Search Results for 'taking'

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  • #807
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Elioctyl looked down on her body being wrapped in mummification bandages and sniggered. Dear funny silly alive ones, with their darling little rituals. How sweet they were to think their physical processes would make a ha’porth of difference after their last sweet breath of terrestrial air.

      Look at Hoofut, taking it all so seriously! He thinks that if he takes every possible care with those strips of cloth and smelly unguents, that he…yes he alone!…has the power to direct my next adventures. Silly man! But he means well, bless his leather sandals. And Tarfel too, see how he cries when he’s sure Hoofut isn’t watching. I see the tears roll down his leathery cheeks, I see him brush them away with the back of his hand, and sniff and snort, and then spit on the floor. He pretends it’s the malodourous vapours of the embalming mixtures that’s making his nose run, but I can see.

      Shalabat cries too when no-one is watching. He rests on a cushion beside the pool, waiting for the completion of the process on my lifeless body, waiting for the ceremonial rites to take place, waiting, wondering, worrying about the future….he has every faith in Hoofut’s skills, and Tarfel’s too. But he wonders what will happen to his people now without Elioctyl.

      Ah, and I wonder too, but I don’t worry. I make a pact now, in love for these dear ones, to leave a piece of me in energy in the mummy they create out of my bones and skin. The mummy is for the terrestrial ones, a poignant reminder, a mystery, a relic, a treasure, a clue! and for them, I give it life, energy, meaning….I will return from time to time, in ethereal body form, to those who ponder this mummy, for generations to come….

      #800

      Pondering the significance of his dream , Franiel set out again. It was the third morning since he had woken to find the chalice missing, and he was no closer to knowing where he was going. Yet he had taken the advice of the BBL and felt all the better for it in his spirit.

      Morning! Franiel called a greeting to an old woman who was passing by, delighted to see signs of life, and wondering if it meant he was near a Village. Might I ask where you are taking that basket of eggs?

      A good morning to you young man. Certainly you may ask, I am taking these into the Village Market to sell.

      And where might that be, it is not the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon by any strange chance? asked Franiel, thinking nothing would surprise him anymore.

      The old woman looked at him in astonishment. The Village of Chard Dam Jarfon! You surely have a very long journey before you if you are heading for the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon. No indeed, I am going to the Village of Chard Dut Jep, an hour or so from here.

      Franiel considered this for a moment. And if I keep heading the way I am going, and from whence you have started, where might I be going?

      The old woman hesitated and looked at Franiel with an odd expression in her dark eyes.

      I am not sure if you want to do that, for this is a very long and lonely way you are heading. Unless you are going to the old Chesterhope mansion, and there’s not many who would do be doing that anymore.

      How very interesting, said Franiel, rather intrigued. Is that where you have come from Old Woman?

      The old woman gazed searchingly at Franiel for a moment before answering.

      Aye it is, I work for Madame Chesterhope. I am the only one left now and it has been like that for many a long year, save for old Derwent of course, him who minds the gardens, but he’s not right in the mind that one and Madame keeps him on out of the kindness of her heart, said the Old Woman, and Franiel sensed some deep sadness in her voice, but in the next breath it was gone and he wondered if it was a trick of his mind.

      Why don’t you come to the Village with me? she asked. Are you looking for work? There’s plenty would take on a fine young man such as yourself.

      Would your Madame Chesterhope be looking for someone such as myself by any chance? asked Franiel, For I have nowhere in particular I am headed, and I am in need of some way of keeping myself. And as he spoke the words out loud he found himself wondering at them, yet he felt such an odd sense of anticipation inside himself, as though perhaps there was some new adventure to be had after all.

      Again the old woman looked at Franiel appraisingly for a long time. Eventually she spoke.

      When you get to the crossways turn left and keep heading that way for 2 miles till you see the Chesterhope sign. It’s an up and down path for a ways to get to the mansion from there. When you get there, it would be best to keep in mind all is not as it might seem. I will say no more and bid you farewell, for I have still got a ways to go.

      Perhaps I will see you later then! Franiel called after her.

      She turned and looked back at him. Perhaps.

      #772

      Smiling warmly, and stretching luxuriously and rather felinely, Illi woke up from her dream. The sun had been shining in her dream, as indeed it was on the beach of the sand dragons where she had fallen asleep all those many moons ago. She had many projects underway in her dream, lots of interesting ideas to be sorted out and she knew that many dear ones had been with her in the dream: hiding under tables, and in cupcoards….some in the fridge, some in the lavatory cistern; lending energy and support, albeit behind the scenes. That they were not visibly helping didn’t mean that they weren’t there, in a spirit of helpful cooperation, Illi knew, and she felt comforted.

      When Illi had fallen asleep, she had been bored, hopelessly frustrated . The delights of the island paradise had palled rather quickly. Sure, she could create whatever she wanted, and she had had fun for awhile creating sand creatures and so on, but she had realized that she missed the surprises, the interactions with others, things not going according to plan… her objective plan, at any rate.

      Illi was beginning to accept the fact that she was ‘dead’, at last, but she was starting to see that it wasn’t the ‘end’, but an opportunity for a new beginning.

      Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkiling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

      ~~~

      Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvellous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.

      #769
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Hang on a minute, Sam said to the Nanaconda. I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve dealt with this bucket of dung.

        The rainbow Nanaconda raised her eyebrows (or gave the impression of that facial expression, at any rate).

        As Sam tipped the bucket out, hundreds of dung beetles scurried in every direction.

        Whoa! exclaimed Sam, taking an involuntary step backwards.

        Nanaconda sniggered in a somewhat sinister fashion and said, Ah, the Symbolic scarab beetles strike again.

        As Sam stood transfixed by the sight of the beetles running in all directions, an extraordinary thing happened. All the beetles stopped moving, as one, and then with a seemingly united purpose, they all started moving in the same direction. Within seconds a long black army of dung beetles marched off across the field.

        Sam picked up the empty bucket and followed them.

        Nanaconda followed him, grinning wickedly.

        #1722

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          I googled Circle of Eights

          ***

          Give pairs seven post-its and ask the children to write down the main scenes. Take feedback and allow children to adjust/add to their post-its. Pairs then work on listing the scenes and sticking them in order. They should disregard any scenes that are not crucial, and just keep the key events.

          Agree with the class the basic key scenes. Demonstrate how to make a few notes about each scene to help with a retelling.

          In pairs, children make notes about each scene to help with retelling the tale. These should be kept to the barebones. In pairs, practice retelling the story, taking it in turns. Then put pairs together to retell their versions to another pair.

          ***

          If time allows, build this up to circles of eight.

          ***

          End the session by hearing several retellings. Encourage the children to evaluate between tellings, refining and improving their version.

          Explore ways of altering the retellings. Children decide to alter one aspect. They then retell the tale, with the alteration. Pairs should then move into fours
          and retell their new versions.

          ***
          Build up to circles of eight if time allows.

          ***
          The children recommend a version they have heard that is really effective. Listen to these, and as a class evaluate what makes an effective retelling. This enables more in-depth evaluation, especially by the storytellers themselves.

          #2008

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            LET YOUR DNA SING, AND DANCE THE bright dance, THE times ARE interesting, THE sun IS SHINING AND THE door IS OPEN. Finn askED THE BRIGHT dog SHE WAS taking FOR A WALK: SHOW ME THE link TO Salome! HE hands HER A black snoot AND SAYS: THERE’S change inside.

            #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!”

            #745

            Arona, my dear?

            The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

            — Yes?
            — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
            — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
            — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

            Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

            — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
            — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
            — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
            — I’ll be there in a second.

            So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
            I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
            Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

            Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

            Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

            :fleuron:

            On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

            Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
            Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
            She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

            Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

            — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
            — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

            Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

            Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

            She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

            Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
            They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

            Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

            Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

            — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

            The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
            Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
            So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

            — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

            At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

            — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

            And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
            The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

            And in a snap,
            The landscape
            Was
            In all its splendor…

            — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

            #742

            Due to the unusual events in the year 2026, Nishanti and her five sisters lived in the reconstructed ancient city of Hingapooloopi that had been submerged beneath the ocean for centuries. There had been a series of tsunami’s and eathquakes and volcanic eruptions resulting in an enormous hole appearing in the sea bed into which a considerable amount of Indian Ocean sea water had disappeared, lowering the sea levels in some locations, mainly those that had risen slightly due to shifting tectonic plates.

            Ten year old Nishanti and her five sisters (Hinni, 3; Yaso, 5; Yuvani, 7; Eromi, 13; and Nanda, 16) had lost their parents, and indeed most of their relatives, due to an unfortunate mishap in the kitchens two years previously in the year 2032 at the wedding party of their brother, Chandra. Gayesh, Nishanti’s eldest brother had mistakenly included poisonous red berries in the desert. Fortunately, Nishanti and her sisters had been reading the Snoot Q&A column in The Tarty Nun girls magazine that they had procured without their parents knowledge from a school trip of American tourists, in which Snoot had advised against red fruits.

            Hingapooloopi was located on the land bridge , once again exposed, between Sri Lanka and the Indian continent. The reconstruction had been an enormously interesting undertaking, and Nishanti’s uncle Roshan had been involved in the ground work excavations. He found many artifacts, which he smuggled off the building site, and secreted under the floorboards of the old family home in the highlands . Perhaps the most interesting one was the crystal skull; certainly it was the one that Nishanti found the most intriguing.

            #731
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

              Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

              You ask him! replied Sanso.

              No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

              Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

              What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

              Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

              AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

              Zhana started to cry.

              There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

              Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

              Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

              Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

              Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

              No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

              Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

              Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

              Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

              You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

              He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!

              #720

              As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

              I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
              Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
              Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

              Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

              Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
              Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

              Becky’s family and friends
              Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
              Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
              Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

              [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

              Sean’s family and friends
              (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
              Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
              (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

              Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

              #710

              Tina could not help but wish the wedding was over, what with Becky’s strange illnesses and then all the indecision and fuss over the wedding dress. In the end, after quite some deliberation with Felicity, the Bridal Goddess, they had decided upon a Russian themed wedding. Tina could not believe that now, after all that planning, Becky seemed to be in denial that the wedding was even taking place!

              Is it today! she had screeched in a panic, when Tina called her first thing that morning.

              I can’t get married today Tina! I consulted with the Snoot yesterday.

              Tina sighed. She seemed to do an awful lot of sighing when talking to Becky.

              Calm down Becky, what exactly did the Snoot say? said Tina gently

              Well most of it I didn’t understand, something about I have created the splotches to be more allowing of my cleaning aspects, and to not be cleaning so much and to wash my hands more … and then he recommended some special green clay to improve my skin, to help those awful splotches I have been getting on my face … oh and he said no more mushrooms or red fruit. Well I don’t want to get married with my face looking like this Tina! Becky wailed despairingly. And the Snoot said it could take some time … but if I could let go of my crottes I would feel my inner vibration more freely … it was all a bit confusing to be honest Tina … and what are crottes anyway?

              #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.

                #683

                The landscape had become oddly unfamiliar to Franiel. He had walked this path to the Village at the foot of the mountains maybe a half a dozen times, yet he felt certain he had never before seen these surroundings. He had never seen this patch of bright yellow flowers with their golden centers, nor this gnarled tree whose branches dropped down over the path causing Franiel to stoop in order to pass by. He stopped, hesitating, should he return the way he had come, find where he had left the path? Yet even while his mind was telling him what he was seeing should not be, he knew in his heart that he had taken no wrong turning. He touched the trunk of the old tree, and asking for wisdom, felt it’s reassuring energy calm his anxiety. The way ahead, though unexpected, felt friendly.

                As fate would have it he had not journeyed much further when he spied a fellow traveler coming towards him on the path ahead, a small figure swathed in colourful robes, wild and dishevelled locks of hair protruding exuberantly from beneath his brown leather cap.

                Greetings Fellow Traveler, cried out Franiel as he drew nearer, My name is Franiel. I am travelling from the Monastery of Margilonia to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon, and foolishly I appear to have mislaid my way.

                The stranger chuckled merrily. Greetings Franiel, Indeed If that is your destination then I fear perhaps you are more lost than you care to admit. He motioned towards the grassy bank at the side of the path. Perhaps we might sit awhile and talk, for I know that I for one, could do with a rest and bite to eat.

                A splendid idea, replied Franiel, sensing magic in the stranger and enjoying immensely the unexpected diversion.

                So my friend you are a long way from the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon.

                Am I indeed? mused Franiel, How could that be, for that was where I was heading, and as far as I know I did not step from the path, and yet here I am.

                The stranger chuckled again, and his laughter was so infectious that Franiel joined in, not really being able to identify the source of the amusement, yet feeling all the better for it.

                And how important is it that you get to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon?

                I am on a mission from Aum Geog, the newly appointed Abbot, replied Franiel, as he pulled out the chalice from his pack, to have this cup inscribed.

                The stranger reached out for the chalice, and studied it intently for a few moments. He took some of the water from his own water bottle and poured it into the chalice. Muttering a few words which Franiel did not recognise, the stranger closed his eyes and held the cup up as though offering it to the Gods. After a few moments he took a sip from the chalice. A look of delight crossed his face, As I thought! he chuckled.

                Now drink, my friend, he said offering the chalice back to Franiel.

                This is the sweetest Nectar you carry in your bottle ! Franiel exclaimed in surprise after taking some sips.

                The stranger chortled, It was plain water from the river I passed on my travels. I gather from your surprise that you do not know the magic of this chalice?

                Franiel shook his head. Well to be honest I have not really given the chalice much consideration, only to briefly wonder at my task. My mind has been more occupied with other matters. Franiel looked at the chalice in his hands, And what more can you tell me of this magic?

                I can caution you to be wary my friend, I would not be so quick to show strangers you meet on your path this cup, for be assured there would be some who would be keen to possess this. He frowned for a moment. What are the words which are to be inscribed on this chalice?

                Franiel pulled the sealed letter from his pack, and, feeling only a moment’s hesitation, opened it; “Bibere venenum in argento”, he read haltingly, then shrugged. I confess I don’t know what that means, I have not been taught in the old language.

                It is a curse of the Ancients, it means “drink poison from a cup of silver”. Seeing the puzzled look on Franiel’s face the stranger went on to explain. The magic of the chalice is to transform. I uttered words of love and the water transformed to sweet nectar. Had I whipered words of hate and fear, had my intention been to kill, I could have changed the water to bitter poison. The power though is not in the chalice, it is in the intention of the one who holds it and who knows of it’s magic.

                Franiel shook his head, bewildered, I can find no sense in this. Why would Aum Geog curse the cup in this way?

                The stranger turned and looked at Franiel, his clear blue gaze piercing and direct, I don’t know this Aum Geog, neither do I know his heart …. I know that you are the bearer of the cup now Franiel. Make sure you are asking the right questions.

                #1945
                Jib
                Participant

                  Yann was passing by, and had a chat with Finn yesterday evening… part of it was about his ex moving in a new apartment and taking his internet connection with him… that would have left Yurick and him without internet for an unknown length of time.

                  Finn and Yann had spent a few minutes chatting about that, and Finn was trying to find a solution so Yann wouldn’t miss the Tobidoo show on Saturday… well she eventually told him he would create an unexpected twist of the situation and create a solution (btw it is 11:53 when Yann is writing this entry)…

                  Yann received a mail from his ex this morning and it was about this very connection… he would leave the connection and change provider, so Yann can keep it and change all the informations of the account… and even ask for this new cool internet modem called the Freebox HD V5… what a name, he thought.

                  Well all that would be possible. No gap in the connection to the world then.

                  :yahoo_big_hug:

                  Simplicity 123 ;)

                  #1653

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Tracy is making the most of not being able to post and asked me to post some synchs for her:

                    Tracy: thanks for posting the comments!
                    Francie: okay, i will do that other one
                    Francie: you love it eh?
                    Francie: it appeals your head counterpart side
                    Tracy: lobe what?
                    Francie: making me post for you
                    Tracy: hahahaha yeah its like having staff

                    :fleuron:

                    Francie: i took george to vet today for check up
                    Tracy: hows he doing?
                    Francie: well while we were all discussing vaccinations, he nosed open the door and went careering around the vets
                    Tracy: hahahaha
                    Francie: down to visit all the sick dogs. Like a crazy thing
                    Tracy: oh how funny. Oh I bet they all loved it
                    Francie: oh yes hilarious
                    Tracy: I kept thinking today that any distraction, was taking Bills mind off the pain
                    Francie: yeah
                    Tracy: and so was George!
                    Francie: ahahahahha
                    Tracy: ahhaah I synced with george!
                    Francie: hahahah!
                    Francie: yes
                    Tracy: would you write that in syncs under my name please
                    Francie: okay

                    :fleuron:

                    Francie: what does a jewel on the forehead signify?
                    Tracy: A flock of coots is known in the US as a cover
                    Tracy: um, not sure, like an Indian thing?
                    Tracy: why?
                    Francie: some of my frogs had jewels on their foreheads, and then i watched a movie with jewels on foreheads
                    Tracy: is it a Sikh thing? Or is it the chakra
                    Francie: don’t know
                    Tracy: which chakra is that or is it the third eye… What colour jewels?
                    Francie: tarotteachings blogspot
                    Tracy: ralphmag
                    Francie: there is another 8 synch in that tarot one
                    Francie: oh wow, a magazine synch Tracy
                    Tracy: she understands, with a profound and inherent wisdom, that the universe is a magical and abundant place.
                    Tracy: thats cool huh… What?
                    Francie: the link you gave me: read the last paragraph
                    Tracy: I was thinking about the magazine yesterday… WOW F, the last paragraph!
                    Francie: yes!
                    Tracy: would you post it on syncs for me?
                    Francie: yes
                    Tracy: please
                    Tracy: I missed that bit, I just noticed the ittiel
                    Tracy: tille
                    Tracy: title

                    #673

                    Franiel felt an unaccustomed tiredness. The changes of late, his own indecision as to his path, were taking a toll and his spirit felt heavy. Despite the admonitions of Aum Geog to make all haste on this journey he decided to rest, and finding some soft grass under the shelter of a tree he sank gratefully down into it’s embrace.

                    Just a short sleep, he thought drowsily.

                    He was awakened by some gentle drops of rain falling on his cheek. Not knowing how long he had slept for, and seeing the darkness of the clouds in the sky, Franiel realised he had best find some shelter of a more permanent nature to wait out the storm.

                    Franiel, he heard his name being whispered in his thoughts, it was no louder than a clear sky, but rang as clear as any sound he had ever heard.

                    Follow me!

                    And Franiel followed. Though he knew not what spirit it was leading him, he went swiftly to the entrance of a cave set in the side of the hill, as though he had known of it’s whereabouts all along. Just in time, for with a deafening clap of thunder, the heavens opened.

                    From the shelter of the little cave Franiel looked out and felt a mixture of exhileration and awe at the power of the mighty elements he was witnessing . Though he kept his body dry, he sent his spirit out to dance in the rain, and laughing softly to himself, he at last felt the greyness of the last few weeks begin to ascend, as though lifted by the hands of angels, said the soft voice in his head.

                    Who are you? whispered Franiel, feeling an inexplicable and sudden longing.

                    :fleuron:

                    It was the next day before Franiel was able to continue his journey. Making himself a small meal of bread and cheese from his provisions, checking that his precious cargo was secure in his pack, he set out feeling refreshed.

                    #1649

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Yesterday I was taking photos of broken statues at a ceramica shop, fascinated with piles of head and arms…..just saw the sync with Jib’s photos

                      #663

                      There you are! said the man to the dark figure who had just landed on the wrought iron railed balcony I believe your trip was good!
                      Absolutely, Sir. Everything went as you said.
                      Good, very good.

                      The Baron was a tall man with an impressive build and a broad chest due to his lifelong passion for boxing. With his grey waxed moustache on his round rubicund face, he was giving the impression of a perfectly refined gentleman, but his disarrayed hair and his blue twinkling eyes behind his monocle were contrasting sharply and suggesting either a genius or a madman.

                      While Carla was getting rid of the cumbersome fly-like apparatus, the Baron was taking deep puffs on his pipe, releasing pink-coloured clouds smelling of vanilla.
                      The interior of the manor was of grisly aspect, but for all matter and purposes, the Baron seemed completely oblivious, as he was savouring his smoking on the stained worn bottle-green velvet sofa.
                      In actuality, the manor looked like a total ruin, and that, combined with the habit of speaking his mind which had gained him a reputation of heinous callous grizzly in society, had slowly severed him from all exterior contact.
                      The Crazy Baron, as the people of the nearby village had called him, was indeed very glad of this state of fact, which allowed him a complete privacy. As he liked to say to a few trusted people, being mad was the surest way of being left alone. Providing him what money, threats and coercion wouldn’t surely have given as surely. It was not completely safe either of incursion, but these, mainly due to a few young and curious daredevils from the village, could be easily thwarted thanks to the motion-sensors that were dispersed along the property and an appropriate anonymous call to the police. Because, unknown of but a few, underneath the old structure, was a room that, despite lacking a view, was not lacking of anything high-tech…

                      Do you want to know the details? asked Carla, interrupting the Baron in his thoughts.
                      Not really. I suppose you gave that old crone of a Viscountess the fright of her life, but well, I suppose she deserved it… Many would agree of course, though never in private. Ahah!
                      Well, now you make me think of it, I reckon she forgot herself a bit in the process…
                      Ahahah! If only it could have taught her something… The manic laughter of the Baron was as chilling as it was infectious.

                      Suddenly regaining his poised demeanour, the Baron resumed:
                      Now, tell me, was it a genuine one?

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