness, the tightness and the hollowness. Disbelief replaced sorrow.

"What do I do?"

He raised his hand and tilted his head sadly. "come with me."

"I'm afraid." I squeaked childishly.

"There is no more of that. You can come with me. " He said again. His voice somehow sounded more clear to me than before, less offensive. He stepped forward and I saw more distinct features; brown eyes, a thin face, dark curly hair. "It will be easier if you do."

"Why?"

"Why what?" he asked.

"What's happened?"

"You are dead with me."

"Where am I? Is this Heaven? Purgatory? Hell?"

"None of those things. This is ... "

And there was movement. Jake came in and sat down on my side of the bed. He pulled up my phone and called his cell. I heard it ring. He answered it and set them together ... as if we were talking.  He packed some of my things and my purse into a bag and put it into the trunk. I saw all of this as if I was looking though a dirty window. His shoes were caked with mud. It smelled sour and rotten. Like the old basement.

"Where am I?"

The man turned and gave me a sad smile. "With me now. I will take care of you."It was a soft voice now. It contained a gentleness.

"No. Where am I?"

"Ahhhh ... where I used to be.."

"What do I do."

"Stay. Until you too are dug up." he said quietly and left me to take in the words. He walked down the hall and waited at the top of the steps.

I slowly followed him. He raised his hand once more.  I took it. 

And we will wait.



And a happy Sunday to you. With all the construction we've had done on Promises and with my favorite season getting in to full swing, I had to write this. Most of you know I've had some strange things happen up there and with the history... it's understandable. I hope you enjoyed the twist. I did. This piece began as something else entirely and it is in fact three months old. Well, I hope you had a good time while you were here. I did. You know I miss your company. I am heading for a warm sexy vacation soon. It's been a long haul. I'm looking forward to it. Hope to see you soon. Thank you for comeing nd sharing this with me.