Search Results for 'recall'

“Old Leonard teafed Franiel’s chalice
Though t’was done without any malice
It was nowt but a clue,
Not a chore he must do
And the same thing applied to the phallus”

While Becky shivered in the rain sodden bush waiting for Elvira, the connection to the Kuzhebarian laughing monk was getting stronger, and she amused herself recalling the latest developments in the Reality Play in Limerick form.

India Louise , standing in the draughty upstairs hallway outside Bill the artist’s bedroom, jumped out of her skin as Nanny Gibbon rushed down from her room on the third floor shouting, OCH AYE THE NOO! There’s a moose loose aboot the hoose!

Nanny Gibbon stopped abruptly when she saw India Louise.

Och, lassie, and what are you doing here in the wee hours of the night?

Er…..India had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell Nanny that she was hoping to tell Bill about the mummy that she and Eugenia had found in the unlocked ‘Locked Room’, so she said: There was a moose in my room! It went that way! she said, pointing up the stairs from which Nanny Gibbon had just descended.

OCH! The hoose is infested with moose! What’ll we doooo?

India Louise looked up at Nanny Gibbon quizzically. What was with all the ‘Och Aye’s’? Nanny was from Brittany, not Glasgow, what was the matter with her? Then India recalled the Scottish Dialect classes that Nanny had been attending…..obviously with a good deal of success.

The truth was that Nanny Gibbon was terrified of mice (which is how non-Scots pronounce moose); she suspected a reincarnational drama involving moose, er, mice, was the root of it all.

India was trying to think of something helpful to say (and congratulating herself on her quick thinking, although she regretted adding to Nanny’s alarm) when a shriek came from the direction of Cuthbert’s bedroom.

Nanny and India Louise raced along the corridor and banged on Cuthbert’s door.

OCH AYE, what NOO? Are ye alright, ma wee bairn? Open the dooor, Cuthbert! Nanny cried.

A pale trembling Cuthbert opened the door. I had an awful nightmare! I was reading our book, you know, the funny one with the blank pages, and I turned into a wolf

Och, there, there, ma wee laddie, there’s nay a wolf in the hoose, it’s a moose!

Cuthbert looked up at Nanny and said, rather rudely, Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?

The cave was silent, except for the sounds of water springing from one of the wall.
The night was long and full of dreams. Georges and Salome were here since a few weeks now, and the were spending a lot of time with Malvina, talking about many things from different places that Irtak had never heard of. One was called New York City, another was called Vienna, another was the Smoo Cave and there were so many more… Malvina seemed to know most of them. That was the first time he ever wondered how old she could be. Since his arrival here, it had never come to his mind that she could be “old”. He knew she was wiser than most of the Elders, but she seemed so young.

She had magic. Maybe that was the key to her youth.

He felt Heckle and Jeckle stretching their attention in their dream state. Their bodies were lying together on the warm sandy floor, and their light bodies were playing around. He could see them flickering in and out of the room. He could follow them if he wanted, but his mind was full of the places their guests had described.

Georges and Salome were lying on an improvised bed, made of a snoot fur on the warm sandy floor. He was holding her tenderly. Their energy gently merged in a single movement. They were fully opened to one another and Salome was creating an inner landscape for them both to play in. Sam’s body was lying nearby, and her spirit was frolicking around in this inner landscape.

They were sitting in the center of a clearing, at night time. The sky was full of stars and Georges did recognized the sky of the Murtuane. An owl was hooting not far away, sated after her hunt. They could feel her contentment, the hunt was good, several big mice tonight…

Malvina was with them, and appreciating of the environment. She had had few occasions of going to the Murtuane herself. Even though she was so close, living on the Duane, its planetary sister.

— Where are we exactly? asked Malvina.
— Not so far away from the purple beach of Kandulim where Jarvis once came. Jarvis is a focus of Georges. And he surprised me once… Salome recalled that event with amusement.
Georges grinned widely and chuckled.
— Yes, I can remember.

Malvina sighed with relief.
— You are aware that my sisters are coming soon to the cave.
— Yes, we could feel the calling, so to speak. This is the crossroad of many probabilities, and it is connected to many, though not as spread as the shift in “our” dimension is or was, depending on when you project your attention.
It was Malvina’s turn to grin now.
— Yes, I am aware. It will be soon time for us to move the cave into another location.

SPOTCH

OH! THAT’S WHERE YOU THREE HAVE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? INTERESTING ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR PSYCHE. THOUGH I PREFER MY CAVE.

SPOOTCH

Sam got on her legs and barked, quite surprised by this sudden blinking in and out of the dragon.

— HAHAHA, we didn’t even have the time to seem surprised. said Georges. Lëormn was quick. And he likes being in himself.

Salome got on her feet and stroked Sam playfully. The dog was licking her face with affection, and stopped suddenly. She seemed to have heard something.

The owl hooted again.

— My sisters are closer than what I first thought. This owl is an aspect of Oorlaith. Malvina’s gaze became distant for a few seconds. She won’t come tonight with us, though she gives you her fond appreciation. She’s currently busy with a man you already know… Leonard. Another one like yourself
Salome raised one eyebrow.
— Leonard his here too? That’s an interesting information things won’t be dull with him if I dare say so.
— I think he’s got a crush on her. He’s doing some stuffs for her at times… and he’s still with his dog.
Sam barked a few times, waggling her tail and Georges grinned.
— You remember Moufle, eh!? Well, do you know where you’re going Malvina?

She looked at him intensely and then at Salome.
— You might be surprised.

After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

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.”

Georges and Salome’s journal

From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part II

We first met in a series of dreams. I realized we were planning that even before we objectively took our decision with Salome to travel to this dimension, since in the dreams I was recalling previous encounters with him. Shu-Lom was a focus of Blöhmul, and Blöhmul was in many ways connected to this particular travel.

In the dreams we were meeting in a sort of semi spherical place, surrounded by 12 gates. The floor was composed of several materials, and the pattern was quite similar to the portal we used to travel to this dimension though a bit different as it included other aspect-tiles of the Jorid.

One of them was the diapason, vibrating between them both, and the compass was imprinted on the spherical ceiling, moving slowly like a starry night sky. The central triangle was showing some blended colorful energy patterns, changing with the orientation of their discussion.

— Each gate is connected with the others, was saying the Guardian, and you can use them to go wherever you want on the 3 planets. We created their physical manifestations, though they are not physical in the first place. The twelve gates are our representation of our own essence families in this dimension. I can tell you the names by which we call them if you want…

My silent acquiescing was enough, and as he was telling me the names, each corresponding gate was activated until they were all illuminating the room with their iridescent colors.

Part III

The preys weren’t so easy to catch. Phurt had some difficulties after they had fallen from the sky, destroying a nest in the process. Most of her sisters were upset and would have killed both of them at once, but Narani had insisted : they had to be kept alive.

The female was the most aggressive, she was shouting and struggling, she managed to knock out 2 of them, they were youngsters, but nonetheless experienced huntresses. The male was hurt. Phurt was surprised at how bigger than the female he was. Most unusual she had thought then… When she had told that to Narani, she had just breathed quicker to show her amusement. Narani was wise and old… very old. Maybe it was time for her to let another sister take her place.

Phurt froze in anguish, she was most astonished by her thoughts. Something definitely weird was happening. Was it what she had sensed before the arrival of the preys? It was changing her from inside. She had to hide this part of herself to her sisters. Narani had never been challenged, there was no recalling of any such event. Narani was the memory of her sisters. Nothing was hidden to her… until now.

Something had changed in the vibration of the collective of her sisters. Narani had felt the modification of the flow since the arrival of that human device. Her sisters had only found 2 humans, a female and her male. There should have been a cub. The mother was still smelling her offspring.

Narani hadn’t tell that to her sisters, they wouldn’t understand. Though the threat that Phurt had felt before their arrival… the threat was from this particular child.

Ok, let’s add some more synchs then

When I wrote comment 508 in Malvina’s story, it was not specifically about skulls… but I recall the strong attraction I had toward the word “moaning” when Jarvis took his head in his hands… I didn’t write it down though but it was the meaning of it. That’s for the picture of the Skull in Dusky Moana

Yesterday, I had the impression of Sam also… after the unexpected visit of a friend who’s going to London today, I had the desire to write a comment about Sam receiving that visit, and this desire was coming over and over, along with the desire to write a comment about Andrimiñ… but I couldn’t find how to shape them. So I’m letting that go for now.

Well now, for you Francie, here is the flyman picture

How is it? Well don’t look at the framing of the pic and other details

And looking at the diamond skull, it really could have been in the latest Madonna concert :))))

Quite a few syncs here too, highlighted by F & T’s conversations…

• Eight and insects, …
  8 peoples registered, 880 comments, and 8 posts in the last 24 hours, was wondering about the 8 that I found appearing recently.

Tracy: Funny sync Eric! Because today, my ear whistled, and I recalled my old Aunt Norah’s little saying
when your ear whistles, think of a number, I always thought of 8…

Speaking of ear, Francie dreamt of earwigs, while I was dreaming of a big insect dissection… And Tracy had insects in a Chinese movie she was watching too…

• … magpies augury…

One for sorrow, two for mirth,
Three for a wedding, four for a birth,
Five for silver, six for gold,
Seven for a secret not to be told.
Eight for heaven , nine for hell,
And ten for the devil’s own sel’.

(see this link or this one for more details)

• … and children’s stories

While we were discussing the Finckle Four with Francie and old children books by Enid Blyton, Becky finally found her books: The Magic Faraway Tree ,… by Enid Blyton.
I remembered I was climbing a tree in a dream tonight… But syncs don’t stop here:

• The children names are Jo, Bessie, Fanny and Dick (originally). In modern reprints, the names of the children have been changed – from Jo, Bessie and Fanny to Joe, Beth and Frannie. From wikipedia: in the first case to make it clear that Jo is a boy, in the second because Bessie is seldom used as a nickname for Elizabeth anymore (most would go by Beth, Liz or Lizzie), and in the third because Fanny is a slang term for vulva in the United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand. Cousin Dick, who appears in “The Magic Faraway Tree”, has his name changed to “Rick” in new editions, presumably for similar reasons.

Wow, we’re in there

• There is the Angry Pixie, and an owl, who lives near the Angry Pixie’s…

• And also, In V for Vendetta, V is shown reading the child’s book to Evey, and alludes to “The Land of Do-As-You-Please” and “The Land of Take-What-You-Want” over the course of the book… The sync is that Yurick found the graphic novel in Gustav’s home, and while reading it, found similarities with V and mummy Four , both being subjects of experiments… In the novel, there is a moving letter featured, by a certain Valerie, who is born in 1957 — click —…

He did recall his name in a dream. Jarvis.
A strange dream actually.
There was that woman… whose name he couldn’t recall though.
Her face was beautiful but he hadn’t felt any sexual attraction toward her… it was different, like he knew her.
Well, with his memory loss, he possibly knew her, someone close assuredly.
She was asking questions about this land he had beached on… and in the dream it appeared he knew many details, again that he couldn’t recall now he was awake.
It was more like a legend, not facts.
But now it was quite real to him.
It’s been 2 days since he opened his eyes on this purple beach, and he’s been busy collecting driftwood to make a fire. He didn’t dare venture into the forest, and if the legends about the inhabitants of Kandulim were true, he wasn’t welcome here.

Wow he was feeling dizzy. His head was pounding repeatedly like one of the vangor drums. He dropped the twigs he had collected on the sand and took his head in his hands. The pounding was so loud that he began crying.

A flash, a soft feminine face surrounded by a fiery red hair and blue liquid eyes. She was smiling at him.
The pounding ceased at once, and he just had the time to see a movement in the forest. All was still now. His mind would suggest it was a hallucination fostered by that head ache… if his thoughts weren’t so scattered.

Who was in that vision? Who was in the forest?
Was it the woman in his dream?

He began to recall the strange vision he had before awakening on this beach.

Illi woke up with a start. Phew, what a nightmare! Dusty trunks full of grinning crystal skulls, farting mummys blowing bubbles in the sea, huge omelettes in colours she couldn’t name, and UGGHH, Becky shuddered as she recalled that awful blue spider ‘health’ treatment…..

Al must have had insomnia, thought Becky, as she reviewed the Reality Play Updates in her emailbox. I wonder what he was doing up at 5:00am? Becky had done nothing but sleep for days. She had woken up in the night a few times, once dreaming of Roswell, and once of Galicia. Hhhmm, she wondered, I don’t know why, and boy do I wish I had better dream recall!

Young Becky shouted to Dan, Dory’s coming back! She sent an email saying she arrives in Malaga tomorrow night!

In actuality, Becky had already known that Dory would be coming back soon. Despite being only a child, she was what would later be known as a Shiftikid, and her telepathic prowess was already well-developed. Well, in point of fact, all children had been born with telepathic skills, all throughout the ages, but the customs of the times had eradicated these gifts usually before the children reached puberty.

The young Becky had been in communication with ‘the dead guys’ as they were currently affectionately known, since before her birth. Thanks to all the links on Dory’s computer, Becky had quickly assessed that she herself was Sumari belonging, and Ilda aligned; of an intermediate orientation, and a political focus. She recalled from before her actual physical birth that she had chosen ‘Exploring Connections’ as her intent for this physical focus.

Becky had purposefully chosen Dory as a step-mother, as her intention had been to grow up in an environment conducive to her explorations. Dory was also Ilda aligned, and her passion for anthropology, archeology and other cultures and times was naturally a great help to Becky and her favourite game of ‘Focus Hunting’.

Becky started to make long lists of all the other focus connections she found, although she had a habit of forgetting where she had started a list, and often started a new list somewhere else. (Dan sometimes commented jokingly that it was almost as if Becky had inherited the ‘forgetful gene’ from her step-mother Dory…..Dan, like most people in those days, believed that genetic characteristics were ‘handed down’ from physical parents).

Becky spent many happy hours playing the focus hunting game, and at times had some difficulty in separating the various other focuses from the current focus she was interacting with. This wasn’t a problem with Dory, or with some of her contemporaries, but often caused some misunderstanding with people who were unaware of their other focuses.

Becky was delighted that Dory was coming home soon. She was looking forward to hearing about all of Dory’s adventures, and she wanted to share her own funny stories about the current ‘Perception Wave’ they were all experiencing.

Becky had to admit she was impressed with Tina’s latest addition to the Reality Drama Play. Inserting a ripplingly virile and handsome nanny was a stroke of genius, and was a concept that she, Becky, would bear in mind, should she ever decide to have children herself.

Seeing Sean again, if truth be told, had made her slightly broody. Yes, he was often slurring his words, but he had such an endearing twinkle in his eye, and he was so charmingly affectionate that she found him hard to resist. Becky recalled their passionate affair in the Middle East and the Sahara :weather-clear:…there hadn’t been any drinking in those days…well, Becky corrected herself, other than the occasional pot of herbal tea of questionable ingredients. Oh, those passionate nights inside the steamy tent, with the desert winds howling around them! Clandestine meetings, when Sean’s wife Margaret was too absorbed in her botanical experiments to notice his absence…..

Well, Margaret’s dead now, Becky reminded herself, and there was no-one standing between her and Sean now…..:yahoo_heehee:

— Peeeeerrrry! Peerrrry!

Yann was recalling Quintin’s mother… she was calling the cat playing in the garden, obviously more fascinated with the mice he was chasing than with the non-living food Scooter had just put on his plate…

Scooter… he smiled at the affectionnate nickname he had given her. She was always going somewhere, doing something, never staying calm and quiet.

The phone rang…

Let me show you something, Dory. George reached into a big red and orange and purple kilim carpet bag ( Dory wondered where it had appeared from; she certainly didn’t recall seeing there when they arrived) and pulled out a large sheaf of printed papers. He passed it to Dory.

Dory read on the first page:
Chapter 343,482,927,457,299,209,2819,298,357,008,557,057: ‘REMEMBERING’
Blimey, said Dory, Long book!

George grinned enigmatically and said, Indeed.

Dory flicked through the pages, reading a bit here and a bit there. Glancing up at George she said, I guess you couldn’t possibly carry the whole book round with you all the time in your carpet bag, the whole book must be enormous!

Oh, the whole book is always in my bag, he said.

Really? Dory asked in a disbelieving tone.

Why yes, of course. ‘It’s all in there somewhere’ he said, and laughed heartily, and a trifle rudely, Dory thought. Yes Dory, the whole book is always in there.

With a hmpf, Dory returned to scanning the pages. Before long she was overcome with waves of nostalgia and familiarity and deja vu, even a sort of backwards deja vu…a vuja de…Dory snickered to herself…

Why is this chapter called remembering, George? If I had written this chapter I’d have called it forgetting.

When Dory finally woke up from her coleslaw induced stupour, she felt quite befuddled. What a peculiar trip it had been! I’ve taken some recreational drugs in my time, Dory thought, but I’ve never had a trip quite like that one. She wondered what on earth George had drugged the coleslaw with. Dory closed her eyes again, recalling snatches of the hallucinations.

Being chased by bandits on hairpin mountain roads with a small baby girl in the car; being held at gunpoint by Idi Amin in an Afrian court; running, running, gasping with terror, chased by old fashioned Bobbies on pushbikes, and dough faced bowler hatted debt collectors…..

Dory’s heart was pounding again as she recalled the images that rolled along like a crazy movie montage, a psycho thriller, a horror movie…..

……being held down under the bathwater as a baby with a vicious scowling face looming above her; fighting with a witch in the garden shed for tense petrifying hours; monstrous demons snaking blacky out of ouija boards, and madness and asylums; a man lying in a double bed dying from self inflicted stab wounds and she was shouting and calling and nobody hearing; running, running and gasping, shouting for help and no-one was there…..

Well, Dory pulled herself together, No point in dwelling on it, it was just a freaky bad trip.

Coffee? George asked.

Dory’s head snapped round. Huh? Oh! Gosh, YES please! You’re still here are you? Dory rubbed her eyes and shook herself a bit. Just the mention of coffee had already started to snap her out of her unpleasant reverie.

Of course I’m still here, Dory, George said kindly. I am always here. I was with you during you trip, every step of the way, but you were not focused on me.

You WERE? Dory was momentarily non-plussed. And then, Well why did you let all that awful stuff happen then? Why didn’t you help me? You just stood there and watched?

Another funny sync about last comment (the one with Janice and Rodney, adapted from a chat session with Tracy).

The dream that Janice recalls is one I made this morning, I had not thought about that cabbage sync yet.
And at the moment I read about the Wildes that Illi’s family knew, I have Jib’s SMS’ing me that he was in Père Lachaise…

Funney