tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49471024614310170682024-03-13T23:42:33.160-07:00OZLANDISH WRITINGSA writing challenge in SecondLife®. Writings inspired by works of art in the OZLAND Art GallerySven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.comBlogger714125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-21418193438735055342023-06-20T22:51:00.002-07:002023-06-20T22:51:35.989-07:00It's June 2023It's June 2023 and I still read back at the stories I wrote. All are welcome to read them. Stories are PG and you can even read them to your children. Stay well Everyone! hugzzzzzzzzzz
LlolaLlola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-58289989052870306412022-05-23T03:57:00.001-07:002022-05-23T03:57:18.107-07:00We are still aboutAdding a post now and then to keep this collection of writings availableSven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-16346278734629405032015-12-16T11:23:00.002-08:002015-12-16T11:23:21.174-08:00We are still writing !Just a year since we stopped holding the writing events in Ozland and Llola and Sven are still writing and reading them out in voice. <br />
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This December we have 2 new stories on our own new blog <a href="http://snlwrite.blogspot.com/">http://snlwrite.blogspot.com/</a> and are presenting them in support of Toys For Tots in the Inworldz grid.<br />
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<br />Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-42966535788574381672014-12-31T10:05:00.001-08:002014-12-31T10:05:19.052-08:00"A New Year" by Llola Lane"A New Year" by Llola Lane<br /><br />As I look at the candle's flame flickering in the window I realize that all too soon the Christmas decorations will be taken down and a new year will begin. My mind is transported back through the past year. A lot has happened in my life and I am grateful for every little adventure and sad for loved ones passed.<br /><a name='more'></a><br />2014 started out horribly. Our cat, Peanut, of 16+ years passed away a few weeks after the clock struck midnight. It was a long sorrowful month and I miss her terribly, but am grateful she doesn't have to suffer any longer. <br /><br />This rest of the year was spent going camping... shopping... living my Second Life... writing and working on my 3D Art. I created over 350 pieces of art and won contests in various forums. My writing has slowed down but I try and force myself to get words into my computer. I enjoy my RL writers group and we have vowed to visit each other more often than once a month in the New Year. They are such a happy group and they inspire me. <br /><br />In the New Year I have a lot planned. My new year’s resolution list is growing and I am not sure how much I will be able to accomplish. As with all things time changes and we must change with it. In the New Year I want to write more and maybe even publish a picture book with my writings and my 3D art. I have a few pieces of art that are screaming for a story and I must let them out before I bust. My plan is to also make more podcasts of my stories and create some YouTube videos of my artwork. <br /><br />I plan on visiting some friends in England... and maybe even Toronto. I know hubby and I will make another trip to Michigan sometime in the New Year and we will camp as much as the weather will allow us to. It will be fun to see if I can get all I have planned done by the end of 2015. <br /><br />Now to end 2014 with a wish. I wish for all my family and friends to have a grand new year and, just like me, I wish for you all a new beginning. Start a new adventure... Be a new person... but most of all ENJOY your life!<br />Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-24416643889382062842014-12-30T20:56:00.000-08:002015-01-12T20:56:54.722-08:00"Family Photo" by Llola Lane"Family Photo" by Llola Lane<br />
(Inspired by the From our Family greeting card)<br />
<br />
Papa checked the tripod to make sure it was steady. He wanted the
family photo this year to be perfect. None of those "store bought"
photo greeting cards from HIS family. He knew how to work a camera.
Paying someone was just spending money foolishly. Looking through the
camera he peered at his family. <br />
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The children were restless. Junior was tugging at his new hat and
Sister was messing with her bow. The only one who was cool, calm and
collected was Mama. She looked her Sunday best in her new bright red
Christmas hat. She had bought each of them a new hat and she smiled as
she looked around at her family.<br />
<br />
The scenery was perfect. The freshly fallen snow made a wonderful
blanket under the giant willow tree Papa had found earlier that day. He
had scouted all around the village until he found what he thought was
the perfect spot. The extra bits of brush and grass added a touch of
color against the bright white snow and grayness of the willow. The
background coordinated wonderfully with their snowy white bodies. The
bright colored hats Mama bought popped a bit of color in an otherwise
monochromatic scene. <br />
<br />
"Now smile big for the camera," Papa ordered. "The timer will start
beeping faster just before the shutter opens. I will take a few just to
make sure we get a good photo. Junior... I will stand between you and
Mama. Make room for me please."<br />
<br />
"Yes Papa," Junior muttered under his breath. He was missing his
friends and wanted to go play. Sister kept bumping him with her new
hat. "Stop fidgeting Sister... you're making dents in my chest!" He
growled at her.<br />
<br />
"You're standing too close. Give me more room then," she ordered to her brother. <br />
<br />
Mama was getting tired of their arguing and chimed in... "If you both
stand still this will go MUCH faster and Papa will let us ALL go home."
She smiled at her husband. She knew he was working as fast as he
could. <br />
<br />
"The camera is already... Ok... Family... now... SMIIIIIIILE!!!" He
pressed the button and quickly took his place between Mama and Junior.
"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep” and the lens opened just as a big
drift of snow fell on the family from the tree.<br />
<br />
They were all covered with snow. Their new brightly colored hats were
now all white. Everyone shook the snow off as best they could and had a
big laugh. They looked at each other and couldn't help but laugh.
Papa laughed the loudest when he went to check the camera and saw the
photo it had taken. He showed the family and they all roared louder
with laughter.<br />
<br />
"OK family... let's try this again... Now that we are all dusted off and
clean," said Papa sternly. This was taking way longer than he thought
it would. Maybe having a store photo would have been quicker?
"Nawwww..." he said to his self..."I'm going to get a great family
photo, if it takes me all night!" And with that he set the camera up to
take another photograph and quickly stood in his spot.<br />
<br />
"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" ... check the picture... Junior was
moving... "Grrrrrrrr"... "Ok... Family... need to take another.
Junior... STOP MOVING. Stand still everyone." Reset the camera... run
to his spot... <br />
<br />
"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" ... whooooooooooooooooooooshhhhhh...
The wind blows everyone’s hat off. They are scurrying to grab them in
the photograph. Reset the camera... run to his spot... Perspiration is
running down his forehead. <br />
<br />
"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" "Darn... grrrrrrrr"... Reset the camera... run to his spot... <br />
<br />
"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" ... An hour later Papa FINALLY had a
good photo for the family greeting cards. He had taken over 25 photos
and now he had his prized family photo. <br />
<br />
As they made their way back home Papa showed everyone the photos he had
taken on the camera. They were so funny the family couldn't stop
laughing. "We had better quit laughing before we melt," said Sister.
But that just made everyone laugh all the harder. "This was a fun day
Papa," said Junior, and Mama kissed his forehead. It was nice to have
the family together, and forever how long it lasted she now had photos
to remember them all by. <br />
<br />
They talked about the saying for the greeting card and everyone agreed to... "FROM OUR FAMILY TO YOURS... HAPPY HOLIDAYS!"Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-26951650690663761712014-12-30T19:10:00.001-08:002014-12-30T19:11:13.464-08:00The Old Gang – Lillian MorporkThe Old Gang – Lillian Morpork<br />
<br />
Alex Mitchell sighed and looked around. All the old gang were here, just the way they had been that New Year’s Eve so many years ago. Older yes; many white haired, some bald or balding; not as slender and agile, but still the same group as had gathered here forty five years ago. He smiled contentedly, and sipped his drink. Nancy looked over and smiled, too, lifted her glass and glanced around at the people, then took a sip. Yes, she understood how he was feeling; all of them together again to celebrate yet another new year.<br />
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AS he looked around, he named them off in his mind. There were Jeff and Grace Winston, Rob and Sally Wright, Tony and Sophia Greco, Hiroshi and Yoshiko Oshita, Tom and Gwyneth Jones, Isaac and Becky Greenburg and Ian and Maggie MacGregor. The gang that first got together in grade ten, back in 1969 plus Hiroshi and Yoshiko. His musing was interrupted by Tom Jones and Yoshiko.<br />
<br />
“Lex, I have been trying to convince Yoshi here that we really did dress the gargoyles on the roof of Parkhurst Hall in the Dean’s and President’s robes. She says it’s impossible, they are too high to get up to. Tell her we did, ok?”<br />
<br />
Alex laughed and said “Yup, we did, and now when I think about it I agree, they are too high. But in those days, we would try anything. Boy it was hard to do! We only had a quarter-moon to give us light, and the ladder was at its full extension; getting the robes and stuff up there was an adventure. Then we had to cut and tie them in place. We were considerate enough to take old robes, since we knew we’d have to cut them. There were several times when I thought I was going to fall, trying to reach around the gargoyle while Tom here was just below me handing stuff up. They looked great when we were done, though! We had to pay almost all of our allowances to the Dean and President for the rest of that year to replace the robes. It wasn’t fair because they were old ones, but it would have been a lot more if we’d taken the good ones, which were handier.” Laughing, he shook his head. “We decided after that to think about the cost in case we were caught, before we pulled any other stunts.”<br />
<br />
Yoshiko was laughing and shaking her head. “Hiroshi has been telling me some of the things you did, but I didn’t really believe him; though I was part of the gang after I came to live here. I always managed to keep on the sidelines when you nuts went off on one of your pranks.” <br />
<br />
By this time everyone was gathered around the fireplace, getting comfortable. For a moment there was silence as they all gazed at the flames. Then Jeff Wilson said “Remember the Christmas when we had the big power outage? We’d been out carol singing, and had just got back, dying for some hot chocolate and cookies, when bam! the lights went out.”<br />
<br />
Becky Greenburg laughed and said “oh, yes, I remember the mad scramble finding candles and flashlights, everyone running around with lighters and matches. It’s a wonder we didn’t set something on fire. Fortunately, the fire was still going in the fireplace, so we were able to use it to heat up some stew and make the hot chocolate. We spent the rest of the night singing carols and telling ghost tales”<br />
<br />
“Yes, that was a fun night. My favourite, though, was when our class at university decided to raise money for special equipment for Sick Kids’ Hospital. The majority decided to make candies and cookies, and our girls got together and made that whacking great pile of stuff! They made three times more than all the rest put together.” Ian MacDonald chuckled. <br />
<br />
“True, Ian,” Gwyneth said, “and you bought up half of it!”<br />
<br />
Ian laughed. “Yup, I always did have a sweet tooth.”<br />
<br />
“My favourite time was when we went to the orphanage and helped the kids make decorations. Some of those kids showed real talent. The angels Annie and Laura made were beautiful, and it was all done with scrap materials.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, the kids enjoyed it, too.” Maggie MacDonald smiled, remembering all the smiles and giggles.<br />
<br />
”I think, overall, it’s the winter hikes and cross country ski trips that I remember best.” Tony Greco said. <br />
<br />
“Me too,” his wife Sophia exclaimed, “The silence, the sparkling snow, and the surprises when a squirrel, or some other little creature suddenly appeared and then skittered away. And the Blue Jays or Cardinals flitting around, all so bright and colourful against the snow, it was a magical time.”<br />
<br />
Nancy smiled and sighed. “Yes, I loved those trips. No silly boys getting into trouble, just our group of friends, together enjoying the beauty and peace of nature. I loved all the things we did, all the Christmas decorations and parties and concerts, the birthday bashes, the trips to the lake for swimming, boating and boat races. It was all so wonderful and perfect, even when the guys were in trouble.”<br />
<br />
“We came to it late,” Hiroshi Oshita said, “but I never had as much fun as I did after joining the ditzy dozen!” Yoshiko giggled and agreed. “I was very shocked at first, but it has been wonderful to have all of you as friends.”<br />
<br />
Nancy looked at the clock on the mantle. “Time to fill up the champagne glasses, everyone,” she was interrupted by the clock chiming out the first notes of midnight. Alex, Tony and Ian quickly passed out glasses and filled them. They all stood, raised them high, and chorused “To the Ditzy Dozen plus – a happy and fun filled new year with health and happiness to all,” just as the clock rang the last note, and sounds of cheering, bells and fireworks rose outside. Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-4284685074322084712014-12-17T08:23:00.001-08:002014-12-17T08:23:35.126-08:00Christmas is: by Lillian MorporkChristmas is: by Lillian Morpork<br /><br /><br />Christmas is: candles and candy canes, cookies and carols, Christmas cards and chocolates.<br />Christmas is: holly and happiness, high jinks and holidays, hopefulness and handicrafts.<br />Christmas is: red bows and red noses, reindeer and right poses, ribbons and red roses.<br /><a name='more'></a><br />Christmas is: icicles cold and infant saviours, ice skates and illumination, indoor games and ideal music,<br />Christmas is: Santa Clause and sunny smiles, snowballs and fast snow slides,<br />Christmas is: tall trees and tinsel garlands, tingling toes and twinkling lights, tinkling bells and tiny tots.<br />Christmas is: merry wishes and mommy kisses, money spent and making visits, moving moments with loving mates.<br />Christmas is: angels singing from atop the tree, art work given to you and me, all the loved ones gathered near,<br />Christmas is: songs of joy and peace and love, sung in praise of God above, Saviour’s birth to celebrate.<br />Christmas is all this and more; it’s a promise of life for ever more.<br /><br />Two Acrostic poems – seasonal theme<br />Acrostic poems - first letter of each line spell out a word or phrase <br /><br />Christmas by Lillian Morpork<br /><br />Candles burning brightly,<br />Happy children laughing,<br />Reindeer flying high above,<br />Icicles slowly dripping.<br />Santas on each street corner,<br />Twinkling lights in windows<br />Mother busy baking goodies,<br />Angels singing anthems<br />Songs of new born Saviour<br /><br /><br />Babe in a Manger –acrostic 2 by Lillian Morpork<br /><br />Bring gifts of gold and myrrh<br />And hearts of love and trust.<br />Babe lies in manger poor,<br />Each person given judgment just.<br />Idols broken, all lost and gone,<br />All gone before the face of One.<br /><br />Mighty and holy is our Father God,<br />Angels sing around his throne.<br />Noels greet His only son,<br />Greeting him as he comes into his own.<br />Eager the shepherds come to praise him,<br />Righteous and Royal, the Saviour of all.Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-64392378010964879292014-12-10T11:36:00.001-08:002014-12-17T19:07:06.578-08:00"A Candle in a Window" by Lillian Morpork"A Candle in a Window" by Lillian Morpork<br />
<br />
The young woman stumbled through the snow, shivering, exhausted, but struggling on for the sake of her unborn child. It was so cold the snow squeaked under her feet. The young woman's coat was thin and frayed, and she wore a thin scarf over her head. Her face looked frost bitten, and she could hardly feel her hands and feet. She was weighed down by the large bag that hung from one side, strap crossing from right shoulder to left hip. ‘Please, please, let me find shelter, a warm place for my baby,’ she prayed. ‘You provided a stable for Jesus and my baby is as free of sin. He deserves to live. Just let me find a warm place and kind people, and I will die willingly, if that is your will.’ <br />
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She stumbled on, lifting her eyes to peer ahead, hoping for some sign of life. At last, she saw a flickering light, and, exhausted as she was, managed to move faster. Soon she saw a dark shape ahead; a house, with a candle in the window. All else was dark. Would they let her in? Was the light in the window a signal to benighted strangers that here was warmth and welcome? Staggering to the door, she raised her hand and knocked, then sagged to her knees, her body twisting until her head and shoulders rested against the door, and she knew nothing more.<br />
<br />
Inside there was a stirring, and the light brightened. The door opened and she fell across the threshold. The old man holding the door looked down, and called out “Sarah, it’s a young woman, and she is nearly frozen.” He leaned down and taking her under the arms, pulled her inside. His wife hurried over and closed the door, and together they lifted the limp body and carried her to a bed set into an alcove near the fireplace. While the woman undressed the limp body, the man took stones from the fire and quickly wrapped them. His wife placed them around the girl’s body and covered her with blankets, forming a tent to speed the warming. The man turned several lights on, one beside the bed so his wife could see the girl clearly.<br />
<br />
“Samuel, she is pregnant, ready to deliver. How she ever managed to get here through the deep snow, I don’t know. And where could she have come from?” Sarah sighed and shook her head. “At any rate, we need to prepare for the delivery. I’m going to search out some of the baby clothes I have stored. Will you get water started? And dig out clean sheets; we’ll need them when it’s over.” She bustled off to the lumber room as Samuel stared filled a large cauldron that was hanging it over the fire. When Sarah got back, labour had already started.<br />
<br />
As the clock on the mantle struck twelve, Sarah lifted the newborn infant, holding him so his mother could see him. “My dear, you have a fine, healthy Christmas son.” She smiled at the young woman. “What are you going to name him?”<br />
<br />
The young woman smiled weakly, and whispered ‘His name is Joshua.” She paused for a breath, then added “Thank you so much for saving our lives. I had just about given up hope when I saw the candle in your window.”<br />
<br />
“We keep it there every night, especially in bad weather, so anyone who is benighted on the road can see it and know that there is warmth and shelter here. This is the first time we have assisted at a birth, and we are both so glad we could help you.” Samuel patted her on the shoulder. “Rest now, Sarah will tend the babe, and put him by your side. You both need rest.” He started to turn away, then stopped and said “oh, what is your name, my dear. We would like to know what to call you while you are here.”<br />
<br />
She smiled and said “My name is Mary, and his father is Joseph. He is in the army, and I was supposed to be with him. My car broke down, and I knew I couldn’t stay in it, with Joshua due at any moment. I prayed for help, and God led me to you. I will leave as soon as I can.” Her gaze wandered around the room, and rested on the Christmas tree in the corner. The tinsel glittered in the firelight, and a delighted smile crossed her face. “Oh, how beautiful!” Her voice was a mere whisper as her eyes closed and she dropped off to sleep.<br />
<br />
“You will stay here until you and Joshua are fit to travel, “Sarah said, “We will hear of nothing else.”<br />
<br />
“Right!” Samuel agreed. “Where did your car break down? I can see that it’s looked after, and when you are both fit to travel, it will be ready to go. And if you tell me how to get in touch with him, I’ll see that Joseph knows he is a father, and that you are both healthy and will soon be with him.”<br />
<br />
Mary gulped tears as she thanked them both. Sarah had finished dressing the baby and now laid him on his mother’s arm and covered them both. “Now it is time for both of you to sleep,” she said as she patted the blanket. “Rest well, you are safe now.” She turned off the lamp by the bed, and she and Samuel moved to the other end of the room. <br />
<br />
“It’s time for us to rest now, too,” she said to Samuel. “What a wonderful Christmas eve this has been. I am so glad we keep the candle in the window.” She sighed as she prepared for bed.<br />
<br />
“Yes, it has been truly a blessed Christmas eve.” Samuel agreed. “Mary found a safe, warm place to have her child, and Joseph will soon be rejoicing g wither. And did you notice the name? Joshua – the original Hebrew form of the Greek name Jesus. We’ve had a blessing this Christmas we will never forget.” Sarah smiled as she settled down in the bed. “Yes, we have been truly blessed. We will make sure Mary and Joshua are well able to make the journey before they leave. Thank God for this wonderful experience."Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-30320739587570337082014-12-03T09:01:00.000-08:002014-12-03T09:01:40.061-08:00"Family Photo" by Llola Lane"Family Photo" by Llola Lane<br />(Inspired by the From our Family greeting card)<br /><br />Papa checked the tripod to make sure it was steady. He wanted the family photo this year to be perfect. None of those "store bought" photo greeting cards from HIS family. He knew how to work a camera. Paying someone was just spending money foolishly. Looking through the camera he peered at his family. <br /><a name='more'></a><br />The children were restless. Junior was tugging at his new hat and Sister was messing with her bow. The only one who was cool, calm and collected was Mama. She looked her Sunday best in her new bright red Christmas hat. She had bought each of them a new hat and she smiled as she looked around at her family.<br /><br />The scenery was perfect. The freshly fallen snow made a wonderful blanket under the giant willow tree Papa had found earlier that day. He had scouted all around the village until he found what he thought was the perfect spot. The extra bits of brush and grass added a touch of color against the bright white snow and grayness of the willow. The background coordinated wonderfully with their snowy white bodies. The bright colored hats Mama bought popped a bit of color in an otherwise monochromatic scene. <br /><br />"Now smile big for the camera," Papa ordered. "The timer will start beeping faster just before the shutter opens. I will take a few just to make sure we get a good photo. Junior... I will stand between you and Mama. Make room for me please."<br /><br />"Yes Papa," Junior muttered under his breath. He was missing his friends and wanted to go play. Sister kept bumping him with her new hat. "Stop fidgeting Sister... you're making dents in my chest!" He growled at her.<br /><br />"You're standing too close. Give me more room then," she ordered to her brother. <br /><br />Mama was getting tired of their arguing and chimed in... "If you both stand still this will go MUCH faster and Papa will let us ALL go home." She smiled at her husband. She knew he was working as fast as he could. <br /><br />"The camera is already... Ok... Family... now... SMIIIIIIILE!!!" He pressed the button and quickly took his place between Mama and Junior. "Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep” and the lens opened just as a big drift of snow fell on the family from the tree.<br /><br />They were all covered with snow. Their new brightly colored hats were now all white. Everyone shook the snow off as best they could and had a big laugh. They looked at each other and couldn't help but laugh. Papa laughed the loudest when he went to check the camera and saw the photo it had taken. He showed the family and they all roared louder with laughter.<br /><br />"OK family... let's try this again... Now that we are all dusted off and clean," said Papa sternly. This was taking way longer than he thought it would. Maybe having a store photo would have been quicker? "Nawwww..." he said to his self..."I'm going to get a great family photo, if it takes me all night!" And with that he set the camera up to take another photograph and quickly stood in his spot.<br /><br />"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" ... check the picture... Junior was moving... "Grrrrrrrr"... "Ok... Family... need to take another. Junior... STOP MOVING. Stand still everyone." Reset the camera... run to his spot... <br /><br />"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" ... whooooooooooooooooooooshhhhhh... The wind blows everyone’s hat off. They are scurrying to grab them in the photograph. Reset the camera... run to his spot... Perspiration is running down his forehead. <br /><br />"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" "Darn... grrrrrrrr"... Reset the camera... run to his spot... <br /><br />"Beeep... beeep... beeeeeeeeeeep" ... An hour later Papa FINALLY had a good photo for the family greeting cards. He had taken over 25 photos and now he had his prized family photo. <br /><br />As they made their way back home Papa showed everyone the photos he had taken on the camera. They were so funny the family couldn't stop laughing. "We had better quit laughing before we melt," said Sister. But that just made everyone laugh all the harder. "This was a fun day Papa," said Junior, and Mama kissed his forehead. It was nice to have the family together, and forever how long it lasted she now had photos to remember them all by. <br /><br />They talked about the saying for the greeting card and everyone agreed to... "FROM OUR FAMILY TO YOURS... HAPPY HOLIDAYS!"<br /><br />Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-41556152976621533382014-12-02T17:22:00.001-08:002014-12-02T17:22:09.664-08:00"The Totem Tree" by Lillian Morpork"The Totem Tree" by Lillian Morpork<br />Pictures: both bridges- also the trees at the end of the gallery<br /><br />Lucy Brightstar walked for miles through the snow, crossing bridges and fields, until at last she stood at the edge of a forest clearing, staring at the pine tree. She had seen it in the summer, and noticed how it seemed to have faces, one above the other amazingly like a totem pole. Now, covered in snow, the faces stood out clearly. First, from the bottom up, were three old man faces, shaggy beards and mustaches, mouths not quite smiling. The middle one’s eyes seemed to twinkle, and they all looked like someone’s favourite grandfather, the one you would be willing tell all of your secrets, and know they would be safe.<br /><a name='more'></a><br />Above them was an angel, wings spread and drooping slightly, a scarf or something like it wrapped around the head and tied under the chin, hands folded in prayer and above that, at the top of the tree, another older seeming angel, with a slightly triangular face topped by a headdress like a tall hat. This one had double wings, uplifted, on each side; ‘Hmm – cherubim and seraphim?’ Lucy murmured, as she slowly approached.<br /><br />‘I do hope I am correct and this is a naturally formed Totem Tree. If it is, then making an offering and praying here should bring an answer to her problem. She settled down cross- legged on the ground and opened her backpack. She carefully lifted out two pine cones, several feathers and a bottle of sugar water. This she sprinkled at the roots of the tree, and settled back in contemplation.<br /><br />“Grandfather Tree, I am in need of your wisdom. My father wishes me to marry in the spring, and has chosen two young men. They are David Running Deer and Tom Red Fox. He believes they are honest men and great hunters, but I know they are not. They were partly responsible for my brother’s death. They were all our hunting, and I had quietly followed them. They were chasing a big stag and my brother John Grey Wolf was ahead of them. The stag turned at bay, and both of them shot. The stag bellowed, and charged, goring John in the abdomen and the chest. David and Tom just stood there staring, then picked him up and carried him home.<br /><br />“I was eight years old, and I tried to tell father what had happened, but he believed their story. They said he had shot and ran forward thinking he’d given the stag a fatal wound, but it gored him and escaped.<br /><br />“Grandfather Tree, I have lived with this knowledge for ten years. I do not want to wed yet; I want to go to university and study ancient history and medicine. If John had had modern care, he might have lived, and I want to bring that kind of care to my people on the reservation. Please tell me, what should I do? I know I am supposed to obey my father, but to be tied for life to one who is a liar and helped to cause a death! I just can’t do it!”<br /><br />Lucy stopped talking and sat, head bent, tears running down her cheeks. All was silent except for the breeze sighing through the branches. The faces moved, nodding, and seemed to be talking. Gradually she became aware of the sound of soft footsteps behind her. She turned, and jumped to her feet; it was her father, with his dog. She waited for the scolding she was sure he would give her, his face was so stiff and serious.<br /><br />“Father…” she didn’t know what to say, and stopped, looking into his eyes and waiting.<br /><br />“Daughter” he said softly, “I have followed you over the bridges, and across the fields; your mother told me you had run away, rather than obey me and wed. Then she proceeded to bend my ear for half an hour about what a stubborn fool I am, that I would believe others but not my own child. Now I have heard your prayer to the Grandfather Totem Tree, and I realize how wrong and unfair I have been. I have acted most un-chiefly, and toward my own kin. Come home with me now, Lucy. Forgive me if you can. And if you really wish to go to university, I will see that you do. I have a saving account that I set up years ago to pay for your wedding. You may have that for your education instead. I don’t know if it will cover everything for all the years you will spend becoming a healer for the tribe, but I will do all I can to add to it as time goes by.” He held out one hand beseechingly.<br /><br />“Oh, father!” Lucy ran into his arms. “Oh, thank you, thank you! I love you, and it made me so sad to go against your wishes, but I just couldn’t accept David or Tom.” His arms closed around her and he buried his face on her hair. “Thank you, daughter, for your love and trust; I’m not sure I deserve it, but I accept it. Now” he stepped back and took her hand. “Let’s go home and make plans.” Lucy nodded, turned to pick up her backpack, and paused. “Thank you, Grandfather Tree; you have given me the perfect answer to my prayer.” She bowed her head, then turned, took her father’s hand and walked into her future with him.<br />Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-19103816097651202452014-11-26T20:00:00.000-08:002014-11-26T18:07:40.360-08:00Your Inspiration for November-December 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Choose any of the Greeting Cards shown for your inspiration </div>
Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-1021239303439263132014-11-26T12:10:00.001-08:002014-11-26T12:10:03.800-08:00"An Unusual Journey" by Lillian Morpork"An Unusual Journey" by Lillian Morpork<br /><br />Alex Martin sat in his usual place by the window. He liked sitting there, because he could see out and watch the people, animals, butterflies and birds going by. As he watched, he made up stories about where they were going, what magical things would happen to them, and how they would cope. Only today, he couldn’t see anything. Jack Frost had been busy during the night and had painted a truly magical scene on the window. <br /><a name='more'></a><br />The day was cloudy and very cold, so the magic picture stayed, intriguing Alex. He was in his special chair, propped up and supported by pillows and dressed in warm woolen garments. There wasn’t much wood or coal, so the fire was low and the room was chilly, and he had been bundled in warm blankets, too. A bed table on his right held an easel with a canvas, a wide array of oil paints and brushes, and all the rest of the requirements of an artist. There was also a notebook and pen to write out the story idea before painting. He usually painted pictures of the people and animals he saw, putting them into his stories. Today the paint tubes were closed and the canvas was empty.<br /><br />At first, he had been feeling depressed because he couldn’t see anything and had no inspiration for painting or storytelling. He sighed, and looked at the window again, and his gaze was caught. Suddenly he saw slender willow trees with trailing boughs, frosty white flowers and crystal butterflies. He stared for some time, and then reached for his pen and notebook.<br /><br />‘One very cold day a fairy princess went out to look at the garden. She was dressed in caterpillar furs, with warm mitts and hat of dandelion and thistle down, so she thought she would be safe from the monster Jack Frost.’…. he paused for a while, looking at the window again. <br /><br />As he stared at the window, it seemed to grow and take on some colour. Soon the trees were swaying gently in the light breeze, and he could smell the slightly minty odor of the flower. The leaves o the trees tinkled as they moved, and so did the butterflies and the flowers. |Each had a different sound, so it almost sounded like harp music, coming from far away. Alex looked around, and found that he was standing in the middle of the field of flowers, surrounded by the willow trees, the butterflies flitting here and there. As their wings moved they shed prismatic lights on everything. <br /><br />Alex was transfixed. He was standing? How could that be? His legs were withered and useless since the accident. He hadn’t been able to use them for ten years. He looked around again, and saw a lovely young lady coming toward him, dressed in furs. She was so graceful he just stared. As she came near she smiled; “Hello, Alex,” she said. “It is so good to see you here at last. I have watched you many times, looking out the window, and wished you would come to walk and talk with me.”<br /><br />“You have seen me?” Alex asked, bewildered. “I have never seen you, where were you? I cannot walk; I do not know how I can be on my feet now. My spine was damaged in an accident when I was five years old that is why I sit at the window. I watch the people and animals, and I make up stories about them, and paint pictures to go with the stories. This must be a dream; I can only walk in dreams.”<br /><br />They walked on, her hand lightly clasped in his, while the trees butterflies flowers and birds chimed and the colours from the butterfly wings flashed and danced around them. It was all so beautiful, so strange, that Alex could only drink it in and enjoy it, pushing away all questions.<br /><br />“My name is Crystal,” the fairy told him. “I live in the flowers in your garden, though in your world I am invisible. Your body is in a state of waking sleep in your world, it is awake, but your spirit has flown to my world. You have traveled through space and time and have created a whole body for yourself here. If you do not return to your body it will die, and you will live on here. I would be happy to have your company forever, but I know there are those who love you in your world who would be heartbroken to lose you.”<br /><br />Alex walked in silence for some time, pondering. It felt so good to walk, to not be tied down to that chair. But how could he leave them? His Mother and Father, brother and sisters were all so good to him. They made it so much easier for him to accept his condition because they encouraged him to do the things he could. He didn’t really spend all day every day sitting at the window. He went to school, went shopping with his Mother, to the park with his brothers and sisters. They went on holidays and saw many other places and interesting and exciting things. Though he had never seen any place as beautiful, as astonishing, as this place. He stopped walking and just stood and looked around. Could he leave this magic place to go back to the mundane world? The smiling faces of his family passed by his mind’s eye, and he knew.<br /><br />“Crystal, I would love to stay here with you in this awesome, magical place. But it is not where I belong. My life is waiting for me back in my duller, mundane world. I will carry some of the magic of you and your world with me always, and I know it will come out in my stories and paintings. When I look at the garden, I will remember you. When, in the summer, I sit out there among the flowers, I will know you are near. I will feel your kiss in the breeze, and my heart will be lighter.” He turned to her, taking both her hands in his. “Stay near me, please. I will always love you.” <br /><br />Smiling, Crystal stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “I will, Alex. I will always be there in your garden. And when you are sitting out there, I will come near and sit with you, and whisper to you about the beauty that surrounds you. Now, my dear, they are getting anxious, and crying; you must return. Go with my undying love. You will always have fairyland in your heart.”<br /><br />Alex took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Mother was bending over him, tears running down her cheeks, stroking his forehead and whispering “Alex, my love, come back, please come back.” He smiled at her and touched her hand. “I am here, Mother. I just went away for a little while. I saw a magic land, and walked and talked with a fairy. It was so very beautiful, but it was not for me. My home is here with all of you. But it has given me an inspiration for many tales and pictures.”<br /><br />Mother gathered him in her arms and the family gathered ‘round, touching him and cheering, welcoming him home. “I want to hear all about it,” his little sister Mary said. “And I want to see the pictures you will paint.” The others agreed, and they did. Alex wrote many fairy tales and illustrated them himself, and became a famous author and artist. And every day when the weather allowed, he sat in his chair in the garden, and communed with Crystal.<br /><br />Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-79957054103645593372014-11-19T10:57:00.000-08:002014-11-19T18:27:38.587-08:00A Candle in the Window - by Sven PertelsonThere is a candle burning in my window for anyone to see as they walk past. What message they take from it depends on them.<br />
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To a Christian it may remind them of the light that came at Christmas or the guiding star that led the wise men. <br />
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To a Hindu a reminder of the recently passed festival of Diwali when lights and fireworks celebrated the victory of good over evil.<br />
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A Buddhist might recall that Buddha said, “ Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” <br />
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A passing Jew might fondly bring to mind his mother blessing and lighting the Shabbat candles on a Friday evening and with it the promise of an enjoyable family meal.<br />
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A Turkish Muslim might think of those five special nights of the Muslim calendar when candles are lit in the minarets of the mosques to signify special celebrations.<br />
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The pagan walking past might think I am casting a spell or celebrating Samhain.<br />
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The atheist wandering along my street will just see a candle and wonder if I have had a power cut. <br />
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For each the candle will have a meaning or a significance, let them take from it what they will.Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-12709422945292055252014-11-19T08:37:00.000-08:002014-11-19T08:38:01.691-08:00"A Time Travel Tale" by Lillian Morpork"A Time Travel Tale" by Lillian Morpork<br />
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I was just arriving home from work, admiring the Christmas decorations on the house when I thought I heard a voice cry out in the back yard. I walked around the house and waded through the snow, heading for the back fence, and looking around for any disturbance or even a body in the snow, but there was only smooth, unbroken snow. When I was almost at the gate I noticed that it was open, and the snow was disturbed and a patch of red startled my eyes. It looked as though someone had fallen and gashed their head on something, but there was no body, and the snow all around was undisturbed. It looked as though the body had fallen in the snow, and disappeared into thin air. <br />
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Just as I stepped forward to reach the gate to close it, my foot caught against something and I fell, hitting my head on the metal latch. I was dazed for a short while then struggled to my feet, expecting to close the gate and go back to the house. I was bleeding from a cut just above my left eye, and wanted to get inside, get warm, and tend my wound. But when I looked around, I saw nothing, just untouched snow for a long distance. Far away I saw smoke rising from within a stand of trees. If I was to get help, I would have to make my way there. I felt dazed and confused. Where was I? What had happened to my home? Then I remembered the disturbed snow and blood at the gate; had that been caused by my fall? But how could it be there before I fell? More confused than ever, wondering where and possibly when I was, I sighed and started wading through the snow.<br />
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It seemed like hours before I was close enough to see where the smoke came from. There was a small log cabin sheltering in the middle of the copse. Light flickered from a window, and I saw a shadow cross between the light and the window. ‘I hope whoever lives here will help me,’ I thought, ‘and will be able to tell me where I am. How could I have moved from our back yard? Perhaps I did go back in time. There was a time when it was all empty land there.’ I made my way slowly to the door, shivering and weary, my head aching from the cold, and raised my hand to knock.<br />
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The door was opened by a tall, slender man who seemed to be about my age. “Helen!” he exclaimed, “Where have you been? You disappeared a year ago when you insisted on walking to Pincher Creek to see if there was any mail from your Mother. We searched and searched, all the way, even going a couple of miles to each side of the track. But your trial led us about half way there, and stopped. It was as though you had melted into thin air. Come in, come in. What happened, how did you hurt your head? And where did you get those outlandish clothes?”<br />
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He led me in and settled me close to the fireplace, then went to a cupboard and brought out ointment and a bandage to bind up the cut. I was feeling even more confused. My name is not Helen, though that was my great grandmother’s name. He gave me plate of stew and a piece of bread, and settled down across from me. “Please, dear, tell me where you have been. I have missed you so much, and worried about you; where you were if you were alive well. Please, my love, talk!”<br />
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I ate some stew and bread while I gathered my thoughts. I remembered the story of Grandma Helen’s disappearance, and how only a few years ago archaeologists had found an old Native settlement, abandoned for many years. In the digging, they found the remains of a young white woman, and checked the DNA. Ours was on record, since almost all of the children for a couple of generations had been in the armed forces or some police force. The body was Grandma Helen, and her death was caused by a blow to the head. How was I to tell this man, my great grandfather? He would think me crazed by exposure. I had always known that I had an uncanny resemblance to Grandma Helen. I started talking.<br />
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For some time after I finished, he sat in silence, looking at me and obviously thinking about all I had said. I was surprised that he took the idea of time travel so calmly, but as I looked around the room, I noticed books on a shelf. I got up and walked over, and there was H. G. Wells’ book The Time Machine. He had followed me, and touched the book, “yes, I have read it, and speculated over the possibility. You must be Sarah Elizabeth. I remember when you were a toddler, how much you looked like my lost Helen. I think we should just rest for tonight. Tomorrow, we will follow your trail and see where you arrived in this time. I think it has to be the small settlement of the Assiniboine, south east of here. We wondered about it, as there were faint traces of their footsteps near where Helen obviously had fallen, but they were so faint we never went to them.”<br />
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We sat and talked for a couple of hours. He was fascinated by my tales of life in my time. He had read several Science Fiction books, Jules Verne and others, and was willing to accept the idea of people going round the world in a matter of hours, from Canada to Japan, or Europe. Automobiles intrigued him; the idea of getting into a ‘carriage’ and going at incredible speeds for hundreds of miles just to see a show, or an art display, and then driving back seemed to him something to envy.<br />
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The next day, after we had eaten a hearty breakfast, we bundled up and went out. The weather was clear, cold and calm, and my trail was sharply outlined in the snow. We set out, and to my surprise, we found my starting place in less than an hour. I guess I was just too dazed and in shock to be able to judge how long I’d been trudging through the snow. Once we were there, he looked all around at the open, snow covered expanse, and said “no wonder you were so bewildered and confused. To come to this from a street full of houses would be a shock to anyone, even without a head injury.”<br />
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He looked down at me, took my hands, and pulled me into his arms. “Thank you for telling me your story. I am pleased to have met you as an adult, and am proud of the brave, sensible intelligent young woman you have become. And thanks for leading me to where my Helen went. Now I know that, though she was badly injured, she didn’t’ die in the cold alone. The Assiniboine would have given her the best care they could, and from what you said, they gave her an honourable burial. I can now rest easy until my life’s end, and I will be with her then.’<br />
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He kissed my forehead, and stepped back. “Now, Sarah, take a step forward. You should find yourself back at your gate, in your own time and place. Bless you, dear, and remember me. I stepped to him and hugged him. “Thanks, grandfather. I’m glad a I met you as an adult, I had just a very vague memory, now I have a clear picture in mind when I think of you. And I will, often.” I stepped back, turned, and glancing over my shoulder, raised a hand and stepped forward, and tripped. As he had said, I was lying in the snow at the gate, my head bleeding, feeling dizzy and confused. But then I remembered Grandfather, that handsome, kind young man, and my mind cleared.<br />
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It is a memory I will always cherish, though it was a frightening experience. What if I had landed in the Assiniboine village? How would superstitious natives have reacted to a strange white woman in strange clothing appearing suddenly, apparently out of nowhere? I often think of it, and still feel confused. How had it happened? It is a question that I don’t think I will ever be able to answer, but will always keep asking.Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-37509587140498478332014-10-31T11:53:00.000-07:002014-12-02T08:25:04.066-08:00Your Inspiration for October 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Pointing by Walt Ireton</div>
Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-1216855664373772082014-10-31T09:04:00.000-07:002014-12-02T08:26:05.814-08:00 Hallowe’en Fun - by Lillian MorporkTwo young ladies were out for some fun,<br />
The sun was setting, the day’s work done,<br />
So first they set out for a refreshing run.<br />
It was Hallowe’en.<br />
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With their moon white hair and somber black clothes,<br />
They were hard to see, as everyone knows,<br />
So they added some stripes in tape that glows,<br />
To be sure they’d be seen.<br />
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They ran down streets where scarecrows grew<br />
On every lawn though there were a few,<br />
That had sprouted gravestones, old but new.<br />
‘Twas an eerie scene.<br />
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As they jogged along they heard on the air<br />
Songs so spooky it gave them a scare,<br />
They ran faster to get out of there.<br />
To a place more serene.<br />
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The streets became busy with many odd creatures,<br />
Some with really surprising features.<br />
They climbed up some stairs to use them as bleachers,<br />
And looked for a theme.<br />
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Ghosts, Goblins and witches, vampires galore<br />
Running and laughing, going door to door,<br />
Buzz Lightyears, Darth Vaders, Princesses and more<br />
But no sign of a Queen.<br />
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They finally moved home to a party there.<br />
With their somber black clothes and moon white hair<br />
And some added makeup they made a great pair<br />
Of vampires so keen.<br />
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The party was over; the place was a mess,<br />
But all they could do was wash and undress,<br />
They’d clean up in the morning, no need to obsess,<br />
It was Hallowe’en.Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-77172324043828881852014-10-22T11:52:00.000-07:002014-10-22T12:30:57.889-07:00The Vibrant Vampires – part 4 – Lillian MorporkThe Vibrant Vampires – part 4 – Lillian Morpork<br />
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“Well, guys, lets load up the van and go!” Vanessa called to the laughing, playacting group of vampires. They were all in costume, and trying to act as scary as they could, though that was hard, since they were all laughing too much. Still laughing and giggling, they all gathered up jackets, music and instruments and loaded them into the van, while Vanessa watched and checked everything off on a list. She said she didn’t want to get to the Atlantis Pavillions and find they had left something essential behind.<br />
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Arriving a half hour early, they found their spot and as they unloaded the van, got things set up By eight o’clock they were ready, and Mrs. Palmer told them to start playing. They started with Vera on the keyboard playing Bach’s Fugue in D minor. She segued into It’s Hallowe’en, and the group sang along. <br />
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People were arriving and settling around tables, all in costumes. There were every super hero anyone had ever heard of, plus Frankestiens, Beasts, Buzz Lightyears, even a few Brides of Frankenstein. There was the sound of greetings, introductions and so on, but muted, as many were listening to the music. The Vibrant Vampires were elated at the reception, and did their best. By eight thirty, the other band was set up and ready to go and the dancing started. <br />
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There were occasional breaks while the band had a short rest, and something to drink, so the Vampires were able to fill in with a song or two, or Vera doing a reprise of the Bach Fugue. The rest of the time, they enjoyed themselves, dancing or just watching, and commenting on some of the more unusual costumes. There was one very tall person dressed as a decorated Christmas tree, strung with led lights that flashed on and off. Another was a ‘little green man’ alien climbing out of his spacecraft and there was a cannibal, complete with spear, large cauldron containing a skeleton, and a cookbook labled ‘Courtesy of the Toronto Crematorium’.<br />
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Veronica giggled over that one, wondering if there was a recipe for bone soup in the book. During one of the band’s breaks, they played Monster Mash, and it was great hit, one of the guests calling out “that was incredible, you sounded just like Bobby Pickett!” Benji grinned and called “thank you!” as he sat back down.<br />
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And so the evening went, with the guests showing their enjoyment of the Vibrant Vampires’ spooky and funny songs. By 11:30 they were quite ready to sit and eat the delicious supper provided, as they watched the grand parade. They all cheered when their three favourite costumes won first prize in different categories. <br />
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They all worked hard for the guests’ supper break, and got a standing ovation when they played the last song, Do You Believe in Monsters. When it was over, they set about packing instruments and music, and the boys carried it out to the van, while Vanessa went to Mrs. Palmer for their pay. She rejoined the group at the van, with a wide grin. “Mrs. Palmer gave us a twenty percent bonus!” she exclaimed. “She said we were much better than anyone had expected, and the committee decided we had earned it.” Everyone cheered, though it was a weak cheer, they were all so tired.<br />
<br />
“I will be very happy to go home,” Dennis sighed. “I have never worked so hard at a gig before. Bu t it has been a lot of fun. Thanks for letting me join you.”<br />
<br />
“You’ve been a good addition to the group, Dennis, and we are glad to have you. I think we should keep together as a band. Back in the 70s or so, there was a group called the BGs, I think. We could be the VBs, or the GBs, the girls and boys, or someone might think up a better name.” Valarie said as she slid into the driver’s seat. There was unanimous agreement to the idea, but the sentiment was ‘let’s think about it later.’ Yawning, they all piled in, and Valarie drove away. “I’ll drop you guys off at you homes, you can pick up your instruments tomorrow.” The boys nodded, and said goodnight and thanks as they were dropped off.<br />
<br />Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-68178247148724345182014-10-15T12:06:00.000-07:002014-10-15T12:16:55.016-07:00Vibrant Vampires – part 3 – Lillian MorporkIt was two weeks later, and nearly everyone had gathered for rehearsal. Blaize had called to say he’d be a little late, and was bringing a couple of guys to balance out the numbers. There was a cacophony of sound as some ran through this piece or that; some did voice exercises and other chatted. There was an almost unheard rap on the door, it swung open, and Blaize appeared with two other young men, matching in general appearance the Busy Bees.<br />
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“Hi, people!” Blaize called out, “meet Dennis and Darcy, brothers who are really good singers and they play several instruments. With them, we have an equal male female balance, and no matter how noisy the party is, we will still be heard!” He laughed and moved on in, followed by the two newcomers. Soon they were all set and rehearsal began.<br />
<br />
“Let’s try It’s Hallowe’en,” Vanessa said. They played a short introduction and then they all sang. (me singing a bit) with Vanessa singing solo on the sister Jane part. When they finished they all broke up laughing, and complimenting each other on how well it had gone. <br />
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“Now” Barry said, “if we can get the rest down as well as that one, we will wow them at the party. We may even earn a bonus!” They all agreed, and the rehearsal went on.<br />
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Three hours passed and they stopped for the night. “I am really happy with our progress,” Valarie said. “With two weeks still to go, we should have all of the pieces as nearly perfect as man or woman can get.”<br />
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Can we run through Ring Around a Rosy one more. Please? I’d like to sing it just once more. I’m not completely satisfied, and maybe once more will do it.” Velma said<br />
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The others willingly settled down and they went through it again. (me singing) <br />
“Ring around the rosie, <br />
Pocket full of posie,<br />
“Ashes, Ashes,<br />
We all fall down.” <br />
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“Velma, there is no way you can improve on that!” Dennis exclaimed. “I have never heard it done creepier. But what in the heck is it about?”<br />
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In the 13th century, the Black Death (also called the Black Plague) killed so many people, many thought it was the end of the world. The nursery rhyme "Ring around the Rosie" came about during the time of the Black Death. <br />
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Here are what the lyrics mean: <br />
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Ring around the rosie is a reference to the black sores that would appear on your body as part of the plague. Your "rosie" is around the center of the back of your hand. <br />
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A pocket full of posies is a reference to people would carrying posies (flowers) around to not smell the sickening scent of dead bodies everywhere. <br />
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Ashes Ashes signifies the ashes from all the bodies being burned on pyres. Bodies couldn't be buried or else the infection would spread. <br />
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We all fall down signifies death or people falling down to hell because of their harsh and cruel ways.<br />
<br />
“The second comes from Snopes – ‘The earliest print version was in Kate Greeaway’s “Mother Goose or The Old Nursery Rhymes” of 1881. Since folklorists had been collecting and putting into print bits and pieces of oral tradition such as Nursery Rhymes and Fairy Tales for hundreds of years, some version of Ring around the Rosie should have been in print before 1881. But in a span of five hundred years, no one had done so. If it had been from the 1347 plague it would be older than Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and there we would have examples in Middle English and Modern English forms.’ <br />
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“But the Plague explanation is much more in keeping with Hallowe’en, so I vote for it!” Benji laughed, holding his hand up.<br />
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There was agreement all around as they gathered instruments, jackets and such, and headed out into the chilly night. Vanessa turned off the lights and locked the door. “That was a great rehearsal!” she said to Valarie, who agreed. “The addition of the seven guys really makes us sound great.” They turned to follow the others to the sidewalk, and wave them goodnight. <br />
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“Maybe we can stay together as a band after the gig. It does sound good, and it’s more fun having guys around.” Valarie giggled. “Lots more fun” <br />
<br />
Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-88760816145413679992014-10-08T12:16:00.000-07:002014-10-08T12:16:01.377-07:00Vibrant Vampires – part 2 – Lillian MorporkVera was playing Bach’s Fugue in D Minor as she and the others waited for Valarie to return from an emergency meeting with Mrs. Palmer, the organizer of the Hallowe’en gig. The others were talking and giggling as they tried to sing at a masculine pitch. The door opened, and Valarie stepped in. There were figures behind her, but it was dark outside, and they were too dim to see.<br />
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HI, Vees!” Valarie said. “Everything is ok, the gig is still on, but the Busy Bees can’t make it. Brandon and Bruce were in a crash last night and are in hospital. They will be ok, but they have some broken bones and will be out of commission for a couple of months. The rest of the BBs do need the money, so I suggested that they join us. They will give the male voices and add to the sound with their instruments.” She turned, holding the door open, “come on in, guys!” <br />
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Five young men, contemporary in age with the girls, stepped in, smiling and looking anxious; they were as dark as the girls were fair, and dressed in Tee-shirts, yellow with brown stripes.. They were carrying cases, guitars, violin, base fiddle and others. “Hi,” Barny said. “Is it ok? We really do need the gig, and being vampires will be great. Benji and Blaize do excellent work on Monster Mash and Dragula, they sound remarkably like Bobby Pickett and Rod Zombie. We want to change our name the Busy Bees is just too wimpy!”<br />
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Velma giggled. “Yeah,” she said. “It always makes me think of Kindergarten kids.”<br />
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“Hi, guys. Come on in and make yourselves comfortable. If we can meet and rehearse every night from now to the 29th, we should be ok. No, we will be great!” Vanessa waved her hand at the seats, and everyone settled down to tuning instruments. <br />
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“Another thing – Mrs. Palmer said the new group want to play from eight thirty to eleven thirty. Vera will play the Bach Fugue, and we can play something else spooky while everyone arrives. Then there’s the dancing. At eleven thirty there will be the grand march, the unmasking and price awarding while we eat, and we entertain for an hour while they eat. <br />
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Dancing will go on until whenever. It’s supposed to be over by one, but she says she thinks it will be more like two. Anyway, we’ll be paid after the supper, and we can leave then. So we need more than the five we have picked. Any suggestions?”<br />
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“What have you picked, besides Monster Mash and Dragula?” asked Benji.<br />
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Somebody’s Watching Me, Nightmare on My Street and It’s too Spooky For Me.” Vivian said. <br />
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“Well, for a female voice, what about Come Little Children?” Brice asked.<br />
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“Great!” Vanessa exclaimed. “Vicky does the perfect voice for that one. Everyone agreed. <br />
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Brandon said “We could all do It’s Hallowe’en, Van could be sister Jane.” Ideas were coming thick and fast, and soon the list was complete. <br />
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“So,” Vanessa said, “it will be the five we picked plus Come Little Children, It’s Hallowe’en, Do You Believe in Monsters, and Ring Around a Rosy, and Velma will do Ring around. There was unanimous, enthusiastic agreement, and they settled down to work. <br />
<br />Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-61249809780814780122014-10-08T07:48:00.000-07:002014-10-08T07:48:59.292-07:00Dark Shadows The Umbrella Killer...All Directions by Destiny Anwyl MowadengA voice from what felt like inside a dream said Its A Girl and i opened my eyes. I glanced around the room and saw a doctor standing at the end of my bed but was shocked by what I saw standing next to him. It was me...but...How was that even possible ? I looked to the side of the bed and Caleb was holding my hand with one hand and had his face buried with the other. I tried my hardest too squeezes my sons hand but he just sat there as if not to feel me. I remember being home on my beloved island of Mowadeng the night of the storm and it being one night of the year our underworld opened up but then things got a little foggy.<br />
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Suddenly the vision of myself from the bottom of the bed begun to speak so I listened closely too see if anything would help me figure out where I was or even who i was. Doctor the voice said softly none of this makes sense to me. Stay calm the doctor said softly we will get it sorted out. I tried to sit up too see if anyone would notice my motions but nothing happened. What was going on I had no memory of how I got here or why nobody could see me nor why I was sitting at the bottom of the bed and in it at the same time. A Social Worker knocked and came in. Miss Mowadeng she said and me outside my body replied Yes. <br />
The conversation continued for several minutes before ending but by the time it had things were beginning too make sense. <br />
<br />
I learned from what I heard that I as I recalled was attacked by a man on my beloved Island causing me to travel to a land beyond this world to another place where my daughter Lilian was living. I later ended up in the hospital in a coma for many months and split into two different people leading my daughter to find out the story that she was to young at the time to remember happening to us and lucky for her she had little or no effects from it until now. The little girl I had split into was indeed a very real being but with a troubled past that my daughter grew very fond of and wished too keep in her life. The social worker had come to report that they had found the child wandering but where was Lilian ? I told the Social Worker that Caleb would go to make a phone call to her so she would come shortly and the social worker agreed to return.<br />
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The hours seem too pass quickly though still nobody realized that I was with present with them. The time was no 3 P.M. and Lilian arrived with an excited look on her face. I was pleased to see this and it made me very happy. Mom she said in a quiet voice and looked at me...I looked back...We get to keep her and take her home. I smiles and hugged my daughter whispering Its great hunny. A few moments passed and the Social Worker returned with the other half of me and I ran into the room straight for my daughters arms and uttered with tears in my eyes Mama. I drifted back into a deep sleep as if to vanish from there lives forever wondering what my daughter would learn about my life next.Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-68297314970245871092014-10-01T11:51:00.000-07:002014-10-01T11:51:48.897-07:00The Vibrant Vampires – part1 – Lillian MorporkThe Vibrant Vampires – part1 – Lillian Morpork<br />
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Vanessa and Valarie Von Bleut walked into the revamped shed where their group rehearsed, bubbling with excitement. “We have a gig!” Vanessa shouted, grinning, with Valerie echoing the grin behind her. The other ‘Vees’, Velma, Vera, Veronica, Victoria and Vivian, all jumped up, shouting and doing a silly happy dance. They were all cousins, the Von Bleut sisters were identical twins; Velma and Vera were sisters, as were Vivian and Victoria. Their fathers were brothers and had married sisters, so the family resemblance was strong.<br />
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“Where – When – Who?” the questions poured out as the other girls began to settle down, turning to look at Vanessa. “We’ve been hired by the Saturday Night Club to entertain at a Hallowe’en party on Wednesday the 29th. We will be strictly entertainment; the Busy Bees are going to play for the dancing and the grand march for costume judging. We need to start practising right away!” <br />
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“I have a list of pieces that I think suit the theme of the evening.” Valarie said. “We start with the Monster Mash, making it spooky rather than funny, then Somebody’s Watching Me. After that, Nightmare on My Street, followed by Dragula, and for the last one, It’s Too Spooky For Me. The party starts at 8 pm and goes until 1 am, with dancing starting at 8. We do our thing between dances, and will have about ten minutes per song. The last dance will be after It’s too spooky.”<br />
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“What are we going to wear, and what will we call ourselves?” Victoria wanted to know. ‘The Seven Vees’ just doesn’t have the right zing.”<br />
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“I have an idea,” Velma said. “Why don’t we go as Goth Vampires? We are all different shades of blonde, with fairly pale skin. If it’s a costume party, we’d fit right in.”<br />
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Veronica grinned, and said “if we do that, we could be ‘The Vibrant Vampires!’” She giggled and the others all gasped and enthusiastically agreed.<br />
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“Wow, that’s perfect!” Victoria laughed. “Lots of black, but...” she paused, “what about our lips? Goth girls use black lipstick, vampires have very red mouths – how do we do ours?”<br />
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Vivian frowned a bit then said thoughtfully “We could use both, mix black in with the red and make it a really dark red. I think that would work.”<br />
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The others looked at each other and then grinned and nodded. “Perfect,” Veronica laughed. We can break off some of each colour, mash them and mix them. We’d have to apply it with our fingers, and keep some with us for touch up.”<br />
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“We could use a bit of olive oil to make the mix more liquid and use a brush. And put it in a sealable, air tight bottle. That way we wouldn’t have to try to apply it in a hurry and then have to clean our fingers. We don’t want to get it all over our instruments.”<br />
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Everyone agreed, and Vera said “If we are to be ready by the 29th, we had better start work. I know Monster Mash, played for laughs, but how to make it spookier will need work, and I don’t know any of the others. I’ve heard them of course, but haven’t played them.” She turned to her keyboard and played the first few bars of Bach’s Fugue in D Minor. <br />
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Laughing, the others settled down with their instruments as Vanessa stood at the microphone, taking a breath as she thought of how to make Monster Mash spooky. Then she remembered Bobby Picket's version. Giggling, she said “hit it, girls!” and took on a serious, slightly frightened expression.<br />
Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-74718546678410510632014-10-01T10:16:00.000-07:002014-10-01T10:17:07.865-07:00"Average" by Llola Lane"Average" by Llola Lane<br />
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Sarah is average. She can't complain... Average is ok... Right??? She is of average build, of average height. Her features are average... Average nose.... Average mouth with lips painted crimson red... Her eyes are dark... Nothing really stands out on her exept for the clothes she wears. She always wears the best. Sometimes she had on pants... sometimes a dress... sometimes even, on special occasions, she wears a gown.<br />
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She is lucky. She has everything she needs, someone to do her makeup, another to dress her in pretty clothes, even a hair dresser. She has people all around her fixing and fussing over her til she is just right. Her hair changes often but she likes her white hair with bangs the best. It hides her eyes so people can not see her cry. She should be happy... right??? But she isn't. She knows she should be greatful for her life but she is sad. <br />
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People walk by her and stare. She can hear them whisper. What are they saying? They point at her and laugh. Does she have spinach in her teeth? You're not supposed to point at people. It's rude and very impolite. Someone told her that once. Who was it? No matter... all Sarah knows is that it hurts when they laugh. It makes her sad to know she isn't pretty in their eyes. Why does she care what those people think? <br />
<br />
So here she stands. Right back where they can see her, and laugh at, her again. It will be a long day. There will be many people looking at her. She should close her eyes so she can't see them. But her eyes won't close. <br />
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Her opened eyes see someone watching her from behind. It's HIM again. WHY did they put her next to him? He never says a word to her... just stares through her, like she's not even there. He's average also. Average build... Average height. Sort of handsome. Plain features just like her. Today he too wears a white wig with bangs. Is he sad too?<br />
<br />
She should say something to him but her mouth is froze shut. So she stands. Next to him. And they stare out at the people passing by. Alone in the store window. Afraid to move. Afraid to speak. Afraid of even, each other. <br />
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Llola Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04020791202034455422noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-82078953609137109562014-10-01T09:28:00.000-07:002014-10-01T09:28:14.576-07:00Galatea - by Sven PertelsonHow could I have not been attracted to her? She stood out from every other girl in the lecture theatre. Most of my fellow students, male and female, looked as if we had just been dragged unwillingly from our sleep, which was true for me, while others looked as if they had not had any sleep at all. She looked as if she was ready to walk down a fashion show cat walk.<br />
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I glanced over at her, again. Not a hair out of place, lips lightly glistening and the faintest of smiles playing over them, eyes bright, clothes smart, without being out of place. Rather than scruffy jeans, favoured by every other student in the college, she was wearing a skirt. Nothing outrageous, it fell to mid calf length and made you want to see more of their tanned well shaped form. Black, shiny high heel pumps with a peep toe. Legs crossed, demurely, and the heel on her free foot slipped free of her shoe as she swung the shoe gently back and forth.<br />
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I struggled to pay attention to what the lecturer was droning on about. She was making notes with her manicured hand and the bright red nail varnish flashed as she wrote. No rings on her fingers, just a delicate gold chain bracelet on her wrist. What was this lecture supposed to be about? How soon would it end, so that I could try and talk to her?<br />
<br />
Coffee break time and I followed her into the student cafeteria. She sat down at a table with her coffee talking to two other girls, neither of whom I knew. Out of her hand bag she pulled a pack of cigarettes and lit one. I dived over to the cigarette machine and felt in my pockets for change. Enough for a packet of ten of the same brand she was smoking. I ripped off the cellophane packing and pulled out one of the white and brown cylinders. I had not smoked for years, since I had tried to look cool as a young teenager. I just hoped I would not cough too much. I casually, or as casually as I could pretend to, walked over to the table she was sitting at and asked if I could have a light.<br />
<br />
I wonder if Pygmalion ever wished his Galatea would stop talking and become a lifeless statue once more? If she spoke as cruelly and harshly as this vision of loveliness then I think he would have. She pointed over my shoulder and said, “Go buy your own matches from the counter you cheapskate. Don't think I've not seen you gawking at me during the lecture. You've got no chance sonny boy.”Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-67804741732213232162014-09-30T12:13:00.000-07:002014-10-08T11:53:45.891-07:00Your Inspiration for September 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6LrBUqb14v4/VBCigyLALlI/AAAAAAAAAtc/yoqQky4BGIE/s1600/september_001.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6LrBUqb14v4/VBCigyLALlI/AAAAAAAAAtc/yoqQky4BGIE/s1600/september_001.png" height="114" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tBfmGvZQmhs/VBCig4A4_3I/AAAAAAAAAtg/AY9jmIfd9lU/s1600/september_002.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tBfmGvZQmhs/VBCig4A4_3I/AAAAAAAAAtg/AY9jmIfd9lU/s1600/september_002.png" height="114" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Choose any of the twelve pictures at the Gallery reperesenting the four seasons.</div>Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4947102461431017068.post-68445617217408439122014-09-24T12:45:00.002-07:002014-09-24T12:45:58.627-07:00Sabbatical – part 3 - Winter – Lillian MorporkLaura sat watching the scenery going by, noticing the signs of autumn; fields of golden wheat, yellow canola blossoms and tall stalks of corn glowing in the sunshine. There were apple tree laden with reddening fruit, pears turning yellow, and along the fence lines, goldenrod and cornflowers, reminding her of the children’s story about why you always see them together.<br />
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She was so engrossed that when the conductor came by calling out “next stop Mirror Lake”, she was startled. The train was slowing, so she scrambled to gather her bags, and was ready when it stopped at the station. She had a friend in Mirror Lake and she was taking this opportunity to visit him. She hadn’t seen him in two years, and they had been friends since university days.<br />
<br />
Gordon Matthews taught physics at the University of Manska, and had been at a gathering of physicists and astronomers in Port Welborne then, and they had enjoyed what time he had free then. As she was about to step down, she heard her name called, and looked around. There he was on the platform, waving and shouting. She waved, called “Hi, Gord,” and stepped down. <br />
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Soon they had gathered her luggage and were on their way to his car, exchanging greetings and laughing. He had lifted her large roll-along suitcase and was surprised at its weight. “What have you got in here, goldbricks?” he asked, as he pretended the weight was almost too much for him. “No, something more precious – books!” she laughed. “Books for my courses that I hope will liven things up. Also four on the history of Jewish settlement here, written by a Rabbi Goldberg whom met him on the train, and when I got to Bain City, he gave me a tour of the Synagogue library. Sadly, he died of heart failure while I was there. He was a wonderful man.” She sighed. Soon she was settled in his apartment and they were eating dinner, and catching up.<br />
<br />
For the next several days they toured libraries and museums, went to an Oktoberfest celebration and spent two days sampling beer and food, and enjoying a break from academics. When that was over, they decided to use to use her last two days on the lake.<br />
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When they first got to the lake, it lived up to its name, reflecting the sky and clouds, the birds, and the trees surrounding it. But by the time they had boarded his sailboat, a breeze had risen, and there were waves to ripple the reflections. They spent two days sailing, or at anchor, just resting, fishing and talking. Gord had received and offer from the university at Port Welborne, and he had decided to make the move. <br />
<br />
“Oh, Gord, how wonderful! We will be at the same university, and be able to see each other all the time.” Laura was really excited at the thought. “Yes,” he said. “That was part of what decided me. Of course the higher salary had a little to do with it.” He grinned. “Oh, silly,” she pushed his shoulder, “and I thought it was all on my account!” They both laughed.<br />
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The holiday was over, her sabbatical close to ending, and Laura was on the train, on the last leg of her journey. She relaxed in her seat and watched the season change. I what seemed no time at all, the trees were barn and snow gave things a light coat of white.<br />
<br />
At last, she was home again shivering in the cold and getting her winter coat and boots form the locker. Once she was dressed for the weather, she took a cab to the garage to pick up her much improved car, and on the way out of the city. As she drove, she saw sheep nibbling at weeds sticking up out of the snow. “Lucky animals,” she thought, “with their ready-made woolly coats. Still, they will soon be locked in their cote, warm and safe for the winter; while I will be driving into town every day, to try to teach unwilling students history. Oh, well, it is my choice. And now I will have Gord around to make it more fun.”Sven Pertelson - Former King of OZLANDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05767643088418303651noreply@blogger.com0