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  • #6231
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Gladstone Road

      My mother remembers her grandfather Samuel Warren’s house at 3 Gladstone Road, Stourbridge. She was born in 1933, so this would be late 1930s early 1940s.

      “Opening a big wooden gate in a high brick wall off the sidewalk I went down a passage with a very high hedge to the main house which was entered on this side through a sort of glassed-in lean-to then into the dark and damp scullery and then into a large room with a fireplace which was dining room and living room for most of the time. The house was Georgian and had wooden interior shutters at the windows. My Grandad sat by the fire probably most of the day. The fireplace may have had an oven built over or to the side of the fire which was common in those days and was used for cooking.
      That room led into a hall going three ways and the main front door was here. One hall went to the pantry which had stone slabs for keeping food cool, such a long way from the kitchen! Opposite the pantry was the door to the cellar. One hall led to two large rooms with big windows overlooking the garden. There was also a door at the end of this hallway which opened into the garden. The stairs went up opposite the front door with a box room at the top then along a landing to another hall going right and left with two bedrooms down each hall.
      The toilet got to from the scullery and lean-to was outside down another passage all overgrown near the pigsty. No outside lights!
      On Christmas day the families would all have the day here. I think the menfolk went over to the pub {Gate Hangs Well?} for a drink while the women cooked dinner. Chris would take all the children down the dark, damp cellar steps and tell us ghost stories scaring us all. A fire would be lit in one of the big main rooms {probably only used once a year} and we’d sit in there and dinner was served in the other big main room. When the house was originally built the servants would have used the other room and scullery.
      I have a recollection of going upstairs and into a bedroom off the right hand hall and someone was in bed, I thought an old lady but I was uncomfortable in there and never went in again. Seemed that person was there a long time. I did go upstairs with Betty to her room which was the opposite way down the hall and loved it. She was dating lots of soldiers during the war years. One in particular I remember was an American Army Officer that she was fond of but he was killed when he left England to fight in Germany.
      I wonder if the person in bed that nobody spoke about was an old housekeeper?
      My mother used to say there was a white lady who floated around in the garden. I think Kay died at Gladstone Road!”

      Samuel Warren, born in 1874 in Newhall, Derbyshire, was my grandmothers father.  This is the only photograph we’ve seen of him (seated on right with cap).  Kay, who died of TB in 1938, is holding the teddy bear. Samuel died in 1950, in Stourbridge, at the age of 76.

      Samuel Warren Kay Warren

      Left to right: back row: Leslie Warren. Hildred Williams / Griffiths (Nee Warren). Billy Warren. 2nd row: Gladys (Gary) Warren. Kay Warren (holding teddy bear). Samuel Warren (father). Hildred’s son Chris Williams (on knee). Lorna Warren. Joan Williams. Peggy Williams (Hildreds daughters). Jack Warren. Betty Warren.

      #4403
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        random plot generator

        A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

        Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

        ALBIE
        Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

        JENNY
        I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

        ALBIE
        I am such a person!

        JENNY
        I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

        JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

        Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

        ALBIE
        Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

        MATT
        I’m afraid not.

        ALBIE
        What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

        MATT
        It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

        ALBIE
        Defenseless elderly ladies?

        MATT
        Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

        ALBIE
        Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

        MATT
        I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

        ALBIE
        You can start by telling me where this happened.

        MATT
        I was…
        MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

        ALBIE
        Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

        MATT
        The Library! That’s right – the Library!

        ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

        EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

        ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

        INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

        ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

        ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

        MATT
        What is is? What’s the matter?

        ALBIE
        That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

        MATT
        Who’s Roger Blunder?

        ALBIE
        Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

        MATT
        Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

        ALBIE
        You can say that again.

        MATT
        Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

        ALBIE
        I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

        Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

        ROGER
        Albie Jones, we meet again!

        MATT
        You’ve met?

        ALBIE
        Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

        EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

        A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

        He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

        ROGER
        Would you like some wine gums?

        ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

        ALBIE
        I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

        ROGER
        Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

        ALBIE
        Wait, you’re a hooligan?

        ALBIE runs away, screaming.

        INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

        ROGER
        You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

        MATT
        (To ALBIE) You ran away?
        ALBIE
        (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
        ALBIE turns to ROGER.

        ALBIE
        I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
        ALBIE runs away.

        He turns back and shouts.

        ALBIE
        I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

        ROGER
        I’m not scared of you.

        ALBIE
        You should be.

        INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

        ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

        ALBIE
        I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

        MATT
        Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

        ALBIE
        You know nothing Matt Humble.

        MATT
        We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

        Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

        ROGER
        Looking for something?

        MATT
        Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

        ALBIE
        Tell me something I don’t already know!

        MATT
        The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

        ALBIE
        I know that already!

        MATT
        I’m afraid of dust.

        ROGER
        (appalled) Dude!

        While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

        ALBIE
        Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

        ROGER
        No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

        JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

        ALBIE
        I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

        ROGER
        Don’t hurt me! Please!

        ALBIE
        Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

        ROGER
        Because Albie, I am your father.

        ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

        ALBIE
        No you’re not!

        ROGER
        Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

        ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

        ALBIE
        Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

        Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

        MATT
        Did he just faint?

        ALBIE
        I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

        ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

        MATT
        Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

        ALBIE
        No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

        ALBIE
        What?

        ALBIE
        Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

        MATT claps his hands.

        MATT
        So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

        JENNY steps forward.

        JENNY
        Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

        ALBIE
        Jenny how long have you been…?

        JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

        JENNY
        Long enough.

        ALBIE
        Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

        JENNY
        Then the elderly ladies are safe?

        ALBIE
        It does seem that way!

        A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

        JENNY
        You are their hero.

        The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

        ALBIE
        There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

        JENNY
        You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

        One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

        JENNY
        I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

        ALBIE
        I couldn’t possibly.
        Pause.

        ALBIE
        Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

        ALBIE takes the ring.

        ALBIE
        Thank you.
        The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

        ALBIE turns to JENNY.

        ALBIE
        Does this mean you want me back?

        JENNY
        Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
        ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

        ALBIE
        Well you can’t have me.

        JENNY
        WHAT?

        ALBIE
        You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

        JENNY
        But…

        ALBIE
        Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

        MATT grins.

        JENNY
        But…

        MATT
        You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

        JENNY
        Albie?

        ALBIE
        I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
        JENNY leaves.

        MATT turns to ALBIE.

        MATT
        Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

        ALBIE
        Of course you are!
        The two walk off arm in arm.

        Suddenly MATT stops.

        MATT
        When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

        #4219

        As the crow flies, Glenville is about 100 miles from the Forest of Enchantment.

        “What a pretty town!” tourists to the area would exclaim, delighted by the tree lined streets and quaint houses with thatched roofs and brightly painted exteriors. They didn’t see the dark underside which rippled just below the surface of this exuberant facade. If they stayed for more than a few days, sure enough, they would begin to sense it. “Time to move on, perhaps,” they would say uneasily, although unsure exactly why and often putting it down to their own restless natures.

        Glynis Cotfield was born in one of these houses. Number 4 Leafy Lane. Number 4 had a thatched roof and was painted a vibrant shade of yellow. There were purple trims around each window and a flower box either side of the front door containing orange flowers which each spring escaped their confines to sprawl triumphantly down the side of the house.

        Her father, Kevin Cotfield, was a bespectacled clerk who worked in an office at the local council. He was responsible for building permits and making sure people adhered to very strict requirements to ‘protect the special and unique character of Glenville’.

        And her mother, Annelie … well, her mother was a witch. Annelie Cotfield came from a long line of witches and she had 3 siblings, all of whom practised the magical arts in some form or other.

        Uncle Brettwick could make fire leap from any part of his body. Once, he told Glynis she could put her hand in the fire and it wouldn’t hurt her. Tentatively she did. To her amazement the fire was cold; it felt like the air on a frosty winter’s day. She knew he could also make the fire burning hot, if he wanted. Some people were a little scared of her Uncle Brettwick and there were occasions—such as when Lucy Dickwit told everyone at school they should spit at Glynis because she came from an ‘evil witch family’—when she used this to her advantage.

        “Yes, and I will tell my Uncle to come and burn down your stinking house if you don’t shut your stinking stupid mouth!” she said menacingly, sticking her face close to Lucy’s face. “And give me your bracelet,” she added as an after thought. It had worked. She got her peace and she got the bracelet.

        Aunt Janelle could move objects with her mind. She set up a stall in the local market and visitors to the town would give her money to watch their trinkets move. “Lay it on the table”, she would command them imperiously. “See, I place my hands very far from your coin. I do not touch it. See?” Glynis would giggle because Aunt Janelle put on a funny accent and wore lots of garish makeup and would glare ferociously at the tourists.

        But Aunt Bethell was Glynis’s favourite—she made magic with stories. “I am the Mistress of Illusions,” she would tell people proudly. When Glynis was little, Aunt Bethell would create whole stories for her entertainment. When Glynis tried to touch the story characters, her hand would go right through them. And Aunt Bethell didn’t even have to be in the same room as Glynis to send her a special magical story. Glynis adored Aunt Bethell.

        Her mother, Annelie, called herself a healer but others called her a witch. She concocted powerful healing potions using recipes from her ’Big Book of Spells’, a book which had belonged to Annelie’s mother and her mother before her. On the first page of the book, in spindly gold writing it said: ‘May we never forget our LOVE of Nature and the Wisdom of Ages’. When Glynis asked what the ‘Wisdom of Ages’ meant, her mother said it was a special knowing that came from the heart and from our connection with All That Is. She said Glynis had the Wisdom of Ages too and then she would ask Glynis to gather herbs from the garden for her potions. Glynis didn’t think she had any particular wisdom and wondered if it was a ploy on her mother’s part to get free labour. She obeyed grudgingly but drew the line at learning any spells. And on this matter her father sided with her. “Don’t fill her mind with all that hocus pocus stuff,” he would say grumpily.

        Despite this, the house was never empty; people came from all over to buy her mother’s potions and often to have their fortunes told as well. Mostly while her father was at work.

        Glynis’s best friend when she was growing up was Tomas. Tomas lived at number 6 Leafy Lane. They both knew instinctively they shared a special bond because Tomas’s father also practised magic. He was a sorcerer. Glynis was a bit scared of Tomas’s Dad who had a funny crooked walk and never spoke directly to her. “Tell your friend you must come home now, Tomas,” he would call over the fence.

        Being the son of a sorcerer, Tomas would also be a sorcerer. “It is my birthright,” he told her seriously one day. Glynis was impressed and wondered if Tomas had the Wisdom of Ages but it seemed a bit rude to ask in case he didn’t.

        When Tomas was 13, his father took him away to begin his sorcery apprenticeship. Sometimes he would be gone for days at a time. Tomas never talked about where he went or what he did there. But he started to change: always a quiet boy, he became increasingly dark and brooding.

        Glynis felt uneasy around this new Tomas and his growing possessiveness towards her. When Paul Ackleworthy asked her to the School Ball, Tomas was so jealous he broke Paul’s leg. Of course, nobody other than Glynis guessed it was Tomas who caused Paul’s bike to suddenly wobble so that he fell in the way of a passing car.

        “You could have fucking killed him!” she had shouted at Tomas.

        Tomas just shrugged. This was when she started to be afraid of him.

        One day he told her he was going for his final initiation into the ‘Sorcerer Fraternity’.

        “I have to go away for quite some time; I am not sure how long, but I want you to wait for me, Glynis.”

        “Wait for you?”

        He looked at her intensely. “It is destined for us to be together and you must promise you will be here for me when I get back.”

        Glynis searched for her childhood friend in his eyes but she could no longer find him there.

        “Look, Tomas, I don’t know,” she stuttered, wary of him, unwilling to tell the truth. “Maybe we shouldn’t make any arrangements like this … after all you might be away for a long time. You might meet someone else even …. some hot Sorceress,” she added, trying not to sound hopeful.

        Suddenly, Glynis found herself flying. A gust of wind from nowhere lifted her from her feet, spun her round and then held her suspended, as though trying to decide what to do next, before letting her go. She landed heavily at Tomas’s feet.

        “Ow!” she said angrily.

        “Promise me.”

        “Okay! I promise!” she said.

        Her mother’s face went white when Glynis told her what Tomas had done.

        That evening there was a gathering of Uncle Brettwick and the Aunts. There was much heated discussion which would cease abruptly when Glynis or her father entered the room. “Alright, dearie?” one of the Aunts would say, smiling way too brightly. And over the following days and weeks there was a flurry of magical activity at 4 Leafy Lane, all accompanied by fervent and hushed whisperings.

        Glynis knew they were trying to help her, and was grateful, but after the initial fear, she became defiant. “Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?” She left Glenville to study architecture at the prestigious College of Mugglebury. It was there she met Conway, who worked in the cafe where she stopped for coffee each morning on her way to class. They fell in love and moved in together, deciding that as soon as Glynis had graduated they would marry. It had been 4 years since she had last seen Tomas and he was now no more than a faint anxious fluttering in her chest.

        It was a Friday when she got the news that Conway had driven in the path of an oncoming truck and was killed instantly. She knew it was Friday because she was in the supermarket buying supplies for a party that weekend to celebrate her exams being over when she got the call. And it was the same day Tomas turned up at her house.

        And it was then she knew.

        “You murderer!” she had screamed through her tears. “Kill me too, if you want to. I will never love you.”

        “You’ve broken my heart,” he said. “And for that you must pay the price. If I can’t have you then I will make sure no-one else wants you either.”

        “You don’t have a heart to break,” she whispered.

        Dragon face,” Tomas hissed as he left.

        Glynis returned to Glenville just long enough to tell her family she was leaving again. “No, she didn’t know where,” she said, her heart feeling like stone. Her mother and her Aunts cried and begged her to reconsider. Her Uncle smouldered in silent fury and let off little puffs of smoke from his ears which he could not contain. Her father was simply bewildered and wanted to know what was all the fuss about and for crying out loud why was she wearing a burka?

        The day she left her mother gave her the ‘Book of Spells”. Glynis knew how precious this book was to her mother but could only think how heavy it would be to lug around with her on her journey.

        “Remember, Glynis,” her mother said as she hugged Glynis tightly to her, “the sorcerers have powerful magic but it is a mere drop in the ocean in comparison to the magic of All That Is. You have that great power within you and no sorcerer can take take that from you. You have the power to transform this into something beautiful.”

        #4160
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          “Poor old Mum,” repeated Sara who had entered the room behind her twin. “That’s awful. But anyway, there is something we have to tell you.” She looked at Steve and he nodded, encouraging her to continue. John looked at them both guiltily.

          “If it is that Steve is really a girl, I know that. I’ve known for years, of course. But your Mum did want a boy so badly … the pretence just got out of hand and we started believing it ourselves. Sorry about that.”

          “No worries, Dad,” said Steve, (who from this point on was known as ‘Stevie’). “It will be a relief to stop pretending though. It’s a bit awkward sometimes … no, that isn’t it. The thing is ….”

          “Stevie and I are going to Australia,” broke in Sara. “You know, where Clove comes from. We’ve decided to go and stay at the Flying Fish Inn.”

          #4155
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Where’s Mum?” asked Steve. The kitchen door banged behind him.

            John winced at the noise. “What will the neighbours think with all that banging!”

            “Where’s Mum?” repeated Steve.

            “Oh, she had a stroke when she saw the new clothes pegs. Not bloody surprising, either! Far too bright for down the garden, they were! Enough to give anyone a stroke.”

            “No, seriously, Dad, where is she?”

            “I am serious! She’s in the hospital, lost her speech but her arms and legs are working fine. Blessing in disguise if you ask me.”

            “Dad!” Steve was shocked. “Poor old Mum. Who’s going to cook the dinner?”

            #4140
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              “What are you doing!” Liz’ cried in anguish. “Not my plants!”

              A bonfire was in full blaze, and Felicity relished in the view. “Don’t listen to her Leo, get rid of those nasty things — no bloody wonder she can’t see reality for fiction.”

              Liz’ was appalled at the sight of the stash going in flames. “That’s it, I’m going to call the police!”

              Godfrey had to rein her and her fury in, while her towel unravelled making her look madder by the minute. “Liz’, calm down, please. Don’t make it worse, I’ll help you get rid of her, if only for your peace of mind.”
              “You snake!” She hissed, “I’m sure your in cahoots with her, she’s been planning her revenge ever since I gave all her suitcases of clothes to charity.”
              Liz’, please, listen to yourself, you’re not making any sense. Let me get you a coconut avocado smoothie to soothe your nerves. Finnley!”

              #4096
              prUneprUne
              Participant

                I don’t know exactly when it struck me first. The passage of time.
                When you are young, it’s easy to miss it, some would say “you’re a child, you don’t know about such things”, and maybe they are right.

                In a few months, it will already be 2 years that we reopened the Inn. The results have been mixed, we haven’t gotten any richer, but it definitely helps pay the bills.

                It definitely helped to pay for Aunt Idle’s rehab, after her nervous breakdown last March. Well, rehab is a big word. We got professional help from some friend of Mater, Jiemba, who knows someone who knows someone.
                Of course, we had to package it nicely for Didle to take the bait. She would have none of that rehab thing of course. But she was sold at the first syllable of Banisteriopsis caapi vine and Psychotria viridis leaf, well aya for short.

                After that, seems she wanted to travel to Iceland. Got to figure how she gets all that fancy money. Mater says it’s her sugar daddy lovers. Not Mater’s, you silly. Dido’s.
                Mater says that without any judgment, which is rare. She still calls her a tart and all sorts of nice things, but it’s like she’s proud that she made it in the world —or just that she slowed down on the gin bottle.

                Speaking of Mater, she hasn’t been so well. After she tried to grab some can of chicken broth from the shelves, she broke her hip bone. Of course she couldn’t stand staying at the hospital and got herself discharged as soon as her doctor looked the other way, but I can see she’s not completely healed. Finnly is doing her best with the circumstances, adding nursing to her housekeeping skills. And Bert’s been around to support with the inn maintenance.

                Well my twin sisters are another story altogether. They’ll be moving out, they said, live in the big city. They had no intention of going to college anyway. Seems they are looking for a full-time blogger job. I’m betting they’ll be back soon enough. Nothing beats Finnly’s mince pice and charbroiled spicy huhu skewers.

                It’s been a while I’ve seen Dev’. Always working at the gas station. Mater always says his lack of ambition will save him from trouble.

                So yes, time has passed. It’s funny how nobody else seems to notice.

                #3669
                prUneprUne
                Participant

                  Christmas has always been a strange tradition in our family.
                  Maybe because first and foremost, Christmas is all about family. Besides the twins and their bond, sometimes I wonder what makes us a family at all.
                  It doesn’t help that we can never get snow around this place, and dressing in red and white fluff is not going to make things suddenly magical.

                  It was comical to see the exterminator come with a red bonnet, panting and all red himself, as if he were some genial Santa bringing gifts of death to our yonder’s rodents residents.
                  He didn’t catch a rat, but got himself a fright. Thanks to Mater, when she erupted in the attic in her white hanuka honey cream face-lifter mask. I think that sneaky Finly got to her in the end.
                  The mystery of the strange noises in the inn is not going soon, apparently.

                  Bert and Aunt Idle got back from their trip in the evening. Apparently Bert had insisted to bring some sort of shrub to make a Christmas tree in the great hall (it’s not so great, but we call it that). Finly didn’t seem pleased too much with it. Raking leaves in summer, bringing pests inside… she didn’t have many kind things to say about it. So Mater sends her to cook a “festive dinner”, that’s what she said. I heard Finly mutter in her breath something about kiwi specials. I like kiwis. Hope she’ll make a pavlova… just, not with Mater’s face cream!

                  It seems that giving small gestures of appreciation got the mood going. Aunt Idle is always very good at decorating with the oddest or simplest of things, like rolls of TP. Sometimes she would draw nice hieroglyphs in the layer of dust on the cabinets, it gives the furniture a special look. Mater always says it’s because she’s too lazy to do some cleaning consistently, but I think it’s because cleaning is not creative enough for her. Can’t believe I just said nice things about Aunt Idle. Christmas spirit must be contagious.

                  Then, Devan came home with some pastries. It’s not often I see Devan these days, and usually he’s always brooding. I would too, if I had to come back home when I could just start my life away from there. Finly was all eyes on him all of a sudden. Seems nobody noticed, not even the twins, too busy being snarky while playing on their phones,… it looks like there is some strange game between these two, my brother and our Finly. I think Finly makes a lot of efforts to look younger with him, I can see when she fiddles with her hair. They would make good friends, and I’m sure Devan doesn’t mind the accent.

                  As always, it’s not about how pretty the tree is, or how good the food is, or how big the gifts are… It’s more about being together, for better or for worse. And Dad, and Mum are always out of this almost nice picture, but somehow, it matters less today.

                  There’s a good thing about that Christmas spirit. It gives you the weirdest ideas. To be nice, I asked Mater if we should invite the guests to our festive dinner, and probably lifted by the mood, she said yes, of course. When I went to the closed door to invite the guy, I thought a random act of kindnes is a perfect occasion to learn more about our mysterious resident stranger… Maybe that’s what the adults mean in church when they say you should always be kind to each other.

                  #3596
                  DevanDevan
                  Participant

                    Working at the gas station was the only way I found to get away of that dead fish Inn. That and hockey.

                    Ever since Jasper died, I’ve tried to escape the stifling atmosphere of the family. I felt barely annoyed when mother left, I was already empty.
                    I tried to come back a few times, but it was too hard to look at the twin girls growing together, whereas I was denied this chance with my brother. Oh! I didn’t have anything against them, I would play the role of the caring and protective brother whenever necessary at school. But it was easier to stay outside and play hockey with my best buddies Joe and Callum.

                    When dad left, I felt betrayed. I still wonder why he didn’t take me with him on his adventures. Jasper says I’m better here at the moment. I don’t know what’s better, but that’s the only place I can be with no money and no education.

                    #3493
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Soul loss and soul recovery
                      Whenever you are in a situation with intense pain, grief, loss, or intense joy, excitement, you may lose part of your soul, or vital energy, it’s also called dissociation by the psychologist. You usually do it to make it stop, or it is an automatic action to stop the intensity of what’s going on.
                      You separate yourself form an aspect of yourself, and you are not aware of it, most of the time. It can manifest as chronic fatigue, depression, feeling numb, addictive behavior, etc.
                      In order to get back this energy, you have to reclaim it. And as a shaman, you do it through the process of soul recovery. Today you’re going to learn how to do it.
                      It is relatively simple. First, you are going to go in the lower world, find your main power animal. Thank it again for all that it does for you and ask them if they are the one to help you in the process of soul recovery. If not, ask them to lead you to your soul recovery animal. When you get acquainted to this new animal, you can ask them their name, and how you can call them when you need them. Thank them for their help and presence with you.
                      When you do a soul recovery, you may not know what you are going to recover. You may not really know what you have lost, or you may not be aware of symptoms. Just tell your Soul Recovery Power animal (SRPA) that you want to recover a part of your soul that you are missing at the moment. They’ll guide you through the process. Follow them, trust them.
                      They may take you through different places or spaces and times to go find that lost soul piece. It may be from your childhood, from another life, or dream situations.
                      You are going to be presented to that piece of your soul and you have to ask them what happen. Most of the time they are frightened and don’t want to come back. You have to convince them, and ask them what you have to do to show them that you’ll not do the same “mistake” that make them leave in the first place. It may require you change something in your behavior, in your attitude toward certain things, it might be simple or huge. Depends on what you find. And it’s up to you to see if you’re up to the challenge.
                      you can also take some time with your power animals to get to know them better and learn from them.
                      If you don’t know how to manage the situation with the lost piece of soul, you can ask your soul recovery power animal to help you do the “negotiation” part
                      but you’ll have to do what’s required by the soul so that it comes back definitively sts
                      If you still have time, you can go on a second recovery.
                      And remember, this is not a race, take your time, don’t rush, enjoy the journey.

                      Eric
                      Before the music starts, I have the feeling of “Nagini” my snake power animal: it’s looking patiently at me with golden eyes. I also get the first impression of a spirit panda as a soul retrieving power animal. There are two aspects of it, a docile and friendly one, and another more fearsome, they seem to shift depending on his mood. As the music starts, I sift through few fleeting impressions (one of a lemur), then some stronger.
                      The panda comes back but I also have other animals who seem to present themselves in order, as if in different directions, and I remember there are no rules as their number, so I let myself welcome them. The panda is on the right, it seems connected to childhood memories, (call it “Panda”) then, on middle right, there is a spider (“Anansi”), it connects to the jumping spiders I’ve seen a few times the past days, and
                      one this morning I put outside instead of letting it drown.Middle left, coming from above and perched on a tree, there is a firebird/phoenix (“Fawkes”). There is another one, I remember a bit later that appeared further left, as if from the direction behind me, it’s an ape (“Hanuman”).
                      The serpent circles around them. I have the impression I can choose any of them, and they will lead me to different realizations, and I have the impression of the buddhist emanations, where enlightened being manage to split themselves into many as one. So I decide to ride them all at once. Actually, I start with the first three ones, and as I ride on the land, I suddenly remember the ape which was very discrete initially,but seems to be willing to show me stuff too.
                      The land we ride into is dark, almost volcanic in nature, as if scorched. There are trails that spread to different directions, and each ride goes down one of them. There are various visions, moments and memories from the past connected with strong emotions.
                      At one end, there is a little boy that shoots magma out of his incandescent body. It irradiates the land through veins of lava, and as it cools down it darkens the land even more. He seems to be caught up in a circle of rage or fear, fear of never seeing the light again. I listen to him without words, and realize he’s afraid of letting go.
                      I’ll show him the light is covered by his own cinders, and he needs to cool down and let nature grow back again around him, and I’m showing him I’m willing to help. It seems to resolve as light opens in the sky, and a tree starts to grow again… At the end, I seem to connect the scene to certain memories.
                      There is another one that comes in, where the ape is doing a certain pose where it walks on its hands. The posture catches my attention, as if to remind me of something. I’m encouraged to turn around to see the world as it sees it. As I do it, the world changes and spins, and the music starts to indicate the end of the trip. I thank the animals and finish with the snake before leaving…
                      the end
                      well, it’s very condensed, there was lots happening
                      It’s like I was doing many stuff at the same time

                      Flove
                      (no recollection)

                      Jib
                      I have difficulties stabilizing my attention first, there is this kind of veiled perception I’ve been having lately. As I call my power animal for soul recovery I have a strong impression of a bear and then a raven. There is a kind of snake too, and I also feel a wild boar. I refocus back on the whale and say I’ll come back later. The whale leads me in the depth of the earth to a magma chamber. It becomes scrambled again and I just take a moment to refocus on my penguin.
                      First soul recovery
                      I ask him to find the piece of soul that would be best for me to recover now, and we go fly above something. The penguin flies like a rocket, super fast. I soon find a kid feeling presence. I have no real visual, and I keep having visuals of lemur, or raccoon interfering.
                      Then I feel that the presence is also camouflaging behind projections to be left alone. He left me when I was little, around 8 because the world seemed to disappointing. I have some difficulties at first to convince him to come back with me, and I show him what I’m already doing that’s fun and that’s worth doing and exploring. After a while, he agrees and I feel a nice warm feeling inside my belly as he is reintegrating me. I thank him for coming back. The only thing I need to do is take the time to reassure myself when the world seems too dangerous.
                      Visiting the bear and the raven
                      Then I decide to go back visit the bear and the raven.
                      I’ve already seen them before and they seem to be there for me. There is an impression of power with the bear and also mother here for her kids. With the raven, it’s more a mystical stuff, and the power of observation and seeing through things.
                      I am offered a kind of raven skull symbol of power and energy manipulation staff or something like that. I take it and it feels quite powerful, I have the impression the energy or the “spirits” would follow it when I demand it. Like make blocked energy move.
                      Second soul recovery
                      I decide to do a second soul recovery and ask the whale to lead me. I have the impression of changing plane, the focus is different, I am more on the middle world, and we go somewhere icy like Antarctic. Maybe near a shipwreck. There is a man, depressed and gloomy. I begin to ask him why he’s here, but he seems to want to come back and don’t ask anything. I feel very warm and loving. The drums begin to beat the return and I thank everyone for participating and come back. Saying I’ll take time to assimilate.
                      Eric’s account remind me of a few stuff
                      that reminded me a few stuff too because at one time I had to follow a spider and with the raven I flew over a magma land and the raven became a phoenix to be able to fly because it was so hot
                      thanks I forgot that

                      Tracy
                      went down the stone steps, the unicorns on the left looked up as I passed. Zebra joined me from the right, said thanks but forgot his name! Then a white bear joined me, said his name was Waldo (or at least that name would do for now, impression)
                      He was huge but was very light on his feet the whole time. Came to a tall tree with a single very red apple on it. The white bear scampered up the tree and I followed. Various other fruit but mainly the red apple stood out.
                      At the top of the tree leveled out to a large plaza with gameboard design, the white bear demonstrated frolicking from one part to another playfully leaping in lightness.
                      Flash to me as a small child being woken up in the night by concerned parents for nasty medicine for chicken pox.
                      Same house but in the field behind, me as a small child alone by the wigwam of sticks dad made, frowning, alone. Next door to the neighbours pond, frozen over. White bear kept dancing on the thin ice part that we didn’t skate on, huge heavy bear, such a light step didn’t break the ice
                      Zebra was hanging around incidentally, kept feeling reassuring warm breath and muzzle on my shoulder. Breathing restrictions started, left the pond, down a path in the woods, came to a fork. Went left ~ papers everywhere, letters, words, snowed under with words and letters, monkeys pulling sheafs and sheafs of letters and papers and words.
                      Then a school of tiny silver fishes swan inside me and started chomping at all the letters in my solar plexus and spewing out coloured threads and ribbons from my mouth.
                      Breathing difficult. (several times just sank into intense colours for awhile with no imagery, plenty purple and green). I started doing sort of swimming motions with my arms with the breathing and fishes, had a sudden blast of energy in the chest and then later a much stronger one just before the video ended.
                      I should add the impression of less thinking/intellectualizing, less buried under a mountain of words, in favour of more purely physical expression

                      #3278
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        Terry had always been sort of a follower type of person. The trouble was when her friends were going in two different directions, or like now in one direction and one stay-still. Which one should she follow ? Consuela was a small dot of plancton in the immensity of the ocean, and yet she dared launch herself in the unknown. The others were sticking together, kinda. Sadie was desperately trying to send messages or to receive instructions, it wasn’t very clear, and Maurana was pouting since Consuela was gone.

                        That’s not a real profession, Amar, she got startled when she heard her dad’s voice as if he was just behind. She turned with a jerk of her right hip, but no sign of him.

                        That was as if she’d been stung by a bee. She’s been waiting all her life, now she wanted to move. Without warning to her friends, she began to follow the trail of bubbles left by Consuela. The others could follow if they wanted, but she wouldn’t left her friend alone in the dark water.

                        #3139
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Pseu’s project was to provide connecting links between focuses of “Big Daddy” Benedict’s attention at any point in the shift chapter book, a sort of Oversoul 8 in some ways, but operating in a more physical manner, like a time traveller from the future, but she was neither and both of those things and more. Pseu Dan was pioneering a new type of Scope of Attention Pool (SOAP for short), and was appearing fully physical (as well as fully non physical in others) in a number of times and places simultaneously. Her area of particular interest was, however, developing more efficient links with the capability of transporting physical matter as well as energetic information, as desired. As well, Pseu was developing an energy field of un noteworthyness, so that she could participate physically without difficulty, but with a sort of cape of invisibility energy rendering her physical presence (or physical disappearance at times) to be completely unremarkable and unregistered objectively. To Cedric and Jacques, she was visible and familiar, but to the others she appeared merely as a sort of stage prop or scene populator. Sadie, though, ah well, that was a different story.

                          #2461

                          Peackle dragged his father by the sleeve and showed him the delirious aunt speaking in tongues.

                          See, dad, I think she got that special direct line with the Eight’s Dimension now…
                          Oh, I see… a broken Pee said

                          Their victory over Mother Blubbit seemed utterly and bitterly Pyrrhic at the moment, considering all the nonsense (damned be the Eighth Dimension) their trip has brought to otherwisely very non-nonsensical Peasland. Would they ever get back to normal again?

                          He preferred to believe she’d just again overindulged on Peaskol, the famoul (famously foul) alcohol brewed from overripe peas known though all Peasland to clean old clogged pipes. That and smoking tea leaves of course…

                          #2383

                          SOON IT WILL BE REVEALED!” thundered Pickel.

                          The others, after recovering from their shock, looked at Pickel in surprise.

                          “What are you on about boy?” asked Pee.

                          Pickel was as confused as the others. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “It just came from .. no where…”

                          “Well keep it down will you, you will scare the bird we are taking to the Keeper of the Portal, whose name eludes me but he has a long beard and is old and arthritic, in order to get the bird to sing 4 notes, no more and no less, in order to open the portal and get to ED and save New Peasland from the plague of the Blubbits.”

                          Pee was feeling a need to clarify. Not for the first time he was wondering if volunteering for this dangerous mission had been wise. He fortified himself with the thought of Mungibbs.

                          “What are Mungibbs, Daddy?” asked Silly.

                          Pickel was quiet. He could feel the silver object burning a hole in his pocket.

                          #2358

                          “At least the witch didn’t say my voice was bossy for once” Pee was always finding comfort in the little satisfactions of life.

                          “Dad! I want to come with you!” Pickel, their young son was rather keen on the prospect to walk in the footsteps of his father, no matter how notoriously difficult to follow they were.

                          #2646

                          In reply to: Strings of Nines

                          One thing led to another, as it tends to do, while Sanso sat meditating on the enigma of The Dead Cow. Random and seemingly disjointed images flashed through his mind, not unlike a random google had been back in the old days, the first being an odd word, Kogaionon . Accessing further information, Sanso discovered that it was an ancient Transylvaniun skull. The link between the dead cow and the skull was clear ~ it was a bone sync, they both had bones, there was no denying it. Encouraged, Sanso continued to meditate.

                          :crystal-skull:

                          After some images of a battle at sea , presumably Trafalgar, Sanso intuitively felt, he heard the words “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Wise words, he thought, and appropriate too. He popped these snippets into his indigo clue bag and continued to meditate. An image of a strange creature, half fish and half lion appeared next, a Merlion, which quickly morphed into an entertaining old movie playing across the screen of his minds eye, so to speak, in which someone who reminded him of Becky arrived in Paris during a rainstorm with just the clothes on her back ~ and interesting clothes they were, too! Sanso was glued to the screen, in a manner of speaking, and watched with amusement as a whole new wardrobe was delivered to the puzzled woman, followed by her mysterious benefactor: Georges.

                          Well, fancy Georges turning up again like that! Sanso was delighted. Perhaps Georges could shed some light on the mystery of the Dead Cow Blocking the Cave Entrance.

                          Sanso returned to his meditation and found himself eavesdropping on a conversation.

                          — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
                          — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds — worlds that he has no conception of yet.
                          Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.
                          — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
                          — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

                          “Their meeting is not coincidental” Sanso repeated to himself, popping it into his clue bag. “Well, I don’t know about Meanings, but at least I have a new bag of clues now!”

                          #1183

                          Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.

                          She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.

                          Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.

                          She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.

                          She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
                          A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.

                          Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”

                          Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”

                          #1045

                          Anita knew there was not much time, although there was the perfect amount of time.

                          She had seen in her meditation a secret passageway, a cave under a pool and two people going there, guided by some inner knowledge. All she had to do was to convince her parents to go there with her.
                          And perhaps they’ll be able to come back in their own time in 2038, and not in this past configuration thirty years too early.

                          “Dad… Dad…”
                          “Mmmm… What sweetie? Where are the others?”
                          “Not far. Dad, wake up mum, and come with me, I’ll show you…”

                          #1766

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Tracy’s Dad sent her this link on dangerous roads which synchs with my dream last night of my trip to see the purple stone. As she pointed :yahoo_loser: out, one of the NZ roads, which is very similar to the dream picture, is contributed by “beesknees”

                            #689
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
                              Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
                              And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

                              What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
                              Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
                              Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
                              Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
                              Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
                              Yes, Mum.

                              What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
                              This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
                              At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

                              A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
                              She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

                              And she had more pressing matters now.
                              Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
                              But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

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