Our BetterMost Community > Chez Tremblay
The ORIGINAL 1000+ Posts Club
MaineWriter:
Well this is sad news to wake up to on Christmas morning. Jeff, as one of my oldest and dearest Bettermost buddies, I will miss you very very much. I'll keep in touch, of course, but not having you posting here is going to leave a great big hole in Bettermost.
Meanwhile, back on the ranch, it is 39 degrees and the wind is howling. It was howling all night and did not contribute to a restful sleep. Oh well....maybe a few presents this morning will cheer me up.
L
Front-Ranger:
So, Jack was visiting last night, hunh? Sounds like time for a midwinter nap this pm! I'm thinking of heading off to bed right after I get the lamb in the oven. I have new books to browse through, and my daughter made me a lovely sleep pillow filled with hops berries!!
For breakfast this morning we made scones with chocolate chips and, at the suggestion of Artiste, chopped raw cranberries! They were excellent, especially with some delicious cherry jelly that my friend sent me. To my wonderful friend, thank you, dear!!
Hope you all are having a merry Christmas or a good day if you don't do Christmas. Thanks for stopping in here and staying in touch!!
Artiste:
Joeux Noel - Joyous Merry Gay Christmas to all !!!
And hugs galore !
Au revoir,
hugs!
karen1129:
(((((Jeff)))))
We will stay in touch.
injest:
--- Quote from: Meryl on December 24, 2008, 08:24:38 pm ---Meryl del Mar wakes before five, wind rocking the trailer, hissing in around the aluminum door and window frames. The shirts hanging on a nail shudder slightly in the draft. She gets up, shuffles to the gas burner, pours leftover coffee in a chipped enamel pan; the flame swathes it in blue. She turns on the tap and urinates in the sink (not so easy for a female), pulls on her shirt and jeans, her worn boots, stamping the heels against the floor to get them full on. She is suffused with a sense of pleasure because JeffWrangler was in her dream.
The stale coffee is boiling up but she catches it before it goes over the side, pours it into a stained cup and blows on the black liquid, lets a panel of the dream slide forward. If she does not force her attention on it, it might stoke the day, rewarm that old, cold time on the mountain when they owned the world and nothing seemed wrong. The wind strikes the trailer like a load of dirt coming off a dump truck, eases, dies, leaves a temporary silence.
There was some open space between what she knew and what she tried to believe; but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it.
:'(
--- End quote ---
if you have the power to do it then you have the power to NOT do it, Meryl.
Navigation
[0] Message Index
[#] Next page
[*] Previous page
Go to full version