The Lacey Blanket

Darla leaned back against the wall as she sat on the dusty attic floor, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. She held back tears as she gazed at the murky sunlight timidly spilling through the little round window and mingling with the dust and cobwebs. It must have been at least two decades since anyone had been in Grandma's attic. She wished she could have been up here under happier circumstances, that she could have sorted through these things with Grandma instead of doing it alone. She struggled against the sting of regret as it threatened to drag her down again.

Darla remembered playing in this attic as a child. She's spent many an hour digging in the large trunks and peeking in boxes, hunting for little treasures from her Grandmothers life. Mementos and heirlooms and trinkets filled the space waiting to delight and entertain her. The attic was messy and cluttered, as it always had been, and probably not the safest place for a child to play. But it became a second home to Darla. It was her hiding place, her refuge. As she'd grown her visits changed from treasure hunts, dress-up sessions, and tea parties to quiet time and contemplative moments spent scribbling in a notebook or drawing on a sketch pad.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her chin to her chest as the memories washed over her, dissipating in the sweat that was once again accumulating on her skin. The weight of it all was matched only by the heat of the Wisconson summer, and Darla decided it was time to take a break. She pulled herself up off the floor and brushed the dust off her pants as she headed to the narrow staircase that lead down into the turn-of-the-century Midwest farm house.

Coming here from her California home was like a time warp, a real life twilight zone. The stark contrast between the hustle and bustle of her life in the Bay Area and this quiet piece of country in Excelsior still came as a shock to her. From the fast-paced, every man for himself attitude in California to the outskirts of town with little more to offer in amenities than the abundant hospitality and friendly smiles.

Finishing her descent from the second floor to the first now, Darla entered the large kitchen in the back of the house. She paused at the kitchen sink for a moment, gazing out the window at a garden now overgrown with weeds. As much as she loved it, Grandma just couldn't keep up with tending the little plot after she'd fallen ill in late June. Darla felt a twinge of guilt at not coming sooner, but she had been laid up herself because of morning sickness.

She let out a sigh as she poured a glass of lemonade and pondered the irony of it. Sickness. Sickness had kept them apart as one life began and another drew to an end. Her heart ached over the separation and the realization that this woman, who'd been such a precious part of her life, would never meet this unborn child. Exhaustion set in and Darla sipped her lemonade as she stepped out onto the shady wrap-around porch and seated herself in Grandma's swing.

A rapid fire flashing of memories raced through her mind. She could replay nearly her whole life in snapshots of her and her grandmother in that swing together. Right up to days before Grandma's passing when they had lounged there together on a breezy afternoon. Her grandmother snoozing peacefully in the swing under her favorite blanket. A pale blue blanket, edged in lace. A lacey blanket that still sat, folded neatly, at one end of the seat.

A light breeze struggled against the oppressive heat of the day and Darla layed down on the swing, resting her head on the blanket. She let the lingering scent of her grandmother's perfume comfort and lull her to sleep as the condensation rolled down the sides of her glass mimicking the tears on her cheeks.

Never Let Go - Part 8

This time, packing and preparing for a move was much more peaceful. Sara didn't hear from Matt for the duration of that time.. She was a bit unnerved by it, to be honest. Part of her felt a little guilty for just dumping him the way she did and she had to fight the urge to call him up, apologize, and beg him to take her back.. But still, there was that underlying hesitation. She was also afraid. A shiver would run through her any time she imagined herself with him again. No. No more. The days leading up to her departure were tense and she was always looking over her shoulder, always expecting him to somehow sneak up on her.. not knowing what she would do if he did, not trusting herself.

Luckily, no one was ever there.

Sara's move went smoothly, perfectly really. She got settled into her apartment in Chicago quickly, and enjoyed her new job as an apprentice in a local theater. It was only about a month before she found an opportunity to audition for a big role and was accepted. Her heart soared as her dreams finally started to take flight. She missed the beautiful Elizabethan Theater in Ashland, but was thrilled to be on to bigger and brighter venues. She immersed herself in the escape of playing a part and becoming someone else. What a blissful break from her own life and her own troubles!

And then the phone calls started. Sara didn't know how Matt managed to find her number, but he did. He'd call at night and cry over the phone, begging for her to come back. Plead into the answering machine for her to let him come to Chicago. He'd remind her of how good things were before she left and longed to understand why she waited until things had improved to leave him. After a few weeks of that, she changed her number. But she felt awful. After all, he'd changed, right? Why didn't she give him another chance?

She began to feel as if she was the one who was screwed up, she was the one who was wrong. Apparently, she could only be happy if things were bad. Apparently, she just couldn't find it in her to love him unless he was being manipulative and abusive. What is wrong with me? she wondered.

She missed him. She missed him terribly. And she fought the urge to give in and fly back to Ashland.

A few more weeks went by without the phone calls and the ache finally began to subside. Sara was finally able to open her eyes and see just how much power Matt had over her. But still, she didn't hate him. She had little reason to at this point.. she'd managed to get out before things got worse. What might have happened had she stayed? What would the next offense be?

She reminded herself of this as she walked down this Chicago street to the theater on a brisk fall morning. Sure, she missed him. But the sadness of being homesick and wanting to be in his arms again paled in comparison to the relief she felt at being smart enough and brave enough to stand up and walk away.

Never Let Go - Part 7

Sara felt herself growing more and more conflicted in her relationship with Matt. She really, genuinely enjoyed spending time with him, but there were those moments.. few and far between, but still there. Moments when he was harsh. Moments when he was controlling. Moments when he'd mock her. She could not ignore them.

The day before she was supposed to move in with Matt, Sara began unpacking. She locked the doors, having retrieved he key from him, and did not answer his calls until late in the afternoon. When she did finally talk to him, she knew she'd have to tell him she wasn't moving in with him.

"How is packing going? You done yet?" he asked.
"I'm actually unpacking, Matt. I'm not moving."
"What?? Why? I don't understand.."
"I can't do it. I'm just not ready." she answered.
"But we've been over this, Sara. It's better this way. It just makes more sense."
"I know, Matt. But I'm just not ready. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. It's okay. I'll get over it."
"Really?"
"What do you mean, 'really?'.. do I have a choice?"
"Well.. no. I guess not."
"I'd rather have a relationship with you while you're still living there, than not have one at all. I love you Sara. I don't ever want to let go of you."
"Thank you for understanding, Matt. I love you too."

Sara felt light as a feather after the conversation. She felt almost silly for being so cautious and fearful. What was she afraid of? She laughed to herself as she put some more books back on her shelf and felt nothing but optimism about their future together.. It was almost enough for her to change her mind again. But she resisted. Something held her back.

It was back to happy times for Matt and Sara. Everything was peaceful between them and she felt confident that the 'incidents' were now behind them, chalking it up to working out the kinks between them as any couple might early in their relationship.

So why did she feel herself growing distant from him? Days and weeks went by and the longer he was nice to her, the more freedom he seemed to give her, the less interested in him she was. She began to wonder what in the world was wrong with her!

Finally, she couldn't stand the weirdness the whole relationship had taken on and decided it was time to break up and move on. Sara could honestly say that she no longer was in love with Matt. Sure, she was very fond of him and they were great friends now.. but she just wasn't in love with him. She invited him to take a walk in Lithia park on a brisk fall afternoon.

"Matt, I'd like to talk to you."
"Oh?" he forced a smile and let out a nervous chuckle, "This isn't the 'let's be friends' talk, is it?"
How did he know? Am I that obvious? Sara felt a surge of anxiety and was so happy to be in a public place.. that old fear started to seep back in.
"Matt, I just feel like we've grown apart.."
"I knew it." his eyes rolled back in his head and he threw his arms up in the air.
"I'm sorry. I like you. I really really do. And things have been really good for so long now.. I hate to do this. But I just don't have feelings for you like that any more and I don't want to waste your time or mine."
"I have never felt that any of our time together has been wasted." he said flatly.
"I didn't say that I felt I was wasting time with you.. " Sara sighed in frustration. The words just did not seem to be coming out right. "I'm sorry, Matt. But, I'm moving to Chicago in a week."
"What?? a week? What are you talking about?"
"I got a call about a job a little over a week ago and I've decided to take it. I've given it a lot of thought and it's a really good opportunity for me. I'm moving."
"Okay.. fine. But why can't we stay together? I'm sure we could make it work."
"No, Matt. I don't want to make it work."
"I'll move with you! Sara. You can't do this. You can't just let go. I told you I'd never let go of you." Matt's words were pleading, but his voice was urgent and firm as he grabbed her arm and held her tight. Sara was getting nervous and debated running from him.
"Matt. No. It's over. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm moving in a week, and you're not coming."
"You're going to regret that decision, Sara." Matt said coldly as he turned and walked away, sending a shiver down her spine.

Never Let Go - Part 6

In case you missed some and would like to catch up.. The rest of Never Let Go.

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Sara didn't hear from Matt for over a week after that day.

Part of her was relieved, but for some reason she felt the need to bring him back. She began to realize in that week just how much of her life she had let go of during the course of their relationship. She felt bad for ignoring her friends the way she had, but she didn't feel that she could call them now. What would she say? They would never understand.

So instead, she called Matt. And called him and called him. She even went to his apartment and knocked on his door, but there was no answer. Then he just showed up again. He showed up at her front door with flowers in his hands and a smile on his face.

“I'm so sorry.” he said to her, sweetly. “I was so wrong for the way I treated you. Please, let me make it up to you? I don't know what came over me. I promise it won't ever happen again..”

Sara melted at the sight of his smile again. It was as if that morning in the kitchen never happened. Sure, there was a small voice deep inside her screaming No! Please don't take him back! Don't trust him, don't do it! But it was surprisingly easy for her to quiet it with explanations of how it was her fault in the first place and if she'd just be nicer to him, she wouldn't have to worry.

She was in control of the situation.

Sara let Matt in the house and led the way to the kitchen where they put the flowers in water and then decided to pack a picnic to share in Lithia Park. It was a beautiful day, and there was no reason not to go out and enjoy it together.

Things went along very smoothly for quite some time after that, and Sara grew more and more confident in her decision to let Matt back into her life. She was especially grateful for him in light of the fact that it seemed all her friends had simply moved on and forgotten her. At times, she felt like he was all she had.

As the weeks turned into months, she grew more and more in love with him. The way he looked at her, the way he laughed with her.. they had so much fun together. It wasn't long before Sara accepted Matt's offer to move in with him. They were spending so much time together, they might as well save a little money on rent and live together, right? Sara started packing.

But the more she packed the more Matt told her she needed to leave behind. It soon became a battle over what Sara got to keep and what she had to leave behind. She felt that he was being unfair but understood that it was his apartment she was moving into. One evening, he came over to help her go through some of her things and pack but he ended up leaving in a huff as she pleaded with him to let her keep a few boxes of old letters that she'd kept from her childhood and teens. Letters from friends that she'd been pen-pals with for years. He said she was being silly and selfish and should just throw them out. She refused and he stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

That night, Sara went to bed feeling confused. She loved Matt so much. He was all she had now. But she was starting to rethink her decision to move in with him. The heaviness of the decision weighed on her as she thought of just letting go of so many of her things, so much of her life, so much of herself.. She wasn't so sure she was ready to do that. After all, he had hurt her before. Sure, it was in the past now, and things were better. But it did happen. She hadn't forgotten.

She wanted to back out. She wanted to stay where she was and not move. But Sara began to feel scared at the thought of changing her plans with Matt. She was afraid of offending him. She was afraid to go against his wishes. She was afraid of making him angry. This isn't right. I shouldn't be afraid. Why am I afraid? Nothing bad is going to happen.

She drifted off to sleep, convincing herself she was silly for being so scared. Of course Matt would understand that there were just some things that she didn't want to leave behind. Or perhaps she would see if someone would hold on to them for her for a while. Something would work out. Maybe he was right.. maybe she should just let go and move on. She was being rather silly and selfish. Things would work out fine.

Sara woke to the sound of a key dropping on her night stand. She opened her eyes but the room was still dark. A silhouette walked around her bed and she sat up quickly.

"Who's there?” she demanded.

"Ssshh..” an amused chuckle followed as her mattress shifted and she realized in her grogginess that someone was on her bed crawling over her.

"It's just me baby.. I couldn't let us go to bed angry, darling..” Matt whispered in the darkness as he pulled the covers off her and ran his hands over her body tugging at her pajamas.

"Matt, stop it.” she whispered back. “What are you doing here, how did you get in?”

"A key.” he breathed in her ear as he kissed her neck.

"Matt, please.. stop.”

"Sssshhh.. Let's not go to bed angry.” he said as he pushed her back down on the bed and lay on top of her.

"Matt.. you're hurting me.”

"Sara, don't be ridiculous. I would never hurt you.. I love you.”

Sara felt his weight pressing her into the mattress and she wished it would just open up and swallow her whole as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to talk herself into being okay with what was happening to her..

Never Let Go - Part 3

I sat down to write this next part and got distracted by the news of my review by these Nice People (*snort*). So go read it when you're done here, and tell them what you think of it!

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To say that Sara was swept off her feet would be a bit of an understatement. Matt was not only handsome, he was chivalrous, charming, and very sweet. Sara all but forgot that she was out with her cast mates as she sat and talked with this intriguing stranger. He was a writer. Matt worked for a local magazine but also enjoyed writing poetry and prose and was even working on a play. How could that not get Sara's attention?

As the evening drew to a close, Matt offered to see Sara home. She informed him that she didn't live far from the theater and was renting a room in a little house up the street from Lithia Park. He proposed he walk with her and she gladly accepted.

It was right around midnight as the pair walked along the street toward the park, breathing in the warm summer breeze.

"Would you like to take a stroll through the park?" Matt asked as they neared its entrance. Could he be more romantic? she thought to herself.
"I'd love to," she replied softly.

They walked together along the garden paths in the moonlight. It was a clear night and the stars shone clearly despite the meager light pollution that the small town offered up to the night. The scent of flowers was heavy in the warm air and the sound of the creek gliding lazily over the rocks and sand rounded out the atmosphere perfectly.

Matt stopped in the gazebo and as Sara turned to see why he pulled her firmly into his arms. She was a bit taken aback at his abruptness and his firm grasp, but wasn't entirely opposed to his embrace.

"You are so beautiful." he breathed into her ear as his face came close to hers. He ran his fingers through her long brown hair and touched his cheek to hers as his fingertips slid down the nape of her neck. Sara felt breathless, speechless, and a little anxious all at once. She couldn't pinpoint where the twinge of fear was coming from exactly and decided to ignore it as Matt kissed her.

Again, she was startled by his forcefulness. He'd been so smooth and charming all evening, she'd imagined that he'd be a bit gentler with her. She pulled back a little, trying to catch her breath and he released her. He stood, staring at her in the moonlight, as a smile broke across his face. The shadows made it unclear, but Sara was pretty sure he had a very mocking grin on his face. He seemed pleased and rather amused with her response.

"I should really be getting home now.." she stammered. "Ms. Worthington doesn't like me coming in in the middle of the night, it wakes her sometimes.."

"Sure," he answered, offering her his elbow again. "Let's go then." His gentle manner had returned and Sara gladly took his arm as he led her out of the park and up the street to her house.

Never Let Go - Part 2

It was Much Ado About Nothing, the final play of that year's Shakespeare Festival, and tonight was sold out.

It was hot in the Elizabethan Stage, as always. But the wooden architecture and maze of rooms throughout lent itself so nicely to playing the part that it was, by far, Sara's favorite venue to perform in. And tonight felt as if it might be the culmination of her time with this theater group, as she dressed for her role of Hero.

Backstage was the usual bustle and chaos of the last 15 minutes before the show would open. The performers busy with dressing themselves, rehearsing lines, applying make-up, or tending to the divas of the theater. The air was heavy with body heat and the sound of lilting voices as everyone warmed up. Sara finished prepping herself and gave one last check in the mirror before heading up the narrow stair case and walking down the hallway to stage left to stand in wait of her cue.

The open air theater was packed in tight and a hush fell over the audience as the light came over the empty stage. Sara stood, poised and ready, as the butterflies filled her stomach and the near nausea set in with the rush of adrenaline that would overtake her right before any performance. Sara loved the sensation, tingles running down her spine and a lump rising in her throat. Sara breathed deep and let a broad smile spread across her face as the music began and they all danced across the stage in a lighthearted rendition of "Hey, Nonny Nonny".

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh nor more;
    Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
    To one thing constant never;
        Then sigh not so,
        But let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into. Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo,
    Or dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
    Since summer first was leavy.
        Then sigh not so, 
        But let them go,
    And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
    Into. Hey, nonny, nonny.

Sara performed her role perfectly and proudly walked out onto the stage with the rest of the ensemble for a final bow before heading back to her dressing room to change.

After the show, Tom and Lily informed her of the plans for the cast to gather at Standing Stone for an after show celebration. Sara agreed to meet them all there and gathered her things together.

As she exited the theater, she noticed a tall, handsome young man standing near the door with a bundle of roses in his hands. He spotted her and smiled as he headed her way.

"You were amazing tonight!" he exclaimed.
"Um.. thank you." Sara replied, wondering if she knew this fellow.
"I'm sorry.. how rude of me." he said, noticing her confusion at his abruptness. "I'm Matt. I'm a friend of Diane's and she's been talking about what a wonderful job you've done in the role of Hero here. I had to come see it for myself." he explained as he handed the roses to her. They were white, her favorite.
"Oh, I see! It's nice to meet you, Matt. My name is Sara.. though, I suppose you already knew that." she answered, blushing a little.

The boy was devilishly handsome and Sara was having a hard time not staring at his bright blue eyes as they looked at her through his shaggy brown hair. She felt breathless and a little intimidated in his presence and could not figure out why. It was uncomfortable and wonderful at the same time and Sara found herself stifling the desire to reach out and sweep the curled tendrils from his forehead so she could get a better look at his face.

"I was just on my way over to Standing Stone for a drink with my cast mates. Would.. would you like to join us?" she eagerly awaited his response.
"Yes! Yes, I would." he answered with a big smile, showing off his straight white teeth again. He turned and offered her his elbow, which she gladly took as they walked down the street toward the restaurant enjoying the warm summer night.

Never Let Go - Part 1

I enjoy a challenge now and then. So, this morning I was feeling a little stumped on what to blog about. What did I do? I went to my lovely followers on Twitter (all 540 of them) and asked them for an 'interesting topic or, better yet, a creative writing prompt'..

My good friend, Mary, from my local writing group gave me this gem:
"You find something other than lint in your pocket. It brings back memories.."

Now, let's get to work!
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Sara pulled her jacket tighter as she walked down the front steps outside her apartment building. She was starting to doubt that she would ever get used to the cold here in Chicago as she pulled the zipper all the way up to her chin.

As she walked down the street, she lamented the fact that she had once again forgotten to slip on some gloves and she shoved her hands deep in her pockets. Only this time she found more than lint in the left one.

Hmm, what's this then? she thought. She hadn't worn these jeans since moving from Ashland, Oregon to Chicago last May. What could this be? she wondered as she wrapped her fingers around a crumpled piece of paper and pulled it out.

Sara assumed it was likely just an old receipt or shopping list.

But it wasn't.

She unfolded the small piece of notebook paper and immediately recognized Matt's slightly messy handwriting. Matt. He was practically the whole reason she'd left Ashland. Not that anyone knew that. They all assumed it was simply for pursuit of bigger roles in bigger theatres. But no, this move was even more of an escape than donning a costume and sauntering onto a stage.

God, I miss him.. Sara thought to herself as she gently smoothed the softened paper and walked street littered with red-gold and brown leaves. It wasn't much. Just a short note that he'd tucked in one of her books while visiting her one night, a short note with a poem.

My lovely Sara,
I'm so glad we got to spend this evening together. I won't ever forget it. I won't ever forget how you looked tonight, with your hair pulled up, and your silky blue dress that looked like it was made just for you.. Those soft tendrils of brown hair grazing your cheek, your neck.. I longed to be a lock of that hair, to rest against your smooth skin like that. It would be heaven to me. Thank you for going to dinner and dancing with me. I never imagined I would be so lucky as to have a girl like you in my life. But here you are. I will never let you go.

All my love,
Matt

the sun, moon, and stars
their beauty and wonder pale
when compared to yours

A chill went down her spine as she read his words. It felt like years had passed since that night. But in reality it had only been months. Still, the months had dragged on, full of confusion, joy, and pain. Sara was just so relieved to be far away from him now.

to be continued...

The Package

So I was over at Kids and Daiquiris and she posted this... interesting picture and challenged us talented types to go ahead and make a story about it.. I mean really. It's just begging for some creative yarn spinner to come along and truly bring it to life. As always, I'm up for the challenge.. I think. Here goes...



So there I was, dressed for prom. I know, I know.. dashing right? My date's mom had dropped her off, and she and I were waiting patiently for our friends to pick us up.. because, you know, I'm so cool that I'm about to graduate high school and I don't even have a car. So, we're waiting on the front steps of my house and this UPS truck comes barreling down the street like it's delivering a baby instead of packages.. only it swerves just before my house and runs up the embankment! Imagine, you're sitting there with your date, and all of a sudden this big honkin' brown delivery truck just comes crashing up onto the sidewalk in front of your house! Okay, I guess not all the way onto the sidewalk.. but still. Whatever.
So it comes crashing and we're sitting there, mouths agape, catching flies, watching, and this gigantic hairy man-beast thing jumps out of the back of the truck with a package and just runs off down the street! I mean, I don't know if it was Big Foot.. or Sasquatch.. or whatever they call that creature thing.. or if it was just some dude in a costume.. but damn! We were all, "Woah! Did you see that!" Unfortunately, Kim (that was my date.. Kim) couldn't get her camera up in time, I mean.. it was in her hands and all since we had just had my mom take pictures and crap.. but still, she managed to miss Mr. Beast man. Lame.
Then we heard the sirens. Yep, sirens. Apparently the cops were totally chasing this UPS truck before it crashed. I don't know why, maybe they knew about Big Foot being a stow away or maybe they just wanted to give the dude a speeding ticket.. whatever. But they pull up and hop out and start talking to the UPS dude. They weren't close enough for us to hear them though.. and the chubby one totally gave us the evil eye when we started casually walking closer.. Whatever.
So, we sit back down on the steps outside my front door.. and as if things weren't weird enough, then the front door opens and someone grabs Kim by her arm and just yanks her inside the house! What the hell?
So I get up and go inside to, wondering what the heck is going on.. and there is Sasquatch himself! or rather.. herself. Turns out she is Kim's grandma! No shit. I know.. I was shocked too.
So Grandma Big Foot unzips this costume she's wearing and pulls out this little bity sewing machine and asks if Kim would mind taking a picture of me holding it with the truck in the back ground.. so she could like, remember the moment or something. I don't know.
Anyway, she was very vague about the rest of the story.. something about Grandpa Sasquatch trying to send off her sewing machine so she'd quit making weird costumes and her car-jacking the UPS truck to get it back.. only disguised.. or something. I don't know, it all sounded kinda fishy to me...
Whatever.

Succumb..

Here is a bit of 'weekend writing' for you.. something that doesn't normally make it to my blog. I prefer to stick with story telling on here, it tends to be more interesting. But I do these as well, usually scribbled on note book paper with a good old fashioned pencil, as practice for imagery, metaphors and adjective use. It may sound a bit scrambled as I wrote it over a couple of days rather than sitting down and pounding it out in an hour or so like my other posts. So, be nice. Here you go.. enjoy.

She dropped to her knees at the base of the tall redwood tree. She was alone now and she let her forehead rest against the spongy rough bark. She gasped for breath, her chest heaving up and down and her whole body shook. I can't run anymore.. I can't. She couldn't even remember why she had started running in the first place, let alone what she was running from.

Her feet hurt. Her legs hurt. The muscles in her back and arms spasmed in protest, threatening to no longer support her. Rolling her head along the trunk of the tree, she twisted her body in the dirt until she was sitting on the forest floor. The twigs and needles and leaves crunched under the weight of her body on the earth beneath her. Rays of sunshine streamed down through the trees like fingers reaching out to her from heaven.

It seemed as if there was a beast chasing her. She'd been running from it her whole life. A beast with fangs and claws that longed to devour her from the inside out. A beast bent on her destruction, bringing her tragedy after tragedy, heart ache upon heart ache. She just wanted it to end. She was tired of fighting.

Beads of sweat mingled with tears began to roll down her face. She leaned her head back on the great strong tree, her black hair tangling in the bark of the ancient trunk. She didn't want to cry, and angrily wiped the salty fluids from her cheeks as more formed in the corners of her eyes. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth from the sun chasing the cool breeze off her eyelids as her body trembled with loneliness.

Loneliness. Aching longing and loneliness. She'd all but given up on love. The sting of betrayal had shattered her trust, but her loyalty still burned with a ferocity that rivaled this beast that she couldn't seem to shake. She knew that if she gave up hope now, that the beast would catch up to her. It would swallow her whole. At this point? That didn't sound so bad. And she wondered if anyone would even take notice of her absence.

"It's not fair." she said through gritted teeth, breaking the silence of her earthen sanctuary. A raven in the tree above her squawked in protest to her noise.. her interruption of nature's moment of silence. She gazed up at the stately bird who leered back down at her, pointing at her with his large black beak. His eyes bored into her soul, hard black marbles in his feathery head. He squawked at her again, egging her on.. taunting her. Go on.. let go. Just let go.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging her shivering legs close to her body. Her long crimson dress falling around her like a pool of blood on the floor of the forest. All of her old wounds were breaking open and she didn't know how to stop the bleeding.. it felt as though she was dying a very slow and painful death. Slowly dying of a broken heart.

She dropped her head onto her arms and let the sensations wash over her. Succumbing to the huge dark wave of emotion, cold and bitter. Lapping at her body, drenching her in sorrow. She wept there. Great heaving sobs, her body jolting with the intensity as tears poured down her face and rolled down her neck to her bare chest.

Exhaustion crept in, slithering through the forest, ready to pounce. She looked up again to see that the raven was still there, perched in the tree above her, watching over her. The fatigue covered her like the canopy of night as the sun set, casting rays of orange, gold, and red through the forest. She lay down on the earth, still quivering and shaking. All the feeling drained out of her and her muscles finally relaxed their tension. She was utterly spent as she lay there, curled on the dirt, her fingers slowly twisting in the dead foliage beneath her. She closed her eyes as darkness descended and drifted off into a deep and heavy sleep.

Fun With Squirrels..

One of the many things I love about living in Iowa is a little something we call backyard wildlife. No, I don't mean that we have wild parties with drinking binges and drugs and puking and stuff in our backyards where everyone gets so inebriated that they don't remember what happened the next morning as they wake up covered in leaves and twigs under the back porch... Or perhaps that is what's going on and I just don't realize it due to the fact that the participants are of the non-human variety. Maybe I don't know just how 'wild' our wildlife is?

We frequently (as in, nearly daily) spot all types of critters in our yard ranging in several different kinds of birds, to squirrels, to bunnies, and of course deer, raccoons and possums. It is not unusual for one to interrupt ladies night on my lawn among the neighborhood deer if one is to venture out late in the evening. The other night I opened the back door to go out and push the bikes and skateboards the rest of the way into the garage so I could shut the door after putting the kids to bed and was greeted by 3 deer outside my back door. Two were lounging lazily in the grass and the third (presumably Mama Deer as she was the biggest) was grazing. I just stopped where I was and stood silently watching them, them watching me.. eventually they decided that if I wasn't going to go away, they would, and off they pranced into the neighbors yard (their grass is probably better anyway).

My daughter is convinced that someday she will catch and hold a squirrel or a bunny. We've actually had bunnies nest in our yard.. the first batch was found with a lawn mower.. eeeewww. That was messy. They certainly are entertaining to watch though.

Our neighbors have a bird haven in their backyard with several feeders and a pedestal bath in the center of their lawn. The kids have enjoyed learning the names of some various birds and watching the squirrels mess with them - stealing their food and chattering at them from the trees.

I won't even get started on the fun Molly had with the squirrels.. since I'm still rather saddened by her absence. But you can imagine what entertainment would come from having a lab/pointer mix on a 30' line in a yard filled with squirrels.

Squirrels are little hellions. Their kind of like a pack of six year old boys who have been raised by wolves and live on a diet of sugar and sugar-coated sugar.

My parents also live in Iowa. Yep, they do. They also have lots of backyard wildlife to enjoy down in their neck of the woods. Amazing, I know. And I know for a fact that their wildlife is most certainly the partying variety.. they leave quite the mess of beer bottles and cigar stubs around my parents yard.

My mother has a bird house on a pole. Sound weird? It is. Okay, not really if you're looking at it.. but still. It's a metal pole, don't worry it will all make sense... She likes to keep it well stocked all year since it's directly in line with her kitchen window and that way she has something to keep her entertained while she washes her dishes. As fall attacked with a vengeance: temperatures dropping 20 degrees a day, plants shriveling like grapes on a hot day, and leaves dropping from the trees like clothes off a hooker.. mom noticed that the bird-feeder-on-a-pole was emptying almost as fast a she could fill it.

"What the..??" she wondered to herself as she refilled it for the 257th time in one day..

The next day, she kept vigil by her kitchen window, determined to figure out who was pigging out on her seeds. It didn't take long for the snack bandit to make itself known. Before long, she spied a squirrel, a fat furry little bugger, running full speed across the yard and scurrying up the metal pole.. Yep, the metal pole that was there for the purpose of deterring the squirrels who might rob a bird house were it hanging in a tree.

Stunned, my mother began to ponder ways she might be able to thwart young squirrel's quest for the birdie goodies. "A-ha!" she exclaimed as she opened her cupboard and grabbed the can of Crisco.

The next morning, she got up early. It was o'dark thirty and she donned her black sweat suit and ski mask, grabbed her trusty can o' Crisco and headed out the back door into the crisp fall morning. She snuck stealthily over to the bird-house-on-a-pole and squatted down in the grass beside it, opening her can o' Crisco. She scooped up some of the cool, slimy grease and began rubbing it all up and down the metal pole. When she was finished, she packed up her weapon of mass deterrence and headed back indoors.

Later that morning, as she was scrubbing the morning dishes, she watched carefully through her window for Mr. Climb-a-pole-and-steal-another-poor-defenseless-animal's-food. Sure enough, after a few minutes she spotted the little glutton jockeying for position off in the corner of the yard. He took aim and shot across the yard in a blur of brown fuzz and claws and launched himself at the pole.

Thunk.. sshhllllliiiiink.. plop. Lather, rinse, repeat. No cookie for you.

Naturally, mom laughed hysterically and dad came to see what the ruckus was about. Then, he too got to join in on the giggle-fest as they watched Mr. Not-so-clever-as-he-thought-he-was Squirrel repeatedly throw himself with wild abandon at the treat on a stick, only to slide pitifully back to the ground over and over.

I think next time mom should let dad camp out by the fire pit with a bee-bee gun, catch the little hoodlum, and put him on a stick. Forget weenie roast, let's have a squirrelly roast!

Sitemeter makes me giggle: this post earned me a page view from someone who googled 'opossoms spaying and rubbing there head on tree pic'... yeah, you know who you are...

a night swim

There she was.. floating where the water met sky, staring up at the stars. She held as still as she could, listening to the water and feeling it lap around her body on her skin. It feels like home. She pulls her feet down under herself and ducks her head under the water, her arms stretching out in front of her as if reaching to push aside a curtain. She kicks her legs and dives down deeper, water rushing past her limbs as her feet flutter behind her. Then up again to the surface where she draws in another breath and water rolls off her head and down her neck.

She remembers wishing, as a child, that she were a mermaid. Wanting to live in the water, never having to leave. Never having to feel her ears flood or see her fingers and toes wrinkle. No longer having to come up for air. Weightless and graceful she glides through the lake, her limbs carrying her faster, the coolness washing away the stress of her day. Up her head pops for a quick breath and then down she goes again, drawing nearer to the shore. She begins to feel the plants growing up from the sandy bottom brush against her legs, like thousands of tiny gentle fingers tickling her. Like the touch of her children's hands. Her head rises once more out of the water and she spins around, stretching out on her back again. She gazes up to the full moon and thanks God for the water. Closing her eyes her arm extends above her head and scoops behind her, paddling her closer to land.. Home? This feels more like home to me..

Opening her eyes she stands in the water, close to the shore now, barely deep enough to swim. She pauses, sweeps her hands through the dark water, not wanting to leave. Then, slowly, she walks to the water's edge, enjoying the water swirling around her legs and body. She softly steps onto the sand and finds her towel in the dark, warm from the summer night. Wrapping it around her, she turns back once more and stares out at the still waters.. it's as if she was never there. Perfect.

Good night, my friend... Good night.

idiots on the internet.. not for the faint of heart!

J: "Speaking of leg-humping dogs.. my co-worker told me a funny story the other day.."

I know, I know.. not the conversation you'd expect to have while eating brunch at Cracker Barrel with your best friend (E) and his wife (R) before they fly back to California.. But, what can I say, I married a man with panache. (Yes, I did.. so shaddup.)

J: "So my co-worker knows a lady up north a bit who frequents some of Iowa's illustrious bike trails. One day, she's out on the trail riding and hears a noise, just off the trail, up ahead.. She peeks over as she's passing and there, pretty much out in the open, is a lady who's totally going at it with some dude.. like going way downtown on him. Shocked (and, not to mention a bit disgusted) by her discovery, she just continued on her way and tried to forget what she just saw. She didn't want to let the image linger too long for fear of recognizing them.. it is, after all, a pretty small town. Little did she know, she was in for much worse.."

He paused as the waitress poured more coffee in our mugs and glanced at the kids to make sure they were still ravenously devouring their food (I swear, you'd think we never feed them..) and not paying attention to the boring grown-up talk. He leaned in, lowered his voice a bit, and continued..

J: "So, the next time she's out on the trail, she's passing by the SAME spot and hears noises again. She, rather hesitantly, looks over again as she passes.. only this time she sees a man on all fours with a dog behind him, giving it to him.. well.. doggie style."

R: "No! Are you serious??"

J: "Yes. But wait, it gets better. So when she gets home, she thinks 'That's enough. I need to report this to someone.' So she calls the department of parks and rec or animal control or something, and tells her story. The lady on the other end, a friend of said trail patron, is rather disturbed by the tale at first.. then, she says 'Wait.. what did the dog look like??' So the woman describes the dog to her. 'Oh... gosh. that's MY dog.. um.. shoot... .. What did the man look like?' So she describes the man to her.. 'Oh shit! That's Uncle Bob! Dang it... We told him not to do that in public anymore!'"

(insert shocked laughter here)

R: "No way!"
E: "In public!?! As in 'It's fine at home, Bob.. but please, not in public!'?"
R: "Seriously, who DOES that?? Can the dude not get a girlfriend? or does he just prefer canines?"
Me: "Well.. Some people do.."
J: "True, there's whole p*rn sites dedicated to it. Besides, I guess the guy is a little retarded."
Me: "Um.. yeah. I think you'd have to be to do it in public.. with a DOG."
R: "It really begs the question.. how does one get a dog to DO that??"
Me: "Exactly. I mean, it's not exactly and instinctual behavior.."
R: "Unless, perhaps, he found some way of extracting the scent of a bitch in heat and rubbed it on his nethers.."
J: "Well, apparently it's not TOO hard to figure out.. After all, the guy isn't that bright."
E: "Well, he probably doesn't have to be Einstein. I'm sure any idiot with internet access could figure it out."

Me: "Dude. You just described the entire United States."