Over Hill Over Dale

So if you are a happy explorer and have ventured into the hills and valleys of cottage country, then you better be prepared. Forget GPS and cellphones – despite all the open skies there is often satellite interference and stretches of miles where you are in the dead zone (cue creepy music) – no cell phone signals.

Driving through acres of forests, even on a secondary highway, that on any given day really doesn’t see too much traffic means you better be more ready than the Boy Scouts. No distinguishing landmarks, unless you think you can figure out one spruce from another, and houses that look abandoned, complete with rusted out old pick-up trucks sitting in the tall grass, until, you catch a glimpse of someone peering suspiciously at you, as you slowly drive by, are what you will see.

A pre-trip vehicle inspection is necessary, because gas stations and mechanics are few,  and if you are unlucky and need roadside assistance, you may wait for hours before seeing a soul. Ensure your brakes are in fine working order, because if you suddenly round a corner, you’re more than likely going to meet a group of fellow travelers; it’s just that they are going in a different direction and will not be too helpful to you in your state of “lost in the back woods without a clue.”

Normally, these happy wanders aren’t too inclined to help – and if they are weary and spooked, you may just find yourself needing an insurance adjuster, after towing that is, to cap off your day. Gentle enough, these folk, but they aren’t the brightest of bulbs and are rather indecisive about their routes. You may have plans and places to be, but they really don’t care.

However, if you do manage to avoid this type of meeting, and continue along your way, be ready for the additional cost of new suspension and shocks, for it is certain that you will definitely leave asphalt for gravel – which in most cases, is a road that is minimally maintained, washes out into ruts worse than your Great Grandmother’s washboard, and there will inevitably be pot holes galore, forcing your driving skills to take on a new dimension – slalom on the slopes and straightaways.

My advice: generally country folk are hospitable enough – and if you manage to find an open corner store, chances are you will get the proper directions, including multiple variations with short-cuts and points of interest to consider. However, it has usually been my experience as witness, that by this point, you city folk are desperate and display sheer shock etched in pale faces, from your joy-ride thus far. Better to turn back and head home – if you can find your way, because for as much as we welcome the tourists, most are happy to see the tail lights of your vehicles, as you drive away.

WP Daily Prompt: Circuitous Paths: A stranger knocks on your door, asking for directions from your home to the closest gas station (or café, or library. Your pick!). Instead of the fastest and shortest route, give him/her the one involving the most fun detours.

Note: No stranger ever knocks on my door – no need for a doorbell when the girls are enough to cause anyone to stop dead in their tracks, even before leaving the road – which is private – as are most up here in cottage country. So strangers and knockers beware!

Peep!Peep!

In the grand Cosmos, I’m sure there is a gathering of the Great Feathered Ones who watch over certain births – including those perhaps deemed foul.

Such is the case of my untimely arrival – premature – clearly in a hurry – but nonetheless, too early. Although there was nothing physically wrong with me at all – all girlie bits intact and other systems go – but small is small, ergo – or perhaps eggo – foul.

From what point of view could I possibly relate a feathered tail other than that of an incubator?

Carefully swaddled and hustled into a warming oven, on a dark and cold late December’s night, the nursery quiet as there was some epic flu invasion happening, meaning the hospital could, in effect, be termed as “in lock down” – this is when I decided to announce myself to the world.

My menu read: Turn every 4 hours, baste and slow roast.

Perhaps this is why I am fond of little peepers?

In short, a warming roasting pan was my home for at least 6 weeks – and certainly, within this time, I was cared for by humans – nurses, my mother – and I suppose whoever else was permitted to enter the “sacred grounds” of maternity wards way back in the day, but of these people, I remember nothing. No offense to any of them, of course – clearly they did a great job – but truth be told – most of the credit has to be given to me – I was the one who decided to stick around in the slow roasting pan – and peep my way to full term.

Perhaps this too explains why I dislike winter’s cold – considering I spent the first few months of my life artificially tanned and warmed.

I suppose, in the end – now 45 years later – I’m still a chick at heart – even though I’m a bit of a “tough old broad.”

An added note: Thank you Great Feathered Ones for watching over my birth – not so fowl – but fair, in the long run.


WP Daily Prompt: Reverse Shot: What’s your earliest memory involving another person? Recreate the scene — from the other person’s perspective.

En garde!

A white glove is slipped off a hand – and with an elegant swipe, it slaps across a face.

“En garde!”

What? You are challenging me to a duel? You absolute fool – heh! I accept your challenge!

Swords or pistols?

Neither! We will battle in time-honored tradition –  Épée.

It is done.

 

Weapons chosen – attired in proper fashion – formalities performed – and so the ….

Huh? Oh sorry – my bad – Avant-Garde?

Well, of course it would be suggestive of a grand ego to think that I had indeed been well and truly ahead of my time in some flash of creative brilliance, leading to an innovation or technique that eventually would become fashionable and exceedingly desirable, thus lending to my credibility and fame and fortunes – but that is absolute nonsense.

The great artists – those often so well ahead of their times – would have gladly exchanged brilliance for a good old-fashioned beheading in moments of greatest despair and frustration; Genius may eventually be noted and heralded – but most often, it is a source of ridicule and rebuke. Do you think Van Gogh felt treasured and reaped the rewards of his brilliance? Surely, he was, by definition: avant-garde:artists, writers, musicians whose ideas, styles and methods are highly original or modern in the period in which they live”.

Google image - not sure of true source

Google image – not sure of source

Perhaps he used a good-old-fashioned rapier when he was dueling with his demons and cut off his ear?

An idea to consider when deciding if one would favor being “avant-garde”. Forwards thinking – yes – a good thing, but personally, I would rather be “en garde” – on duty and call, having been ahead of my time in several moments. The result – I lost my head. Nothing, but trials and grief, comes from being so forwards that you always are watching over your shoulder, looking back – wondering who is willing to duel with you.


 

 WP Daily Prompt: Avant Garde: From your musical tastes to your political views, were you ever way ahead of the rest of us, adopting the new and the emerging before everyone else?

Classical Fencing

Swept Off my Feet

As Autumn’s leaves fall the urge to clean sweep begins – in fury hasty lest Winter’s untimely arrival knock on the door.

Messy? Messy? I don’t “do” messy – ever. Everything in its place and space and every place and space in every thing odd – fibro brain fog does that to a person. You know, you take the milk out of the fridge, to splash into a cup of tea, only to discover a few minutes later that 1) the tea is still black 2) the milk isn’t in the fridge. Search high and low – stop for a puff or two – in anger or amusement – smoke a hit – and consider the possibilities. Eventually, if lucky I may find the milk – lounging in a cupboard with plates and bowls, or hiding under steel coating in the microwave. Sometimes, it has been known to walk itself down the hall into another room, resting casually on a shelf next to papers in need of filing.

The mind knows not how it wanders in moments clear – much less when fogged.

No – I’m not a neatnik – but I’m not crazy over the top messy. The problem lies somewhere between – never quite figuring out which system I should be using to best arrange my things.Outwardly, it all appears fairly orderly – but the chaos rules within and comes pushing out, bursting the seams, leaving a trail of debris and flotsam in its wake.

No matter – if I use my extra hour wisely – I can always de-clutter – sort through the ranks and files – toss in heaps, hide and tuck in new places until I really have the time and inclination to make a great and thorough job of it.

Problem?

found on Pintrest - sourced here Silver blonde via amerrymishap

found on Pintrest – sourced here Silver blonde via amerrymishap

To sleep – perchance to dream.

I’d rather spend an extra blessed hour resting – sleeping the slumber of the dead – which means no distractions, noises, or NASCAR racing through the house. There is nothing short of painful injuries sustained as a result of dog accu-pressure – 2 girls chasing a 3rd, with pit stops on the bed. I am the unfortunate who pays the price.

So in my world, be it as it is – some times weirdly amusing, others foggy fragmented, or plain vanilla boring, I don’t mind messes but sure could use quality sleep.


 

WP Daily Prompt: Sweeping Motions: What’s messier right now — your bedroom or you computer’s desktop (or your favorite device’s home screen)? Tell us how and why it got to that state.

WP Daily Prompt: Twenty-Five Seven: Good news — another hour has just been added to every 24-hour day (don’t ask us how. We have powers). How do you use those extra sixty minutes?

Welcome Center

… even God rested on the 7th day …

index


Think about the town where you currently live: its local customs, traditions, and hangouts, its slang. What would be the strangest thing about this place for a first-time visitor? WP Daily Prompt


 

Seriously, if I did answer this – I could be hunted down and disposed of in a not so out-of-the-way location. Strange is as strange does as strange is – especially when residents are respectably a law unto themselves.

Chasing Rabbits

It seems I’ve been down this road before – if I go chasing rabbits, it’s predictably unpredictable what I meet down the hole.

Getting out of the bed at whatever hour – I sleep in time slices – thank you chronic pain and fibromyalgia – and having to circus contortionist myself around my girls (they are dogs – note to self: must remember to write the “meet the crew” post) and hoping I land on my feet is stress inducing in itself. My intention of landing on my feet, in a vertical position, is my deepest wish – because if you’ve ever had the very unpleasant experience of crawling around on your hands and knees, unable to move with ease, as pain wracks your body and you are silently screaming while sobbing uncontrollably, then the idea of having 2 suddenly very excited dogs, weighing in at about 120 lbs total – falling all over you, is not a good thing. Especially at 2 a.m.

If you’ve been out partying to the wee hours and are in a semi-drunken stupor – with pounding head, the sudden urge to throw-up while the room is spinning and you can’t find the floor, but think it’s all hilarious in some way – well – hats off to the follies of youth. This isn’t anxiety.

Seriously, I’ve suffered from anxiety most of my life – even not being aware of it at times; those life chunks were periods when I was so super involved in whatever that it wasn’t even a consideration in my mind.

Anxiety is a fight or flight response – and I normally choose to fight. It’s just who I am. Somewhere in this muddled brain I figure I’ll just deal with the high stress and nuclear fallout of emotions later – because in the moment, it’s as if I’m on a mission – high alert, crisis situation.

The only way to truly understand anxiety is to understand the causes behind it. Situations are triggers – so digging deeply in inner homework and uncovering the damaged roots/routes is the first step in understanding. Then it’s a question of response and behavior modification – which simply put – means re-programming your brain. And no, this isn’t as easy as it sounds.

If you are so conditioned to respond to certain “high stress/anxiety” situations – and it’s been going on for years – then nothing is going to resolve itself over night. It takes dedication, desire and the need to really want to heal – there are no quick fixes.

Actually – that’s not true. Pop a pill – in my case – little pink beauties – and chemical compositions start re-composing themselves in new lines and rhythms – and presto – a new song is born.

The thing is – sometimes it’s more interesting to fall down the hole and meet the characters along the way. It’s just that ultimately – I only want to visit – not stay.

Jefferson Airplane – White Rabbit


 

It’s the night before an important event: a big exam, a major presentation, your wedding. How do you calm your nerves in preparation for the big day? WP Daily Prompt


 

Some great responses

Limes transcribed

Conversation overheard and transcribed with self to self

So here I am rambling away, having re-ignited Lemon Lime Follies -

“yeah, cause I don’t have enough in my bowl with the pain and all the writing I’m already doing over at Write Up the Spine ….”

No matter this – it just seemed logical to start it back up – I own the DOTcom -

“does any one really have the right to “own” anything comrade?”

Huh? Comrade?

“you heard me – Comrade.”

Where in hell’s holy handbag is this coming from – is there a revolution going on that has slipped my mind -

“yup – revolution/evolution of the socialist brain cells that are now, as we speak, plotting the overthrow of any reasonable and laughable – I add with a snort – sense of controlling analytical bullshit you are parading through your mind – mind, you are not in uniform Comrade.”

Listen you!

“hah! – don’t you mean, listen me listen you … ahuh  – there is nothing we can’t do? listen me listen you – we can make it this time – it’s true – breaking making up is never easy I know …”

Are you channeling ABBA?

“no – you are – or rather – we are – as in – I – me – you – we – because – need I remind you again – make note to self – “OTHER” self – stop screwing around and remember through the fog, that we are one in the same – there is no true other – we are not separate – we are in this together – one for all and all for one – in  this case both you and I – me and we – them and us – us and you – I – me.”

Okay – what’s going on here – I demand answers and satisfaction – and let me just say that if you don’t start behaving and stop being such a bloody smart ass fruitier than thou pain in my butt -

“Hah! довольно!

Huh?

“clearly you haven’t been paying attention comrade. You are too busy parading around, minus the uniform, with loftier than I ideas – when I keep saying that we are one – you – me and a dog named Red – got it! No more tongue wagging – Comrade Stalin is getting upset and might consider throwing you into a prison camp for being so subversively stupid in the moment – there is only so much I can do to save our collective asses – and you are not helping at all.”

Stalin?! Stalin? …. but he’s dead – died years ago … so how could you possibly be suggesting that he is going to anything at all? Have you been drinking again? A shot or 3 of Vodka? You know you aren’t supposed to mix alcohol with -

“Comrade bullshitting bossy boots – довольно!  Again – we are one – in you and I – we are but one. как это ни странно  – oddly enough as it may sound to you – but Stalin is here with us – you – me – us – because – we – we two-three-three-two are reading – books – because good revolutionaries/evolutionaries are informed – I leave out the intelligence bit – for your own sake – my aspect is still integral to the ghost in the machine -

What exactly have “we” been reading then – clearly I’m not remembering any of this, so please, enlighten me.

  • Nicholas & Alexandra by Robert K. Massie
  • The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out The Window and Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson

and lined up, as well

  • A Brief History of 1917 Russia’s Year of Revolution by Roy Bainton

“Satisfied? Clearly you need to pay more attention to the details Comrade. It’s all about being prepared. Much like the Red Scouts. So, stop wasting our time and let’s get back to business here – Lemon Lime Follies is a domain that belongs to the people – because “they” asked for it.”

And thus the overheard conversation ended

 


   

довольно = enough!

как это ни странно   = strangely or oddly enough

For this week’s challenge, let someone else do the talking. The Daily Post Weekly Challenge: Interview