Several years ago, my good friend Bruce told me that I was finally going to get to meet her mother. She was dropping by to pick up some crystals Bruce had bought for her. In case you’re wondering, I did ask Bruce if, by any chance, she had been named after a family member and she said “Yes. I have an aunt called Bruce.” Anyway – I digress. Bruce had already told me that her mum was a little ‘odd.’ She was, apparently, a psychic and had no ‘filters.’ She said whatever came into her mind and, if you didn’t like it… well, tough noogies. Being duly warned, I put Bruce’s mum out of my mind as we got on with our visit.
AND THEN, THE DOORBELL RANG.
Bruce’s mum walked in; her mouth fell open and her eyes grew large. Without even being introduced, she stared at me and said “Why aren’t you famous?”
Me, all flustered and confused; “I, I, I don’t know!”
Bruce’s mum, with a look of disappointment and a hint of disgust; “Well, you’re supposed to be.”
And that was the end of that. Bruce’s mum grabbed her crystals and left. To say that I was flabbergasted would be an understatement, but that wasn’t the weirdest thing about this confrontation. I felt embarrassed.
Embarrassed by the outburst of a crazy woman? NO. Embarrassed at myself? YES. I felt like I had been exposed. Exposed like Clark Kent would have been if the geeky glasses were ripped off and the cape waved in front of his face. “You are Superman! SUPERMAN, you idiot! What the hell are you doing, pretending to be a mild-mannered reporter?!”
You, with bated breath; “Go on! Go on! What happened next?”
NOTHING. Nothing happened. I stuffed this milestone revelation into the back of my memory, polished my geeky glasses and carried on pretending to be a mild-mannered reporter.
What happens when you keep acting a part you were never meant to play? Slowly, the threads start to unravel and you scramble to hold it all together. But it never works. In the end too many threads fray and you fall through the hole in the net you so carefully crafted.
For me, the net finally broke a year ago; almost to the day. It’s OK… it was never really MY net anyway.
Meanwhile, in an ancient box covered with spiders’ webs, there is a shiny suit and a cape that need to be dusted off.
Bruce’s mum would have been proud.
Reading other writers’ poems, I often find their creativity sparks something in me, as well. Here’s what I unearthed this morning!
Note: OK, so having seen my lovely, foofy, unreadable font on the page (we won’t do that again, will we?), here it is in good old readable font.
Trying on different lives to see what fit
I found my own skeleton buried deep
beneath a mound of costumes.
Crying, softly, as I remembered who I was;
And lifting my bones gently from their early grave,
I washed them clean and clothed them in myself.
Great choice of words to get the little grey cells in my brain working! 😀 Thanks, Colleen! ♥
Everybody in the REAL WORLD knows that the answer to ‘the meaning of life’ is NOT really ’42.’
One of the only comforting things about being known as a fruitloop is that I can TELL you this stupendous nugget of truth without any chance of my revelation backfiring on me.
You’ll read it, and chuckle, and mentally pat me on the head, saying “Aah! That’s alright. It’s just Wendy!” (Pat, pat, pat).
JUST AS THE DRAGONS KNEW YOU WOULD.
It’s rather freeing to be able to speak the truth, blatantly, when nobody’s really paying you any attention. That being said, I DO find it alarming that many of the lovely, precious people who read my scribblings are TOTALLY missing the point I’m attempting to share.
Simply put: LIFE = MAGIC = DRAGONS.
It couldn’t get any clearer.
Dragons existed many eons before the Universes did, and they will continue to exist long after the Universes have gone.
I gaze into the mirror, and there stands Jamnog Flax with THAT smirk on his lavender face saying “Sure we do! You just keep telling them that.”
Then he winks cheekily at me, and glitters away into thin air.
Or however thin air can be, seeing as it’s teeming with Dragons.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,”I sigh. “Send the jester to show them the way and they will all laugh and flock in the opposite direction.”
Jamnog’s grinning face reappears for a second; “Flockin’ idiots!” he winks.
Never a truer word spoken by a jester.
Seek not for meaning
In the vastness of the sky
Barren worlds of ice and fire,
For no magic thrives
Where the Dragons have not trod.
We couldn’t believe it, but here we are last year around the same time as we are this year! Our one year anniversary of when we first met.
And here we are this year sporting our fairy calcite pendants from the Heart Stone Chronicles: The Swamp Fairy
We have many fun plans ahead and are working on co-authoring a photography/poetry book together.
Stop by and say hello!
~Wendy and Colleen~
When I see beauty,
Just the sight
Makes my stomach ache
Like a twisting knife.
Tears spring to my eyes
And my heart races,
Trying to save the vision
For sadder days.
If I love you,
You are pure beauty to me
I feel this way when I see your face.
I’m not dead yet…
Hello to all my great followers, and my apologies for my long absence.
So… off I went to have a fabulous time camping by myself in Colorado Springs from August 3rd through 8th, surrounded by hundreds of previously unmet, kindred spirits at the second annual Tiny House Jamboree, where a great time was had by around 60,000 wonderful people! For those of you reading this who might remember me from that weekend, I am the loony, magenta-haired English lady who volunteered at the merchandise stall on Saturday and Sunday!
The experience honestly made my heart soar. If I had any doubts about the path I have decided to follow in planning for, paying for, and building my own tiny house on wheels within the next year, it was only solidified by the wonderful new friends I made and the amazing speakers and vendors at this event.
But life is very good at throwing you curveballs, just when you believe you’re on track, doesn’t it?
Very early on the Monday morning following the end of the Jamboree, I awoke, relaxed and refreshed in my one-person tent to a clear, bright blue, Colorado Springs morning. I decided to grab the opportunity to pack up and hit the road so that I could be home before rush hour hit.
Well… that didn’t go as planned, did it?
The very last tent stake appeared determined to stay buried, exactly where it was. It obviously had no intention of heading for home. I pulled and pulled and pulled and – well – you can probably imagine what happened next.
You got it! I ended up in a heap on the ground with one thing I’d never had in my life before; a broken hip. I think this was the only thing that’s ever happened to me that I can honestly say hurt more than childbirth.
Yes… REALLY. I think I screamed my head off that day more than ever before in my life.
Many campers had already packed up and left for home the night before, but, luckily, I had chosen to camp fairly close to the Portapotties. I was only lying in the damp grass, drifting between throwing up and unconsciousness, for what seemed like 5 minutes before somebody appeared.
I’m one of those people that detests asking for help, but, you know what? Somehow I had no problem asking for help – although I guess I did it in a very British, stiff-upper-lip way; “Good morning! Would you mind very much coming over to help me when you’re done with the bathroom?” A slightly perplexed “Sure!” was the answer. Poor lady probably thought I was drunk or sunbathing. 😀 She did, however, return a few minutes later and realized the gravity of the situation (Gravity! LOL! Gravity strikes again!).
Before long there was a small crowd surrounding me and one lovely lady called 911 while another packed up the rest of my stuff. How I wish I could give them a shout out and remember their names, but I was way beyond trying to remember anything. These two lovely perfect strangers not only stayed with me until the ambulance came; one of them drove my car to the hospital and both stayed around until about the middle of the day to make sure I was being taken care of! There really are such things as modern day Samaritans. Dear Colleen Chesebro and her husband; who live not far away, came in to see me as well, which cheered me up a lot. I don’t remember much, but I CAN remember Ron saying “It will all be alright.” 😀 (Edit: Lainey has just jogged my ‘memory’ that, actually, Donna LaWall was there on the day I actually broke my hip and Colleen and Ron came the day after. What can I say? Those painkillers are bad news! Thanks, Donna ♥)
Later that day, the surgeon operated on my hip, running a nice, big pin and two nails to put me back together. Did you know they STAPLE you closed these days? Certainly took ME by surprise!
Anyway; today’s installment ends with me still being alive. Stay tuned for part two – part two is when the magic enters the story!