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  • #1726

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      this one is a synch because it suddenly popped into my head “big synch” then next second on the news was this story

      and i sort of thought about posting it then thought “oh bit stupid don’t need to post every damn thing” .. then i noticed a lady surname Finn wrote the article so i decided i would …. synch or no synch .. pretty cool anyway, biggest building in the world and like a dragon too.

      I am noticing that often … thought …. then synch … for example today in cafe i saw man who was in my dream again … i didn’t see him at first and then when I did, and thought “dream” … his friend at that moment said “I had a dream blah blah blah” (the conversation sounded quite weirdo, a bit like i would imagine us sounding if we were talking in a cafe and someone was eavesdropping)

      #756

      Franiel awoke, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He stretched, and slowly adjusted to his waking state. He wondered how long he had slept, it was quiet and dark. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel that dawn was not far away. The ghost hour.

      He must have slept for hours.

      Remembering Leonard he looked around and softly called out. There was no reply, and unless Leonard was sleeping, Franiel was alone. “Aye” he sighed, and finding the blanket from his pack, fashioned it into a tent over his head and took shelter in it. It was nearly day, another day.

      Thinking of his encounter with Leonard, the strange dancing and especially the sweet taste of the nectar, Franiel reached into his pack again to retrieve the chalice.

      It is no longer there

      Franiel was not quite sure if he heard a voice utter these words, or if it was just a strange sense of knowing. He still felt around, taking out each item carefully and methodically, emptying the pack, not really wanting to believe the chalice has gone, nor to consider what the implications of this loss might be.

      Perhaps he did not put the chalice back in the pack after all? He crawled around his surrounds, squinting into the half light of the morning, feeling the dew damp ground. Deciding to trust what he knew in his heart already he sat back and quietly watched as the sky eventually flushed brilliant crimson.

      Red sky in the morning. A warning ….it is only weather words but ….

      Reluctant to consider his options, he instead considered some dandelions, how luminous they looked in the morning light.

      #755

      — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

      — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

      — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

      — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

      — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

      — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

      — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

      — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

      — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

      — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

      — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

      — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

      — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

      — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

      — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

      — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

      — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

      — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

      — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

      — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

      — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

      — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

      — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

      #754
      EricEric
      Keymaster

        In the sparsely furnished room that V’ass had allocated him on the small building next to the clinic, Gabriele Ferrari, local Eastern Arch-Agent for the Confregation, was lying bare-chest on his bed. Despite the heat outside, the dark hair on his chest, and the lack of air-conditioning in the room, he was not sweating —the result of a total control on his chakras, a training the completion of which constituted the first requirement in accessing to the upper echelon of Arch-Agent.

        That Agent V was promising, he could tell. She was still a bit wayward and impulsive in her decisions, but spontaneity was an asset in their job. Mmm, better not get distracted now. Plan B was at stake.

        :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

        A few years before, Roma, Italy, at The Confregation Headquarters

        — I’m afraid this Dr B. isn’t very reliable. We got reports from the investigations you commissioned on his past, and upon further study of his Internet connections that we…
        — Spare me the details, Agent W.
        — Yes Principate, sorry Principate.
        — Thing is he has shown some mental instabilities, and early signs of schizophrenia.
        — Mmm… We both know schizophrenia is just a pathological sign of accessing other aspects of self… Nothing that can’t be dealt with with appropriate measures.
        — Yes Principate
        — Agent W, you know what is as stake, right?
        — Err…
        — Let me explain to you very clearly and simply Agent W. The artifact that we arranged for Dr B. to find and access the information sealed into it, this artifact, Agent W, is of utmost importance. That artifact is of course well encapsulated into the computer machinery we have provided the Doctor unbeknown to him… It is thus very important that you ensure the good progression of these works. But, despite his… de-ranged mind, as you may say… Dr B. is a brilliant scientist, and his works must proceed at all cost. If need be, send him a local agent to make sure of that.
        — Yes Principate.

        :fleuron2:

        Principate Haniel was quite concerned.
        It was a mere handful of years that thanks to the progress of computers they had managed to decipher parts of the encoded informations. The crystal skull that the Confregation had retrieved centuries ago from the greed and ignorance of Crusaders had waited long before they could start to be privy of its secrets. Centuries of patience would not be thwarted by mere negligence.
        Strangely the information they had deciphered were related to genetic encodings. The genome decryption of most of Earth species had not yet matched the pattern that was found inside the chunk of information until very recently, in an unexpected breed of spiders…

        Hoperfully Agent W would take the appropriate measures, Principate Haniel smiled ethereally. She would see to that.

        :fleuron2:

        Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

        — Agent V.
        — Agent W. Arch-Agent G.
        — We’ve be summoning you for some urgent matter that requires a local assistance. Arch-Agent G. here has advised that your service would be the most appropriate for this delicate matter. Are you aware of the dossier Operation Spider ?
        — Yes Agent W. Arch-Agent G has most kindly forwarded to me the details.
        — You’ll be leaving for the island at the end of the week, after you’ve been briefed on the most sensitive details.
        — Details Agent W? I thought everything was in the dossier?
        — There is a backup plan that has been devised from our best advised consultagents. Let’s call it Plan B for the moment. B as Bee-hive.
        — Very well Agent W.

        #1899
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          The wolf in Cuthberts dream came from the Dreaming Methods bulletin received yesterday. Dreaming Methods is the website connected to Bill Johnson ( Bill Jobsworth connection in the story; the itinerant artist), the Yorkshire stone head carver.

          #751

          Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

          Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

          If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

          Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

          Silence.

          Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

          Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

          He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

          She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

          I am worried about you, Chris.

          He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

          Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

          She took a deep breath.

          I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

          Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

          Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

          #750
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

            Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

            Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

            It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

            She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

            She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

            Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

            It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

            Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

            Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

            The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

            An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

            She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

            What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

            I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

            perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

            She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

            #749

            Malika and her dog Leo stood at the entrance of the cave and was so excited to see the little draggies, she screamed with joy… and sent such loving, tender energy into the cave that all the little draggies came out to play with her and Leo, and familiarize themselves with each other. There was a mother dragon that resided inside the cave and as Malvina put her head inside the entrance, she was met with a smile, from the mother of whom was sitting atop a purplish egg.

            The Mother Dragon introduced herself as Glordieoun…and said, softly, that this cave was a portal to her world, and a birthing chamber for all mother dragons, that were to be stationed there. It was a pregnancy chamber, a hatching chamber and a childcare chamber, that served the little draggies until they were able to fly themselves, and all the other attributes were in place, for them to be independent.

            Glordieoun, said, that she was a bit tired and required some rest, but that she was glad that Malika finally found her way to the house, as her and all her people, knew they were now in safe and caring hands.

            #746

            My God, what the fuck is that?

            Veranassessee sighed, seeing the two plump lady on top of one another, lying sprawled all fours on the ground, with the door blown out in shards.

            Untie me Gabriele, so that I can ask for the nurse’s help. she said reluctantly to her partner, seeing with a bit of dolefulness, the effect of their strange erotic games already waning off.

            — Are you alright ladies?
            — Oh, I guess so, Vessie, sorry to have interrupted, we thought…
            — Yes, yes… Veranassessee was feeling oddly detached from the women’s babbled and muddled excuses, and even more detached from her own sloppy appearance.
            All she could think at the moment was that she seemed fated to marry Mahiliki, and get loads of children on Fukitupi, a doom that hovered on her head like a rapacious magpie over a precious gemstone…
            Good thing she was so gorgeous she would look great even wearing a potatoes sack. Sure Gabriele had noticed that already…

            Arch-Agent Gabriele came back, telling her he had called nurse Bellamy on the intercom, and she would be here in a minute.
            I’ll go to my room dear, we’ll talk later about Barbella. he said casually, a convenient code for “plan B” between them two.
            Professional as he was, he had also, V’ass noticed, as the women were untangling themselves, made the box and the silky rope very stealthily disappear.

            Sure, they would have more time in the evening. But now, she noticed she’d been a bit too lax on the security around the new guests. Fine that Dr Bronkelhampton’s recommendations were to have the patients free for the first months of their treatments (after all, the more drastic transformations never occurred before the thirteenth week), but she had to be more careful about them.
            She could not have them compromise “plan B”.

            B as Barbella… or rather…
            B as Bee-hive.

            :fleuron:

            — Did you hear like me, Glo?
            — I think so, Sha
            — What’s that Barbiella, Glo?
            — Barbella, Sha, barbella, like barbell… Could be a woman’s name…
            — Poor Vessie seemed so annoyed by the incident…
            — Yes Sha, we have to help her somewhat, if we want her to forgive us
            — Sure, we’ll find something to do, Glo.
            — Yes… I don’t like that Barbella. Perhaps it’s the man’s…
            Gabriele
            — Yes, Sha, Gabriele —does sound Italian, doesn’t it?
            — I was about to tell you Glo
            — Perhaps that’s Gabriele’s wife…
            — Or some kinky sadomasochistic practice we never heard of…
            — Rhooo, Sha, chuckled Gloria, who was thinking of Veranassessee’s dress and wrists tying games…

            #741
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Elvira was tucking into some reindeer stew left over from Becky and Sean’s wedding when she telepathically tuned into Becky’s distress signal. Chewing thoughtfully, Elvira tried to make sense of the visual imagery she was receiving. She seemed to be getting a mixed message; was it a nun, or was it a tart? She reminded herself to trust her impressions, and not discount them even if they seemed incongruous or unlikely, and accepted that Becky was indeed in some kind of tarty nun trouble. The question was, where was Becky.

              Elvira pushed her empty plate away, and focused on the situation. AHA! Nutley Park, 25th bush on the left.

              Boris, I’m going out, she said. Becky’s in a spot of tarty nun trouble in Nutley park.

              Right Ho, dear, shall I come and help?

              Another image of popped into Elvira’s head of the see-through black mini dress. Er, no Boris, I’ll handle this myself.

              And with that, Elvira, sprightly old crone that she was (and fortified with mushroom laced reindeer stew) bustled off to hail a gondola cab, carrying a large carpet bag containing a selection of hastily chosen clothing.

              #734

              That’s when she heard a little voice… not really in her head, the voice was like coming from under the space tissue.

              Dear RATS… Thou canst do it thyself. Let the power of the Snooshrooms flow through thy skin.

              — Who’s there? asked Becky anxiously… is it the Snoot? What are the smooshnools? I don’t want any more skin problem, don’t do anything!!!

              Becky was feeling a bit drowsy again. She was tired of sleeping though and managed to get rid of this feeling.

              She got startled by her cell phone, it was vibrating furiously now… oh no, just a picture message from Sam.

              https://www.northrup.org/Photos/Kangaroo/low/kangaroo-laying8.jpg

              With that distraction she lost grip of herself for a few seconds… and when she woke up she was feeling her head like heavy… how god!!!! what the f…

              #724

              Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

              If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

              Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

              Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

              #723
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                Piotr had a strange dream. His cousin was gone with a weird man… or was it a man?
                Harasho (Good) that she was eventually gone. She wouldn’t have to meet Grishenka again. And he knew that they would eventually reach the place they were heading to

                His family and the villagers had always thought that he was kind of nut. But at the age of 12, Piotr was quite aware of what was happening around, and beyond. He wasn’t just interested in telling the others. They didn’t want to know.

                #715

                Several days later, when the wedding celebrations had finished, nobody could remember anything about it, other than the jokes and poems. In true Russian custom, there had been ample alcohol…well, more than ample, there had been several hospital admissions from alcohol poisoning, drunken brawls and accidents.

                Becky swallowed another aspirin, recalling one of the jokes that Sam had told.

                As a Lord Wrick was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang.

                Sam continued: Answering, he heard the mummy’s voice urgently warning him, “Wrick, I just heard on the news that there’s a car going the wrong way on the M4. Please be careful!”

                “It’s not just one car,” said Wrick, “It’s hundreds of them!”

                Sheesh, sighed Becky.

                As she poured herself another mug of coffee, a limerick popped into to her head.

                There was an Old Crone with a beard,
                Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!
                Two Owls and a Lynx,
                And a Rabbit in Pink,
                Have all built their nests in my beard!’

                Who had told that one, was it Sean? Becky smiled wanly as another one popped into her head.

                There was an Old Abbot whose habits,
                Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
                When he’d eaten eighteen,
                He turned perfectly green,
                Upon which he relinquished those habits.

                The toast popped up, and as Becky buttered it she remembered a joke of Al’s.

                Most dentists chairs go up and down, don’t they? Al asked the wedding guests.
                The one I was in went back and forwards.
                I thought, “This is unusual.”
                The dentist said to me, “Al, get out of the filing cabinet.”

                #714
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  oh fuck, I am sorry Becky, I don’t know if I will be able to be head witness at your wedding, said Tina weakly a few minutes later, I feel terrible! Did you just bear hug me by the way? It is hard to tell over the phone, but I thought I felt a blast of your energy.

                  #711
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Oh, Thank Flove for that! exclaimed Becky delightedly, when she looked in the bathroom mirror on the morning of her wedding. The Siberian Blue Mud treatment worked!

                    WOW! said Becky as she peered at her reflection. It’s made me look fantastic!

                    Indeed, her skin was glowing like a summer peach. She smiled happily and sighed a deep sigh of contentment. She was glad she’d chosen Tina to be the Head Witness for the Russian style wedding ceremony. She knew she could trust her to carry out the ritual joke and poem telling with aplomb. Al and Sam would make great witnesses too. She couldn’t wait to hear their jokes and poems at the wedding party.

                    Becky giggled, And Sean will love all the drinking.

                    #1898
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
                      tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
                      tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
                      tjmarshall57: veils
                      tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
                      tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
                      tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
                      tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
                      tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
                      tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
                      tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
                      tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
                      tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
                      tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
                      tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

                      Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

                      tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
                      tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
                      tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
                      tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
                      tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
                      tjmarshall57:
                      tjmarshall57: another part for you!
                      tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
                      tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
                      tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
                      tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
                      tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
                      tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
                      tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
                      tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
                      tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
                      tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
                      tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
                      tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
                      tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
                      franci_free: oh hrllo
                      franci_free: goodness
                      franci_free: will need to read back
                      tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
                      franci_free: well what a complicated theme
                      tjmarshall57: haahah well
                      franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
                      tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
                      franci_free: hahahah
                      franci_free: great!
                      tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
                      franci_free:
                      tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
                      tjmarshall57: the red fruit
                      tjmarshall57: the time of year
                      tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
                      franci_free: the splotches?
                      tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
                      tjmarshall57: afterwards

                      #1690

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Oxshift :yahoo_rofl:

                        ahem, well for my latest synchs:

                        I followed numberplate J533 into town this morning.

                        Lemon synchs please see my previous comment well … i finally threw out the last of these lemons I had stored in my fridge yesterday, and thought fondly of the whole lemon synch thing. Then I noticed today that Tracy had posted the lemon tree song again in her ramblings thread. A short time later I picked up the local hawkes bay newspaper in order to peruse it, and saw that the whole front page was a picture of Noel Lucas (we don’t know him, I just include his name for accuracy) and a big heading A ZEST FOR THE BEST. Noel was holding up a lemon, which looked to be about as big as his head. It weighed 756gms.

                        Apparently on Jan 12th there was a story of a 600gm lemon (unfortunately I missed this story .. as you can see our local newspaper is full of riveting news …) and now a lemon war has started as lemon growers vie for the biggest lemon.

                        Noel has never fertilized his lemons and attributes it to climate changes. He has lived in the same house same house since 1983 and this is the biggest crop ever.

                        Director of the Lemon marketing board believes the bumper crop is due to an “evolutionary leap.” hahahaha

                        I think this is also a Nadia synch, biggest baby, biggest lemon… oh and also Hercules the biggest dog.

                        #702

                        There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                        It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                        A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                        Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                        Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                        A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                        Oh! Who’s there?

                        A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                        Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                        Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                        Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                        Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                        Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                        I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                        What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                        Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                        Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                        Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                        Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                        Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                        Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                        She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                        Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                        Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                        Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                        #695
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Zhanochka ran until she could run no more, and then she collapsed into a heap on the ground. Birch trees shimmered against the watery blue sky abover her head and before long her eyes had fluttered and closed.

                          Moments later she smiled. Nishanti, she whispered. You’re here.

                          Zhanochka slept soundly where she had slipped to the ground, sprawled on the tussocky grass beneath the trees, her sleeves still pushed up over her elbows and a smile on her lips.

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