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musings of madness

it's a bumpy ride

LJI 12 Native RedBird
The small girl in her buckskins was barely noticeable. She had fallen asleep under a huckleberry bush. Her buckets were full, as well as her stomach, and there were two hares in her deerskin pouch. The berries, and venison jerky she ate along with it, her excuse for needing the nap. A knife tucked into her waistband lent a measure of comfort and safety, along with the bow, and its quiver full of arrows sitting nestled between her shoulders.

As she slept, the veil between present and future came asunder. Her unconscious awareness rose from her sleeping body and continued until it reached the buffalo plains of the elders. Someone (it could of been her) chanted, while other voices sung the prayers for divination, and power flowed and ebbed through and around her.

Delicately wrapping Red Bird's spirit with a cushion of air, the Ancestors blew her through tunnels created in time. At reaching her destination, the Elders instructed her to wake, and gaze into the future.

"Red Bird look. Open your inner eye, and understand the danger that is coming to our world ." Red Bird's eyes sprung open.

She stood on the top of dunes, where beaches met a green sea far off on the other side of The People's vast lands. A westerly wind was blowing, and some distance out in the water, sat a great wooden craft. Death stood at its helm. And Death was not alone.

He and his companions came disguised as men, but they were unlike any men she'd ever known. Their canoe-like long boats landed along the shoreline, and Red Bird's gift of sight stripped their masks away. She gasped as she saw these vessels had come helmed by Pestilence and Famine, Sorrow and War.

She felt immediate fear for her people. She had to warn them. With her connection to the vision fading, Red Bird hurriedly asked the Elders. "Dearest Ancestors, how long do The People have before this future comes to pass?"

The Elders replied. "Before two handfuls of generations pass, you need to gather Our People; As many as will follow the buffalo to their northern breeding grounds. Go far beyond these Blackhills and valleys of Six Pillar Mountain. You will find rest by the "Waters of the Spirit" and there will be others to help you."

"Now awaken Red Bird, and tell your grandmother, Medicine Hat what you have seen."


Her hands trembled as she accepted the ceremonial totem from her grandmother's hand. Medicine Hat nodded and squeezed Red Bird's arm slightly in reassurance. Red Bird drew her shoulders straight, sucked in a breath, and with a strength of voice belying her eleven years, she began to speak.

This is an Op Ed from Dan Rather:
I tried very hard not to write of politics this first week in LJI, but now I think I should've. I've been off and on sobbing all day. Grieving for fellow victims, terrified for my LGBTQ friends, and especially family, is soul crushing. Anyhoo, without going on any longer (don't want to pull a Collins) here's Dan Rather's Op-ed:

So Collins misses her moment to be a hero, and the old bulls win again. Trump, McConnell, Grassley, Hatch, Graham—the whole lot of them-- win. Again. They are laughing, congratulating one another, and at least metaphorically are popping Champagne.

For most women and many men it’s a bitter, devastating loss. Which makes it all the sweeter for the old bulls, and for the forces of power, privilege and money everywhere. A sense that the nation’s climate of justice has taken another turn toward dark clouds rises. The age-old question for the country of whether we prioritize power, privilege and money over justice takes on renewed importance.

So I talk to the wife—the good, gentle wife—who is furious and deeply disappointed. Talk to my daughter—the lion-hearted eldest child—whose first words are, “Can we, will we survive this?” I answer, “Of course we can, and if we have the will and the spirit, we will not only, survive we will thrive. Eventually. But if, and only if, we are “get-up fighters.” Strong as she usually is, she doesn’t seem convinced.

So, I take a walk, to be alone with my thoughts and reminders to stay steady. Among the thoughts that emerge are these:

Cut through the clouds of the present, consider the long river of history, and one can see this as a breakthrough moment for women. To paraphrase the daughter who recently said in another context, "women have never had a better moment to be heard in politics, to make a difference.” That is, if they—and those of us men who support them—seize the moment (if they don’t miss the moment as Senator Collins has.)

What that requires is that women and the men who love them and hate what has happen adopt an attitude of “we can be beaten but never defeated.” Adopt it, cling to it and live it as a credo.

Be relentless. When things are bad, when the going is tough, just keep putting one foot in front of the other and carry forward. Also, maybe take as a goal what an old man once said to me: "keep trying, keep fighting, keep smiling every minute you’re alive; you’re going to be dead a long time.”

And recognize that you are not alone. Far from it. Look to your left and right, before you and behind you, at the millions who will support you on this journey for justice. Fill your lungs with the determined air of action. I find myself humming that old but powerful anthem of the Civil Rights Era. "We'll walk hand in hand!" "We are not afraid!" "We shall overcome!"

LJI The Fire Faerie's Tale
With a flick and a flurrying of wings, Teine awoke. Cracking open an eye, she quickly filled with fury as opening the other confirmed her colors' continuing absence. Oh, they were there, she could sense them, but her ability to touch, manipulate, or control her brand of fire magic had been set agonizingly out of Tiene's reach. Worse, she was blind to the glorious red, gold, and oranges of fire - her personal element.

Every day Teine spent smouldering against the witch who had cursed her, brought a higher risk of crisping innocent wings, or burning down the glens and forests. In trying to light hearth fires, she'd create bonfires; or if she lost her temper, every candle would come alight - in holders or not, causing chaos and mayhem.

The Council, growing increasingly afraid of Teine's losing herself completely, banned her to the Oceanside. The shores along the sea held a warren of caves, and making a comfortable home should be easy for her. Feeling deep compassion for their sister Faerie, they gifted Teine a lyre, the instrument she cherished most.

Every emotion wound its way into her playing, her nimble fingers coaxing forth melodies and memories, of Autumn leaves and sunsets. Her desperate yearning to touch and be whole with her abilities lay unanswered day after day, the witch's curse remained.

Centuries passing without a change to her affliction were having another effect on Teine, her wings were shriveling, and as they did, she fell perilously close to giving up. Yet, every sunset she'd still be found, playing her lyre to the sky she couldn't see, and strumming and plucking the harmonics of her natural element remaining the only thing worth living for.

One evening the sky fell alight with meteor showers stopping Teine's playing mid-note. Watching them streak across the sky, inspiration struck, and tapping into the last vestiges of hope for herself she began playing an homage to her element. Her runs and trills becoming arpeggios, and finally crescendoing into palettes of amber, bronze, scarlet and more. Teine's pouring of her life into song, touched all living beings around her. The hauntingly ethereal notes causing more than one eye to tear.

Suddenly feeling a wondrous magic only existing in her dreams, a magnificent Unicorn stepped from the ocean waves walking toward Teine. It touched her tear stained cheek with its horn, shattering the witch's curse, and causing her shriveled wings to unfurl.

Sobbing with overwhelming joy at being whole with her magic, Teine, transformed her tears into rubies, and using strands of her hair, she weaved a brilliant ruby chain. Reverently approaching her savior and draping her offering around the Unicorn's neck, she hoped it would be enough.

Knowing it never could be.

Thank you for reading! All concrit is welcome!

My Grandson's Birthday
SuperBob is turning nine today. Nine. When did this happen? He has changed so much since I last saw him five months ago! He's reminding me a great deal of my son in his mannerisms, and his sense of humor is fully evident, by his silly mugging for the camera.

My daughter, in capturing a small video, has created a Mom-momster, and I've watched it now, I think, a hundred times! I'm calling it the three stages of Bob, and it begins like this:

He's standing in front of a three-tiered, silver dessert tray. It's stuffed with yummy, sprinkled, cupcakes, and at first Bob's arms are crossed; He's hugging his excitement in, as he sings Happy Birthday to, ahem,... ME!

The excitement within him continues building, and now he's barely containing it, so he starts dancing and swaying to help keep himself in control.

Finally, when he's about to burst, the Birthday Song comes to an end! Clapping HARD, Bob lets all that happy energy loose! And now, now comes his reward...
a sweet fluffy cupcake (Or two!) to devour!

*** Video posted in comments

I'm in!!!
I've been waiting for this!Yes,I am in! ✌😊

Just a blurb...
So, what happens to we at the bottom?
When those at the top, play their cruel games?
We at the bottom are struggling and sinking.
Seems the world wants to swallow, and take us away.

Rolling us over
...knocking us under
...gasping for breath
...then we come up again.

Possessions, and treasures,
aren't important for living,
Give us shelter and walls, for keeping us warm.
Let there be bounty, for feeding our family.
and let us be happy,
...healthy and good.

I'm just wishing on a star,
Arms reaching for the moon.
Please Universe.
....Peace Universe,
........Please Universe,
Save of us from doom!

A reading bonus!
Yes! Janny Wurtz just published the long awaited sequel to Initiate's Trial. It's been six years since she's posted anything, and I have missed her voice.
She is my absolute favorite author. If you ever want to read a fantasy series that will take you on a stunning ride- start with Curse of the Mistwraith's. I'm trying to not gobble it up in only two or three days and am actually reading Initiate's Trial again so I remember everything.
Another author I'm very fond of, Michelle Sagara-West, hopefully will finish War soon, I believe that will be the last of Jewel's story, although I hope to see more. There's always plenty to dive into with MSW. She is prolific and writes three series currently. These two ladies kick GRRM butt also in story building. If you want to read MSW's Jewel series you have to start with Hunter's Oath. I've read this series twice and there are 14 books and counting!

In a different vein, am gathering wool for whenever Idol writing starts. How many peeps go back through their old work and correct it, or think about sequel pieces? Are writing some of the same characters considered lazy? There are a few I've come up with I wouldn't mind continuing, like Fox and Sam. We'll see. I may just write some for November and push myself to write everyday. I've noticed my fingers get tired, and that's when I double tap or hit the wrong key more. I'll have to do some heavy editing!

Anyhoo, that's it peeps! I'll talk with you later! Peace and hugs! ✌💗🐀🐁

Kickin' the can in the ole noggin again...
These next few posts I imagine, will be tough. My tremors are getting extreme, and my hands go places of their own accord. I'm hoping if I write a little more it will help me to gain control. As it is now, I double tap, swipe in two or three letters at a time, or simply just scrape and press the wrong letter altogether.

It's a morass of churny feelings too. People who knew before are shocked by the manifestation of me that they see before them. I've lost about forty pounds, am on oxygen, and am hobbling with my cane. Altogether not the picture of hyperness that they expect! (The forty pound weight loss is nice though!)

I am constantly going to Doctors visits, and the positive I've found about oxygen is they don't have you wait too long. I don't know when/if I'll be weaned from it. It depends on the congestive heart failure.

This is what I've got for now kids! I'll be writing to you soon! :)

Home Sweet Home!
I am out of rehab! Yay! I'll have Doctor visits out the wazoo and visiting nurses 3days a week, but it feels. Good to be amongst my own things. I
Thank you all for your well wishes and concern. It made the stay easier. (Along with reading your entries) Hugs and love and peace too you all~~~D

Autism files...
When my grandson was an eighteen month old toddler, I began asking my daughter about his speech and comprehension skills, followed by his motor skills and movements. Autism - I knew by the time of his birth- was now a known genetic trait and I did not wish its myriad difficulties (and joys) upon my daughter.

It also didn't sit well that the trait was carried mostly by the mother, and my asshole marine son-in-law would have a field day torturing my beautiful bratgirl with the fact that this was all her fault-he had nothing to do with it.

The "Super-Bobbers" wasn't talking yet either, but his speech could be delayed, which seemed to be everyone's consensus, but the back of my neck niggled with grandmother's intuition.

To my daughter's annoyance, however, I would gently ask her if he was speaking yet every time we chatted. "A little bit." She replied. And in her quiet response, the same type she had as a child, I knew she was a bit worried herself, but not at the stage of needing a diagnosis - or dealing with her husband's derision.

She, my Marine son in law, and my grandson, were still living in South Carolina at the time, so I didn't get to see them as often as I'd like. Yet, when I did see them I would make sure that I hinted on Autism Spectrum. Not to unjustly antagonize my son-in-law's 'authority' but from genuine concern.

Usually though whatever I suggested was not received well by the 'Fatigued' ogre. To me, the biggest thing was my super-little dude's safety, and my son-in law's RESPONSIBILITY was to acquire it.

Meanwhile, my grandson was running out of that magical space of time between one to six years, where Autistic children have the ability to form new neural pathways, and rewire some of their brain. Grandma was not about to let that happen! Not if we could find a way to communicate with him.

So I challenged my SON-in-law. Get him checked by an independent scholastic psychiatrist for autism. If it turned out he wasn't on the spectrum- great! I'd never say another word about it. If he was, we would find out where to go from there.

How did I know these things? My son is Autistic. I learned how to deal with those who stared or shunned me because of my child's behaviour. I wanted a different outcome for my sweet daughter, and my happy, oblivious, grandbaby.

Sure enough, when the super-baby was tested, Autistic he was. To my credit not once did I dig at my Marine Son in Law about it.

Since he has been diagnosed my super dude has had speech, behavioral, occupational- and more, for four years now. He is verbal, affectionate, and a great kid to be around, though still obviously Autistic. I do wonder how much further we could have gotten if we had caught it early, but nothing good ever comes from that.

Please do not miss your child's second year evaluation/pediatric visit. This is when most cases are identified, and more children are able to be helped.

My family did because of relocating from South Carolina to Delaware and life took over.

Don't let frustration, fear and life cost you your Super-dude. Schools are equipped with the skilled staff needed to help them-and you- break down the walls. You never know who is hiding inside them!!