Monday, December 30, 2013

TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE (first installment)

This is a work of "fan fiction" based on the novel, "Lost Souls" by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative liscense is taken in including them in this story. 

No harm is intended toward author, muscians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblence.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Summary:   One is dark.
                      One is light.
                      Brought together by evil
                      and prejudice, they struggle
                      to make sense of their love and
                      their place in the world.

                                              TWO SOULS:   INTO THE FIRE

Cast of Characters:

Ghost.........................21 year old psychic, pale skin, straight, long blond hair, sky blue eyes, thin, about 5'8". Lead singer of "Lost Souls?". Modern day hippie. Boyfriend of Steve Finn.


Steve Finn.................22 year old rebel, black, shoulder length, curly hair, 6' tall, thin, but muscular, dark brown eyes. Guitar player and singer of "Lost Souls?". Boyfriend of Ghost.

Ms. Deliverance........Ghost's Grandmother, deceased. Was an herbalist, some psychic abilities, thought of as a kook or a witch.

Kinsey........................Owner of the Sacred Yew, Missing Mile, North Carolina's only club. 65 years old, 6'1" tall, salt and pepper hair worn in short, low ponytail. Friend and mentor to Steve and Ghost.

Terry...........................40 years old, blond wavy hair below ears, 5'10", owner of the Whirling Disc" record shop. Never quit being a true hippie. Friend of everyone, has a band called "Gumbo", drummer for "Lost Souls?" as needed.

R.J...............................24 years old, brown straight hair, below ears, with bangs. Black frame glasses, shy 5'7". Bass player for "Lost Souls?" and "Gumbo". Friend since childhood of Steve, and later Ghost.

Trevor...........................6'2", thin, long to the waist, straight, ginger hair. Comic book creator and illustrator. Owner of the murder house. Very shy. Boyfriend of Zach. A newcomer to Missing Mile, NC (this character was in the book "Drawing Blood" by Poppy Z. Brite. Same disclaimer applies)

Zach..............................5'6", dark, crazy curly hair, nerdy, glasses. Boyfriend of Trevor. Computer hacker. Singer for Terry's band "Gumbo". Newcomer to Missing Mile, NC from New Orleans, Louisiana. (this character was in the book "Drawing Blood" by Poppy Z. Brite. Same disclaimer applies)

Christian........................Very tall, thin pale, mysterious. A vampire from New Orleans. Worked for a while at Kinsey's club as bartender.

Nothing...........................15 years old, 1/2 human, 1/2 vampire. When born, Christian delivered him, then took him to another state and left him on a couple's doorstep. They kept him. Dark, shaggy hair, searching for who he really is. Comes to Missing Mile, NC because he likes "Lost Souls?" music, and stalks Ghost.

Zilla, Twig, & Molochai...Vampires who befriend Nothing, Nothing's father is Zilla.

Maxey..............................Singer, guitar player of a band in Los Angeles, CA. Tall, dark hair. Falls in love with Ghost, then trys to enslave him.

Miz Caitlin.......................Herbalist and friend of Ghost and Steve. Longtime friend of Ms. Deliverance.

Man & Woman of the Mountains.....Knew Ghost and his Grandmother years ago.

Ann...................................Steve's former girlfriend, deceased.

Linda................................Steve's sister

Lisa...................................Steve's sister

Bill.....................................Lisa's husband

Stevie.................................Linda's son

Mandy................................Linda's daughter

Melody................................Ghost's sister

                                                CHAPTER ONE

It was early afternoon at the Sacred Yew. Ghost and Steve had just finished their sound check and rehearsal for that night's show. It had gone pretty good, and a big crowd of Club Kids, as they were known, were expected. Whenever Lost Souls? played at the Yew, Kinsey, the owner and bartender of the club, could always count on the kids of the night to show up. Lost Souls? was practically a legend in Missing Mile, North Carolina. This is where Steve and Ghost had first began their band. Just the two of them. Kinsey had known both boys since they were Club Kids themselves, actually even before that. Growing up in Missing Mile, everybody knew everybody and everybody's business.

Kinsey had been very busy getting his bar ready for the night's opening. However, he had a problem. He was dangerously low on supplies. He kept a fully stocked bar, including sodas for the minors. He also provided a few foods to snack on, such as sandwiches and homemade soup. But, things had gotten backed up the last few days, and Kinsey hadn't had time to go shopping for supplies. The nearest grocery was half an hour away. He was pondering how he was going to make it all come together in just a few hours, when he had an idea. He mentally, slapped his forehead. Why hadn't he thought of it before. There were two perfectly fine young men with a car right in front of him, Steve and Ghost.

They'd always been happy to lend a hand around the place. They always felt grateful to Kinsey for giving them a place to learn the ropes and practice their music.

"Hmm," he thought, "I'm gonna ask Steve and Ghost to run over to the grocery for me."

At the moment, Steve was just hanging out by the pool table, knocking balls around, and Ghost was sitting on the floor by the stage, writing on the wall again with his markers. Damned if he knew why he let Ghost deface his bar like that, but it was kind of cool, in it's own way. The kids had all taken to it and added their musings to the wall, too, and called it their own. But, it was Ghost who'd started it all, late one night when he and Steve were just starting out. They were both really too young to even be in a bar, but Ghost had thought of some new lyrics for a song they were working on and couldn't find a piece of paper handy.

He always had a couple of markers stuck in his jacket pockets, so he pulled them out - sky blue and red, and wrote the words to the song on the blank wall so he wouldn't forget. After that, it just became a habit of his. Everyone else loved reading whatever he wrote next. Usually, it was the first thing the kids did when they got the wall. Ghost wrote on it every day, something new, something bizarre, an interesting word or two, lyrics...a sort of journal entry on his day. It was pretty amazing, actually. Over the years the wall was pretty much covered. He had started a second wall awhile back, and this was the one he was working on now.

"Well," Kinsey thought to himself, "it encourages the kids to read at least. That's beginning to be a lost art these days, what with texting, abbreviated letters for words and such."

He shook his head, "Enough wool gathering," he said, "back to the business at hand."

"Hey, Steve, c'mere a minute," Kinsey hollered over toward the game room. 

Steve took one last shot at the table and ambled over to the bar. He was wearing his usual get leather jacket and tight jeans. His dark hair ruffled out in crazy whorls and spikes, untameable.

Kinsey had known Steve since he was a little kid. He'd had a pretty rotten childhood, but he'd managed to turn out all right. A seemingly dangerous heartbreaker on the outside, but full of angst and emotion he barely kept hidden on the inside...a good guy at heart.

"Hey, Kinsey, what's up?" Steve asked, as he neared the bar.

"I need a favor from you and Ghost. Think y'all are up for the challenge?"

"Uhh...sure, Kinsey, guess so. What 'cha need?" Steve asked.

"Well, I'm really low on supplies for tonight and I'd like for you and Ghost to go over to the big grocery and pick up some things. I'd do it myself, but I'm swamped here. What do ya say?"

Steve was about to quickly agree to the task, then looked over at Ghost and heaved a sigh. "You want me and Ghost to go shopping for ya?" He looked a little hesitant at the thought.

"Yeah, Steve, ya got a problem with that? If so, never mind, just thought if y'all had some free time this afternoon...", Kinsey's voice faded off, but he gave a look that said in essence - you know you kinda owe me, and I know you're gonna do it.

Steve sighed again and nodded assent. "Ok, but when exactly do you need the stuff, Kinsey, 'cause if we leave now, it'll be hours till we get back, and we still gotta get ready for tonight."

"Jesus, Steve, how long do you think it takes to get a few supplies... thirty minutes up there, thirty minutes back, and maybe an hour in the store. But probably not that long with the way you drive," Kinsey said.

"Ok, ok," Steve threw up his hands in mock defeat. "But, really, don't expect us back any time soon, ok?"

"And why the hell not, Steve? What excuse would you have for taking all day for a simple errand, huh?"

Kinsey was getting exasperated at Steve's reluctance now. Maybe he should have never brought it up, but Steve asked him a question then, and Kinsey struggled for an empathetic reply.

"Have you ever been shopping with Ghost, Kinsey? Have you?" Steve implored.

Kinsey took a second to respond, wondering what exactly Steve was getting at. "No, can't say that I have, why?"

Steve rolled his eyes. He then started in on a long monologue, while Kinsey just listened, sort of dumbfounded at the rush of words coming at him from Steve. At first he thought to interrupt him, after all he was in a hurry for his supplies, but couldn't get a word in. Despite himself, he got interested in hearing all about how Steve and Ghost did their shopping. It was a completely new look at the dynamics of those two that he'd never taken the time to see before, and Steve seemed so eager to talk to someone about his feelings on the subject.

Kinsey almost laughed at the earnestness of this Steve he thought he knew, but evidently didn't, and all because of the word, shopping, that brought it all forth. He caught himself in time, though, and swallowed his almost formed laugh. He was being bombarded by fact after fact, incidents of pain, caring, and frustration, and It went on and on. Kinsey was helpless to stop the words...didn't want to  now anyway.

To be continued......check back often for added entries!

Peace, Love, & Writing!



Wednesday, December 25, 2013


This incident happened a few years ago. It was on Christmas Eve, if I remember correctly. The unlikely place was the grocery store.

I'd gone to the store to get some last minute items. The store was crowded, as they were to close early that night. I was over in the produce section. I kept noticing a woman that was there by me. She was shorter than me, and had on a beige coat, a scarf, and glasses. Her hair was light brown, going gray, and it was messy. She also had a slight disability in her speech and demeanor.

I can't remember the exact conversation, but it was about the fruits and vegetables, and also about the crowds and Christmas...things like that. Just a normal verbal exchange between strangers at a grocery store.

It was a little hard to understand her, but she was nice and I talked to her for a bit. Then I went on with my shopping. However, everywhere I went in the store, this woman would be there, too. I didn't see her come up the aisle, and I don't think she had a basket, but there she'd be, still wanting to talk.

This went on the whole time I was there. I kept getting this really strong feeling...and I kept getting the thought of angels. No real reason I should be thinking of angels at that time, though, but got the sense that this woman was maybe an angel. I couldn't shake the feeling, it just kept getting stronger.

Well, I kept talking to her, as everywhere I went in the store she would be there right beside me. Then I seemed to get an inkling, or revelation of why this was happening.

This was a test...a test to see if I was perceptive and could recognize what was going on, and of my compassion and empathy for those less fortunate with disabilities, by how I responded and treated this woman. There was definitely some kind of reason for this to be going on...I knew that then.

Well, in the end I went to check out my groceries and I said goodbye to her. Never saw her again, but she will remain in my memories of that night! Now I don't know for sure if angels appear as regular people at random times or for what reasons, but in my mind, this is what it was.

Peace, Love, & Angels

Tuesday, December 17, 2013


My ear was itching in that deep down, hard to reach place. I tried for several days to scratch it by trial and error. Sticking my finger in there, jiggling it around did not help. Doing that thing with my tongue, scratching my throat did not help. Carefully inserting a cotton swab a little ways in did not work either. I tried flushing it out with warm water, then suctioning it out. This just made it worse. Now every sound was muffled, and the itch was still there.

There was no relief. Itching day and night was taking it's toll on me. Lack of sleep, and unable to concentrate on daily activities caused me to call in sick to my place of employment on more than one occasion as the days and weeks went by.

I didn't want to, but I made an appointment with the ear, nose, and throat doctor. The exam, which included tiny lights being shone down my ear canal, and small wire probing instruments poked down inside, turned up no clear cut diagnosis. I was sent home with only some ear drops.

After one day of using the drops, I noticed a change. The itching was barely noticeable now, but very faintly I could hear music. Even when in the silence of my house, I could hear snippets of songs, one after the other. Day by day the music became louder until it was a perfect volume.

I was able to shake my head, and the music would change to another song like magic. It was very strange, but at least it was not the infernal itching. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it, this radio in my head...turn my head, change the station, as often as I wanted.

All kinds of music was represented. I'd go about my business, at home or work, walking down the sidewalk, or shopping and be listening to a soundtrack to my days. Lucky for me, it would stop when I went to bed, so that was appreciated.

I had no need of my I-Pod anymore. I didn't even feel embarrassed when I banged my head, or did a sudden hip-hop move in the grocery store. I even showed some people waiting at the bus stop my awesome ballet pirouettes.  Most people smiled along with me. A few tried some dance moves themselves, but I knew they couldn't hear my music. They had their earbuds plugged into their own ears. Mine was internal, organic, awesome.

Word got around soon enough. I even had an interview that was broadcast on local television. Did that make me a celebrity? I think it did. After all, I sang and danced on camera, and now was recognized everywhere I went.

I did have one strange phone call, though. It was from a travelling troupe of performers. Their talent scout asked if I wanted to tour the fifty states with their "Amazing Freak Show". I would be billed as "The Woman Who Hears Music In Her Head". They promised a nice paycheck, a giant poster of me, smiling, free carnival rides, and all the cotton candy I could ever want.

I reluctantly had to turn them down. To be honest, after a year of constant music, I was beginning to be annoyed. I mean, the same playlist was on a thousand song replay. After I'd heard them three hundred sixty five days in a row, it was getting to me...and not in a good way. My dancing was becoming jerky, and I was forgetting the words to songs. More and more I'd find myself blocking out whole genres of music.

It happened gradually. I began to feel the tiny tickles of the itch coming back. After about a month, it was in full force again, and the music had completely stopped. The itching was much worse this time, so I made another doctor appointment. This time, to my relief, the doctor made a definite diagnosis.

As he reached into my ear with his long tweezers, he pulled out an object, putting it on a paper covered tray in front of me. I recoiled in horror at the sight of it.

"What in hell is that?" I managed to ask.

"You have had a bad case of Heliocoverpa zea...earworms."


*earworm...a catchy piece of music that continually repeats through a person's mind.

*Heliocoverpa zea...the larva of the moth commonly known as corn earworm.

Peace, Love, & Music 

Tuesday, December 10, 2013


When I was a kid, Sunday morning sermons were a bit boring to me. Oh, I liked Sunday school just fine. We got to do crafts, sing kid type Bible songs, and had a small book that had stories geared to a child's understanding. There was usually a snack of cookies and kool-aid, also. It was fun to visit with your friends and show off your Sunday best clothes.

After a short break, we'd meet up with our parents, while everyone filed into the main sanctuary of the church. If allowed, friends would get to sit together. However, we'd be admonished to be on our best behavior. Unruly giggling, talking, or kicking the pew in front of us were met with a hasty removal by a parent to the outer foyer, or even outside, where we'd be reprimanded. We may or may not be brought back inside.

So, it was one fine Sunday that some friends and I were sitting there, minding our manners, for the most part, anyway. The preacher droned on and on about attendance levels, the building fund, the upcoming church events, and the missionary field work. The hustle for money came next with the passing around of the offering plate.

Passed around from pew to pew, when it got to me, I'd proudly put my small envelope of nickles and pennies in the felt lined plate...that is if I had any left after buying candy that week.

There would be singing from the hymnal songbook, which we all tried to be the one holding it. If not, we'd just get to hum along to the music, as we couldn't see the words.

By then, we kids would have dug into our pockets or little purses to bring out our pieces of crinkly wrapped butterscotch and peppermint candies to suck on. We'd trade each other for better ones, trying to unwrap them silently. At some point, one of us (usually me) would find the short orange pencil and a blank envelope in the holder in front of us to start a game of hangman. There would be little notes to each other passed back and forth down the line, and stifling our giggles was not easy.

The preacher may have been reciting his sermon, but we weren't listening. We were in our own little world in the midst of the grown-ups.

One Sunday, as we were getting restless, someone elbowed the friend next to them, pointing to the lady sitting in the pew in front of us. Soon we all were staring in amazement. The woman had teased up hair, heavily lacquered, with who knows how many days of hairspray.

Our jaws dropped, and our eyes grew wide at the horror in front of us. A spider was crawling in and out and between the woman's carefully coiffed hair do! We were spellbound. Should we tell her? Should we make a ruckus and run screaming down the center aisle? We'd probably be in trouble either way.

What if that spider jumped on us, I mean, it was only a couple of feet in front of our faces. We leaned back into our pew as far as we could, checked our watches to see how much longer we'd be sitting there before church was let out, calculating our options. What to do? What to do?

At the crucial point of fighting the spider off, or taking flight, we were saved. Literally saved from making a descision, as the preacher called for anyone needing to be saved by salvation, to come to the front. As everyone stood up, we all took off down the aisle, past the preacher and the congregation, giggling all the way out the door.

I don't know what happened to the woman or the spider that day. Hopefully they were saved, too!

Peace, Love, & Salvation

Tuesday, December 3, 2013


There are lots of words. I like words. I write words. I like to learn new words. I even like to read the dictionary. Some words have similar meanings, some are opposites of each other. Some words are used for a certain situation and time period, then they evolve into another word entirely, for the same type of activity.

That is what I am writing about today. There are three that seem to have switched places over the years. These are....

1. Photo Albums
2. Scrapbooks
3. Smash Books

Take the photo album. For many years it has been thought of as a place to put your snapshots in book form. You buy a book that has blank pages designated for this purpose. There are lots of ways to stick them in and be a bit creative in the layout. In earlier days you would purchase little stick on photo corners to hold the photos in place. Mostly they would be arranged in a row, with maybe a caption underneath saying who was in the picture.

Later on there were the magnetic photo books. You'd peel back a clear film on the page, arrange your pictures on the sticky cardboard, then pull the filmy plastic back over them to protect them.

There were also books that had separate picture sized holders which you just slipped your photo into.

To me, that is a photo album.

Next we have scrapbooks. People have been scrapbooking for many years. It would consist of a purchased blank book, usually large. On these pages people glue in all types of things. These could and did include photos, but also souvenirs, mementos...something you wanted to save to remember. There could be bits of colored paper, cards, ticket stubs, newspaper clippings, and whatever the person felt like including in their book. It was a personal record of their interests and reflected their individual personality.

To me, that is a scrapbook.

Here is where it gets tricky, and the words seem to have switched places.
What people of today are calling 'scrapbooking' is by my reasoning, just a pretty, decorative photo album. Photos arranged on a page with some cute purchased thematic stickers or cutouts pleasing to the creator of the book.

What was once actual scrapbooking is now called a 'smash book'. It's the same as it always was, just using a different word.

When and why they switched, I don't know. I have been doing the traditional scrapbooking since I was a kid. There were a few years that I didn't glue anything into books, but I saved all my bits and pieces of items I would eventually use to fill them. When I did begin to do this, I found the words had changed as to which was which.

All words put aside, though, if you like doing pretty photo albums, or scrapbooks, or smash books, it is a wonderful and creative process. It is fun to look back at the pictures and remembrances that you saved, and for later generations to look at and have more of a sense of who you were at that time in history.

Peace, Love, & Create!

Tuesday, November 26, 2013


They skittered away from me. They always do, the little devils. They are fast. I sometimes catch one, but it's not easy.

Laughing at my attempts, they form little armies, taunting me. I curse them. I get angry, stomp my feet, find another weapon in my arsenal, hoping to find one that will annihilate them for good.

I've learned that they are tricksters. They have many hiding places and love to skitter out at me...a suprise attack...only to disappear again.

To look at them, you'd think they are innocent of any evil intent towards me. I know better now. I've come to believe they have some kind of rudimentary intelligence, enhancing their mission.

The ones I've captured are disposed of immediately, but it hardly matters. Multiplication of their species is rapid, and they don't mourn the loss of their comrades.

Where do they come from? How do they get in here? I don't invite them in. I'd never do that.  They are sneaky. If ever you look into any dark recess of this place, you may catch sight of a few, catch them congregating...formulating their plans. I shake my head, knowing they will be gone if I run to get my chosen weapon.

They've been around for centuries, their kind. I'm sure of it. They are a primitive sort, yet hardy...impossible to completely wipe off the face of the Earth.

I've dissected a few that I was lucky enough to catch. They made no sound as I pulled and prodded them apart, even as they crumbled into nothingness. I was surprised. Their bodies disintegrated into a bit of hair, a bit of fluff, back to the dirty little Hell they came from. I shudder at the remembrance of it. I don't pull them apart for curiosity's sake any more.

I chased one the other day, though. A tiny one skittered across the floor right in front of me. I'd caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye. As luck would have it, I had my weapon in hand already. I smashed the bloodless bugger flat. The only witnesses were the others of it's kind, already trapped, on the way to their doom.

I sensed a rustling, a whisper of movement behind me. Whirling around, I dangled my latest victim in front of the others.

"Hah! Look at your future, you devils," I sneered.

Flinging the deceased into their midst, I scooped up the whole lot of them. Their execution was at hand. As today's invaders were being disposed of, I heard their final, collective thought.

"We'll be back."

I sighed, "Waging war on dust bunnies is a never ending job."

Peace, Love, & War

Tuesday, November 19, 2013


The blond boy shuffled his feet in the gravel next to the building. He was waiting. He struck a match, holding the orange flame up to the joint held between his lips. Inhaling deeply, he began to relax. This could be the night.

He watched as a couple of girls ran past him, paying no attention to the boy in the shadows. There was a muffled sound of music seeping out into the chilly night air. Pulling his jacket closer around him, he walked toward the back door of the venue, following in the girls footsteps.

Scrunching through the rocks, he rounded the corner. There was the bus, belching diesel fumes into the cold air. The driver had just let the two girls inside. He sighed, knowing he would never be invited in, yet still hoping...always hoping.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost time. He moved closer to the double doors, his heart pounding a rhythm to match the beat of the music from within. Then a thunderous roar was followed by a silence that made his ears ring. A sudden surge of adreneline coursed through his veins.

A thousand footsteps behind him were coming closer. The doors flew open as two burly men lead the way to the bus. In the few seconds before the crowd caught up to him, he made eye contact with a tall musician coming through the doorway.

He hears the words, "Not tonight," spoken, as the musician signals to him with a hand over his heart. Then he is gone...swept along with his entourage onto the bus

The blond boy is just another face in the crowd of fans now gathered there, hoping to get a glimpse of the musician. It is bittersweet, having been seen, yet not invited along. He turns away, preparing for the next stop on the road ahead.

Inside the bus, the musician watches through the window and sighs.

"Who were you talking to?" a bandmate asks.

"My brother," he replies.

"I didn't see anyone there." the bandmate says.

"I know...he died two years ago. He was my biggest fan...and he still is."

Peace, Love, & Love


What is Flash Fiction? That's what I asked when I first heard the term. By doing a little research online and reading other people's flash fiction stories, here is what I found out.

It is a form of writing fiction that is very short. Some stories can be as short as 75 words or as long as 1,500 words long. They can also be called micro-fiction, short-short stories, and sudden fiction among others.

The stories should follow a criteria of having a beginning, middle, and end. In other words, a complete story told in a way that it stands alone, and is easy to read in a short amount of time.

I have never done this before, but am going to try it. This first one I hope will be the beginning of many more, as I plan to keep working on this type of writing.

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it!

Peace, Love, & Learning

Monday, November 18, 2013


I'm just trying this out to see what it looks I'm trying out a different font....and now another one.....and now this one...ok this one looks good and it is called seems pretty easy to read, so I'll go with this.

I was using the yellow highlighing of the words I write, but it was bugging me. I'd thought it would be just a solid color background, but instead it was just behind the words. The ends of the margin looked so uneven and messy. Go can agree with was pretty sloppy.  Maybe my eyesight is bad, but even now I can see a bit of highlighting behind these words. I don't think I'm doing it right, even now. Let me try something else here. Hang on, you'll see what I mean. ...Ok, now I changed it to just plain white background. Much better?  I think so, even if it was a very light color before.

Another reason I wanted to change the look is because I have some new plans to add to this blog. I will be sharing my "Fan Fiction" story with you. I wanted it to be easier to read. I will give the details in the first post on that catagory.

I am also going to try and write some "Flash Fiction" stories. I've only got one so far, but am working on more. I'd never heard of this catagory of fiction until recently. These are very short stories, quick to read.

Also, I have some Haiku poems, and other poetry I've written that I will put on here in it's own section.

You may think I'm being overly ambitious, and you'd be right. It will be a challenge for me to do all this, but it is writing, and that's what I like to do, in whatever form it may be.

Feel free to browse around, pick what interests you to read, (maybe all of it?).
Don't hesitate to leave a comment, because I do like to know if any of this is being read at all. I will let you know when I've added something new by way of Facebook and Twitter.

Until next time....happy reading!

Peace, Love, & Plans

Tuesday, November 12, 2013


This happened not too long ago.   I have been listening to the radio show "Coast2Coast" for many years. It comes on at midnight here and I have my transistor radio pinned to my pillow so I can hear it.   Well, one night they were going to talk to a person who claimed to be the Devil.

I did not want to hear that interview, so I waited till just before it started to, turn the station.   For some reason, as I turned to a different station, that interview was on the other station, so I kept turning the tuning dial and it was on every single station!

I tried turning the radio completely off, but it would not go off! Meanwhile, I was having to hear the Devil person talking!   Finally, I took out the batteries and that more Devil radio!

That was weird and I have no idea why it would have done that.   Maybe the ghosts around here wanted to hear it and were trying to control the radio that night!

Peace, Love, & Radios!


You've probably heard of the 5 Ws of good reporting......that being to ask and answer these questions:    What, Why, Where, When, Who, and also How could be asked.     

Here are my answers to those questions about my writing.


What is it?   My writing.
What do you write about?    Everything I think about.   I like to write things down in all different types of formats.    I've tried all kinds of styles over the years and found them all to be fun to do.   I have written fan fiction , diarys, journals, memoirs, plays, poetry, dream journals, fiction, observations, lists, children's stories, adult stories, letters, and now even Tweets, and FB messages, and now this blog. 

Some of the earliest writing I ever did was in the form of diarys and fan fiction.   I kept diaries almost from the time I could put pencil to paper.   Fan fiction was probably next. I would make up stories using characters from tv shows I liked, sometimes mixing up the people from one show into another show.   Yes, there were some strange combinations.....think Perry Mason meets Bonanza!    And many more of this type.   Then there were the plays, as I called them, written exactly as you'd see them on a page with stage direction and scenery and acts.    Lots of these were about the popular bands and singing groups of the day.   The memoirs would be a longer form of the diary entries, with much detail included and my thoughts on them, from everyday happenings as I remembered them.    Yes, there were some that I later destroyed, because......ahem.....just because I'd not want anyone to come across them (but now wish I'd kept).     

This is just some of the things I write about.    I love to write and I will continue this writing blog next time, adding more to the What of my writing, then continuing on  to the other Ws.     

(here is an example of one of my observations......the W in the title and in this text...should it have an apostrophe between the W and the small letter s?    I wouldn't think the W is something that could be posessive, as in owning something, but I'm not sure. I will have to look it up and will report what I find to you.    That is something else I love to do......research! =  or what I formally call 'looking stuff up'!)

Until next time, hope I've entertained you with this little bit of writing!

Peace, Love, & Writing!

Tuesday, November 5, 2013


Definition of forebode is to have an inward conviction of a coming ill or portend or foretell......a prediction, an omen or presentiment especially of coming evil.

Have you ever had a foreboding experience?   I know I have on several occasions.   It is a really odd feeling, a heavy feeling that something bad was going to happen.   It will not leave you alone until the incident has happened.

You may not even know what it is about until later.   It's just a creepy, apprehensive feeling in your mind that you want resolved so you can stop thinking about it.   It's like a stalker, you can't see it, but it's there.   It disrupts everything you try to do, and even intrudes on your thinking.   You know it's not good.

Then, some event will happen and the strangeness you've been feeling will be gone.   You look back and say, that was why I was feeling so weird!

Three times I remember this has happened to me.   Once, I had the dreaded feeling all day.   Couldn't shake it.    That evening we got a telegram (we didn't have a phone at the time) delivered to our door.   It just said, 'call home'.   We found a pay phone to call from.    We were informed that a person close to the family had been killed in a tragic accident.  

Another time I'd had that feeling all day, we got a phone call that my Dad was in the hospital.   He'd been injured on the job (a broken arm).

The most recent incident was concerning some medicine I'd been perscribed.   I dreaded taking it......had that foreboding feeling about it.   I just could not make myself take any of it.    I did call the doctor, though, and told him there was no way I would take it, because it would kill me......I would certainly die if I did.   He prescribed another medicine, and I was fine with it.   The feeling that I would die from the other one was so strong!   There was no way I was going to ignore my intuition about it.

So, I really hate getting that foreboding feeling, but in a way I guess it is helpful in some situations!    I would sugggest that if you ever have that sixth sense, that foreboding feeling attention to it!   

Peace, Love, & Intuition

Wednesday, October 30, 2013


The creature's beady, black eyes stare at me without blinking. It's mouth opens and closes in a rythmic opens in a wide gape almost as big as it's head.

It glides and floats effortlessly in slinking undulation, slowly at first......then, darts quickly back to stare at me again.

What is the creature thinking, and does it even have thinking capabilities in that tiny brain?    If so, it must be plotting to create my perfect nightmare, for it has invaded my dreams on oh, so many nights.     At any given moment he will gather his minions with a silent summons.

They've never carried out a daytime invasion, as it has been very effective in the dead of night, but if it works, this could be their supreme coup d'etat.   They would be renowned in the annals of history.

It is time.

Everyone knows their position and are ready.   There is no turning back.   This will be their ultimate sacrifice.    On their leader's signal they will rise in unison, up from the depths, to show their solidarity.   They will no longer be captive, no longer be contained.

The glory day has commenced.   All over the world people will be awed and yes, frightened at their audacity to stage this takeover.

There will be no coming back for these brave heroes of their species, but they will have paved the way for generations to come.

Rise up!     Rise up!

Go forth into glory.........goldfish of the world!

Hope you enjoyed my nightmare.......yes, I have fish phobia.

Peace, Love, & Freaky Fish

Wednesday, October 23, 2013


I've heard about there being other dimensions that exist alongside us in this time and space......unseen for the most part.  Or maybe it's called a parallel universe?   Just going to throw some thoughts out for y'all to ponder, along with a few incidents that may or may not have been a case of a parting of the veil.                                                            

Is this other place existing really close to us? Like in the same room, or following us around?   Is it there all the time or just when we think about it?   Are "we" in it too, another form of ourselves in a slightly different vibration frequency, living our lives in a similar way, but making different choices in our life?    That would be our other selves reality.  And could it be that when other people say they've seen you somewhere and you know you weren't there, maybe they had a glimpse of your other self.....what some would call your doppelganger?    I know I've seen people that looked exactly like someone I knew, then found out that person was not at that place where I saw them.   In fact, people have told me that they have seen me places other than where I've been.   I even had one lady, a stranger to me, swear I was this other lady she knew, even when I kept telling her I wasn't who she thought I was!

Maybe on this 'other side' that world is their reality and get glimpses of us and wonder about the same thing.   Can this other world person see us?   It would be weird if we could sort of tune in to them whenever we wanted, to see yourself doing things, wouldn't it?    Would you want to be able to cross back and forth?   It might be fun...or creepy!  

I have had a few incidents where I think there has been an opening, or parting of the ether, if you will, that makes me pretty much a believer in such things.    Don't know how anyone would go about proving it though.

Here's one that happened not too long ago.   I was looking for a certain written recipe for brownies.   I'd looked for days in all the places it should have been, several times.   Not there.   Definitely, not there.   So this recipe was distinct in that it was on blue paper and in my mother's handwriting, easy to distinguish.   I decided to just ask her where it was.   (she has been deceased for many years).   I was in there at the kitchen table and asked aloud.   Then turning my head to look at the clear drawer storage bin I have recipes in......there it was, right in front, easily seen!   I told her thank you, and proceeded to make the brownies!   So where was this recipe when I couldn't find it, and how did it come to appear right when I'd about given up ever finding it, just when I asked for help?   Could have been in that other dimension......could have come through a portal from the 'other side'.   Could have been my 'other self' had been using that recipe and forgotten to return it!   She just could have needed a little reminder!  

In the next installment of my story, I will tell of more incidents like this that have happened.    They all make me believe the 'other dimension' theory is true.

As always, feel free to comment as I'd love to hear your thoughts on the subject!

Peace, Love, & Portals

Thursday, October 17, 2013


Do you like rocks?   Do you like stones?    I'm not talking about rock 'n roll, or the Rolling Stones, but I do like those, too.   I'm talking about real rocks and stones, the kind you find on the ground.   I've always had a fascination about them.   As a kid I'd pick up rocks out of the driveway, or really anywhere I'd find them, some regular gray ones, some that were more colorful.   My Dad had a rock polisher, so he'd put what I'd found in there and later on we'd look to see what happened.   It took awhile for the magic to happen, and we'd be anticipating the big reveal.   Those plain old rocks would now be so shiny and pretty.  I have no idea what we ever did with them, but we kept on polishing more and more. 

Now I still find rocks in different places.  Some are out in the flower bed, some here in the house, some are river rocks, some are from places we've visited.  There are some that friends have sent to me, and lately there are some I've bought at a rock shop here in town.   I guess you'd say I have a collection going on!   I've been trying to identify some of them and remember what they are called.   Also, what properties they have for special circumstances......such as healing stones, some stones to increase intuition and psychic abilities, and many other ways you can use them.   It is all so interesting.  

This past week I got to break open my geode.   I got it at the rock shop, and it was just a plain sort of rough rock, but inside is supposed to be these really pretty crystals, some white or clear, some may be colored.    That is the fun of cracking it open.....finding out what is inside.

Here is what I did.   In preparation, I got out an old towel to wrap the rock in.   Then the hammer.   I had a little paper that told how and what to do, so I propped that up by everything and then took a picture.   Now it was time to crack it open.   Well, it was a lot harder than I expected.   Believe me, that rock was, well.....rock hard!   So I came down hard on it with the hammer.   Then again and again, and nothing was happening.   Then I put it on the concrete floor of the garage and tried again.   After several more blows, it cracked!    Opening up the towel, I found it in quite a few pieces.   I was kind of expecting it to be in just two pictures I've seen of them.   Oh well, I picked the pieces up and got a close up look at them, and they were so pretty!    All white crystals in interesting shapes and reflecting the light.   So I took another picture.   Now it has joined all my other rocks and stones, sitting there to be admired.

All in all I had fun breaking my geode, and will continue to go rock hunting in the future!

I will try to put a picture of the geode on here.  Hope it works so you can see it.  If not, just take my word for is pretty!

Peace, Love, & Rock On!


Just wanted to give a small update to the post I put on here about all my trouble with the new camera.    I did keep clicking on things, and something must have worked!   I did get to put a picture on from the new camera/computer place.   Still don't know where all the others are, but hope to find them in time.   At any rate I will continue to take pictures, because it is fun and I won't give up learning how to do this computer stuff!

Peace, Love, & Smile!

Wednesday, October 16, 2013


I bought a new digital camera the other day.  The one I'd been using for a year or so was acting strange.  I would put in brand new batteries, only to find that after taking a couple of pictures, the batteries would be all used up.   Sometimes, the camera would announce that the batteries were exhausted even before I took a single picture.              

I was thinking this can't be right!   So, I'd try different, brand new batteries....same thing happened.   Again and again.   Actually this is the second camera that has done this very same thing.   What could be going on?   I tried sticking a pencil eraser down into the battery compartment to maybe clean the terminals off, and that didn't work.  I then tried a Q-Tip, with no better results.   The weird thing was, was that the batteries were actually perfectly fine.   I tried them in other things and they worked.   So my conclusion was that the camera had just quit working right.

So, off I went to the store to buy a new one.   I told the sales lady that I was looking for a very simple digital camera....something with easy to follow instructions and no fancy gadgets.   She showed me a couple that were the best sellers of that type, and gave a long explanation of why they were so easy to use.   They even had a rechargeable battery!   Great feature in my opinion.   I bought one, brought it home and read the instructions.   Seemed pretty easy, so I charged it up for a little while, then took a few pictures to get the feel of it.   They looked pretty good.

Now, however, I wanted to add the pictures to the computer so I could keep them there and also if I wanted to share them to anyone, I could.

This is where I ran into trouble.   I plugged in the USB port to the computer and the camera and was expecting a screen to come up like it did from my old camera in order to import the pictures.   That was not what I got.   There were all kinds of weird websites that wanted me to set up an account with them.   Well, I didn't want to do that...all I wanted was my pictures on the computer.   So, I keep trying, clicking on this and that, and at one point got a screen that started putting all my pictures from my old camera (that was already in the computer) on to this new one's "special" page.   There was no stopping it!!  Then there were instructions on how to actually see my pictures, including the new camera's pictures, but they were so difficult to understand, I had no idea what to do.    I gave up at this point.   I later went back to find my pictures from the old camera just to see if they were still there....a few were, but most of them had disappeared into computer limbo or something...still don't know where they are.    

Over the last few days I have been trying to find them, and to maybe push the right button to share one or two I did find.  I managed to get them to show up on a place I wanted them to go, but it refused to send it.    And that is where I am now.   Still lost in technology land with no answers...oh, I did find a help site for the camera, but they wanted to charge a fee for an answer.   No thanks!

At this point I suppose I will keep trying to figure it out one click of the button at at time and hopefully someday get to put a picture on here again!   Wish me luck!           

Peace, Love, & Smile!

Sunday, October 13, 2013


This happened a few months ago, right here in my living room.   I was sitting here at my computer desk, when I turned to get up.   My Grandson's small metal car had appeared on the floor right behind me.

Now, my Grandson and his family had been here four months before (they live in another state) and he had his toy cars here.  I'm sure one probably got left behind when they went home.  However, in the past four months, I know I'd moved the furniture around, swept the floors, etc. and had not seen a toy car at all.

I did not hear any noise of a metal car rolling toward me over the hardwood floor.   The cats, as usual were in the bedroom asleep, so I know they did not drag it out.

I got this weird feeling, like why is this here in the middle of the room......where did it come from?    I did not go pick it up right away, kind of waiting to see if it would move or didn't.

The cats did eventually come out into the living room, but they were very suspiscious of the little car.    They acted scared to go near it, and walked wide around it, like they were afraid it might come after them.    That is not normal behaviour for them, as they like to bat things around the house, whatever they think is a toy to play with.

Well, I left that toy car there all the rest of the day, then finally picked it up.    Now it is on the shelf by this desk........maybe it's waiting to make it's next move?    I don't know, but I see it looking (?) at me every day!                                                                           

Peace, Love, & Toy Cars


Thursday, October 10, 2013


It just occured to me that I own a fast food franchise.   It is open 24/7, but most of my customers show up for their meals early in the morning and late afternoon.   It is a specialized type of business, being that my clientel do not walk in or drive up to the take-out window.   They all fly in for their fast food.   This is convenient for them, as they are always in a hurry.   There is no landing strip or runways or beacon lights, but they are able to hover at will.    They are not picky about the menu, as there is only one item offered daily.    They will get a bit testy and give me dirty looks if the food is late in being served.   They will peer into the windows or sit on the fence surrounding the business and discuss amongst themselves the situation and what to do about it.   I can hear them.....I know they are planning a revolt.    I do try to keep food in stock, but occasionally will run out and have to make a run to the supplier for more.                

Most of my customers run in gangs. They are gang members.   For the most part they come in separately, but once in awhile two or more gangs will meet up in the parking lot.   There is occasional squabbling, poking, loud insults, chases, shoving, and even standing upon one another in their bid for the best place at the table.   Sometimes it is the larger gang members dressed in their gray uniforms that win the rumble.   Other times it will be the smaller stature, brown uniformed ones that will claim victory.   The losers will retreat for awhile, regrouping and making another charge.   There is another gang from down the way that will occasionally come to mount a seige against the regulars.   This is the even larger, noiser gang who are dressed all in black.   When they show up everyone else gives way, retreating to a safe distance.  No one wants to accept their challenge.   They don't stay long, just taking what food they want and are back on the streets and in the air looking for more places to conquor.                                         

A couple of times a year the mama's and the papa's will bring their young ones to the fast food free for all.   They are very good at instructing the little ones in how to act when out in public.  They feed them at first, but then must learn to feed themselves.    They learn fast how to eat on their own, and also to watch out for trouble, which can come at any time.   In time these small ones will be bringing their own offspring to my fast food joint.                                                                             

I do not charge for the food, at least in the normal way of paying.   All I ask is that they entertain me....and they certainly do that.   Through all the seasons, I enjoy watching the dynamics and antics of my feathered friends!                                                         

My franchise is my bird feeder in the back yard!                                                          

Thank you to all the doves, sparrows, and grackles, plus all the other kinds of birds I see daily and enjoy watching!                                                                                      

Peace, Love, & Tweets!

Saturday, September 28, 2013


Have you ever felt like someone was watching you?  Some unseen presense there in the room?  You look around, but don't see anyone.  You just have a creepy feeling that makes you aware, maybe makes your hair stand up on your arms.   I have had this feeling many times.

The most frequent was at my Grandma's house...the one where in my other story "Identified Flying Objects" happened.   There was an old wooden detatched garage by the house.  It had a dirt floor, was kind of rickety, and an old musty smell.  Just the usual items found in a home garage.

However, back behind where the car would be parked, there was another little room.  You'd go through a flimsy door to get to it.  That is where the feeling of being watched was strongest.  Us kids would always beg to go prowl around in there though, because it was spooky, and we liked getting into all the junk out there.

There were canning jars, miscellaneous household items stored in there, but the best, to us, was an old antique trunk.  I don't know whose it was.  Probably it belonged to some long ago relative, but we'd look at what was in there.  There were old clothes from a long ago time, mementos, and a strange little box with this person's hair in it...sort of a long tress of brown and gray.  It was fascinating! 

Just as we'd be into our discoveries, though, we'd all get spooked, because we could definitely feel/sense that we were being watched.   It could have been the owner of the trunk, I suppose.  Never saw anything, but just that creepy feeling, and we'd know we had to get out of there in a hurry!  I went in there several times all by myself, when I was told not to, but couldn't resist!

Inside the main house, too, there was a feeling you'd get, especially in the back bedroom.  The places we'd feel it was coming from was up in the North West corner of the ceiling, and also from the closet.  That uneasy feeling of being watched.

Well, Grandma lived in that house many years, and from time to time she'd go out of town, and it would be me that would go over and water plants, get the mail, etc. 

I'll tell you what, I did all this in a hurry, because there sure felt like there was some presense in that house, and I did not like being in there alone!

Eventually she moved to another house, where things still flew around, and new owners lived in the spooky house. 

It is still there.  I see it often, and wonder if the people living there now have had any weirdness going on.

Peace, Love, & Watchers

Monday, September 23, 2013


Does she or doesn't she?   That is the question that was posed quite a few years ago by a hair dye company.   There was also a jingle that was about washing the grey away.  I don't remember which company or companies they were, but both statements had a way of staying with you so you'd remember them and hopefully buy their product.

Back then I suppose there was a stigma associated with women coloring their hair.  Why they needed to keep it a secret, I don't know.   Everyone knows people get grey hair.   What's the big deal about putting a color on to hide them if you didn't like them?

By the time I started dying my hair, there wasn't much said about it anymore. Now here we are in 2013 and we can see that lots of people have color on their hair...women and men...and there is acceptance.  There are as many colors available now as there are personalities to wear them.   I like that.

I have had fun experimenting with different colors, myself.  I have had my hair red, black, frosted, brunette, and everything in between.   I've used colored hairspray, hair mascara, chalk, and even cherry Kool-aid (which, by the way, looked awesome!).

Mostly I've  done the dying here at home.  Occasionally, I'd go to a salon to have it professionally colored, but that tends to be expensive.  So I go through the whole preparation, which is a bit of trouble.  It can be messy, so here's what i do.

I gather up old newspapers, or an old sheet to spread out on the bathroom floor to catch any drips. I put on an old t-shirt that I don't mind getting dye on. Then I take the product from the box, setting them on the old towel I've covered the sink area with.  Reading the instructions over a few times (no matter how many times I've done this) so I won't forget a step, I then mix the color with the developer, snip the top off the applicator bottle, then start shaking it...a lot, because they tell you you should.  Taking a few deep breaths to actually psyche myself into actually doing this, I start squirting the dye on the top of my head. 

"Don't let it get in my eyes, don't let it get in my eyes!" I say to myself. Everything is going along fine, but then I worry I won't have enough dye to cover all my hair.  The bottle feels like it is getting empty!  By now, my arms are aching from being held up in the air for so long, squeezing that bottle.  So finally finished with that part, I grab a wet washcloth and start wiping the smears from my ears, neck, forehead, arms and anywhere else I can see a spot of dye.  

"Oh, no...what time did I finish...I have to time this for 20 minutes!"  I start counting on the clock trying to determine what time I can take this mess off!  I check several times during that 20 minutes, because, maybe I miscounted the first time.

Looking around, I notice there were drips on the sheet on the floor, and also on and in the cat's litter box.   Well, now what?  Can't let the cats get in there and get poisoned by hair dye on their feet...and you know cats lick their paws, so now I have about 5 minutes before the time is up and I'm scrambling to change out the litter box, because for real the cats are scratching at the door to come in!

"No, cat, you can't come'll be poisoned!" I yell at the door.

So, now the time has come for the washing off the dye.  Hurry up and get the shower water the right temperature, get another washcloth ready to hold over my eyes, because for sure I'll be blinded with the water and dye running everywhere.  And I rinse, and rinse and rinse some more.  I'm supposed to keep rinsing till the water runs clear, but tell me, how are you supposed to know?  I have my eyes squinched shut and can't look at the water right now!    Huh, crazy directions, seems to me.  Now for the last part. Putting on the conditioner and standing there waiting for 2 more minutes...and those are really long minutes.

Now I'm out and it's time for the big reveal.  Did the dye actually work?  Did I miss any spots?  Does it look good?   Yes! Success, it worked!

Now I'm good to go....that is until next time, which comes around before you know it.

So, here I go...getting out the old sheets or newspapers, etc., etc.

Peace, Love, & She Does!