Winter Season

I’m sorry everyone. I got out of order. Here’s what’s really next. Promise to pay closer attention next time.

Smile

Please be advised ADULT LANGUAGE!

Oscar chuckled. “Unless we have an Earthquake, I don’t think your bed will be rocked too much.”

“You’re not going to throw a wild party and all your drunk guests come over and t.p. my tree?”

He smiled despite himself. “No.” A thought crept into his mind. Maybe he could rock her bed sometime?

“If you don’t mind me saying, you have a nice smile. You should smile more.”

“Thank you.” She had her right arm draped over the back of the couch with her hand dangling toward the cushions. He noticed the ring on her hand. Had it been there the whole time? It was silver with a large yellow gem in the center with what looked like a little cluster of diamonds on each side. He slid his hand under hers, “that is a lovely ring.”

“Thanks,” she smiled a sad smile. “Some friends of mine bought it for me when I got baptized.”

“That is an amazing gift.”

She seemed to get lost in that moment.

He wished she would tell him what she was thinking.

Finally she replied, “it was. But what was the most amazing part was that the church was a sea of black uniforms.”

He asked her to stay another night. There wasn’t much thinking to it this night. No heat, no cleaning had gotten done. They had pretty much spent the afternoon talking. She was amazed at how much she enjoyed talking to him. How easy conversation just flowed. He was a very smart man. Seemed to be genuinely kind, and smelt so good.

Monday rolled around and as Oscar went to work, she went to buy cleaning supplies.  

There was a warm feeling in Oscar’s heart as he pulled out of the drive way. This wonderful woman could become a friend. A friend he needed. He allowed a little smile to dance across his face. Little smile. Why not a big one? He thought. No one’s looking. No one will know. His mood reached heights it hadn’t been in years. The snowball fight, dinner, watching her sleep, and she was so easy to talk to. It all played through his mind.

That stupid cartoon grin of his brothers played through his mind crashing his mood. He still felt embarrassed every time he thought about it. Too him, his family was horrible. It made him feel good that Esther stood up to his brother. He tried but then when he did the effort only made him feel worse. Like he was the one doing something wrong.

He jumped out of his skin when his cellphone rang. His mother’s name showed up. This was going to be a treat. The easiest thing to do was not answer. But for some reason he couldn’t do that. His mother didn’t have anything good to say about him, EVER. From the moment he accepted the call, she started. “Who was the whore of Babylon? Whore, whore.” Every other word was whore, slut, whore, loose women. On and on she squawked. She sounded like a cage full of birds. “Your brother told me about your all weekend sex scandal. You should be more like him and find you a woman to marry. What’s wrong with Doris? Oh and what business did she have attackin’ Pussy? She’s a good girl that would never hurt a soul.”  Oscar’s head started spinning and his vision became blurry. It was all he could do to pull off the road. “Whore, slut, tramp, Doris just ain’t good enough for you is she? You’ve always acted like you were better than us.”

On she talked but he couldn’t remember about what. Her voice continued to echo inside his head. Swirling like a raging tornado.

He couldn’t breathe. His heart was being squeezed out of his chest. With great difficulty he squeaked, “at work,” before shutting off the phone.

Winter Season

So excited..

I’ve always been jealous of people who have always known what they wanted to be when they grew up. You know that person. The one that says, “I knew from the time I was 3 that I wanted to be a ————. Fill in their answer here.

I thought I’ve never had such ambitions. Most times I feel like a Wal-Mart bag caught on the wind. Oh, this looks good, I can do that. I might be able to do this.. but.

A friend of mine was encouraged by her therapist to journal. While trying to help her explore ways around conventional journaling, I discovered the world of blogging. People blog about EVERYTHING. Really they do.

I asked some questions. Found a platform and started blogging myself. All the while, I’m having a conversation with God about this direction. I have a really difficult time knowing if God put an idea in my head or not. There is some really good talent out there. Can I really hold my own?

While looking back through works I’ve kept, I found stuff from 8th grade that I had written. Maybe I’ve always been interested in some form of writing?

Statistically, I’m not going to be able to quit my day job. Authors like Stephen King are not the normal.

Monday, I received my first in-depth peer review. A fellow blogger, part time writer asked if he could do a review of a short story I had posted.

I always question my direction. Is it God? Or is Satan trying to trick me?

John 8:44 KJV – 44 ….When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it.

After he asked me if I cared, I was excited to hear what he had to say. Then after I read his review, I was on cloud nine.

Is that you God? Encouraging me to chase my passion but don’t give up my day job.

Proverbs 3:5-6 KJV

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

Thank you God for laying a path for me to follow.

Thank you Ted for an encouraging review.

(The Moon is Too Bright) To See Many Stars

Thanks to Doyle for laying the groundwork.

Winter Season

Church

She was amazed when he walked out of the hallway. There really wasn’t anything fancy about the way he was dressed; a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He just looked nice. “You look nice this morning.” She liked the way his hair laid. Who did he have his hair cut like? She couldn’t think.

“Good morning.” He sounded a little surprised. “Thanks,” he smiled.

“Mornin’,” she stretched, yawned and rubbed her face trying to wake up.

He extended his hands to help her out of the floor.

She took a deep breath and sighed, “hmm Old Spice.”

He just smiled.

“So, what’s the chance I will get to go shopping for cleaning supplies today?”

He called after her, “none till after lunch.”

When she finally emerged, his heart skipped a beat. She looked amazing in just blue jeans and a royal blue sweater, and her hair was all over the place. It was at that moment he noticed just how amazing her eyes were. They were a pale shade of blue that reminded him of the lake where he spent so much time with his dad.

“Okay then Mr. Patterson, what does one do on Sunday in this town?”

“Please call me Oscar.”

She sat down beside of him on the couch angling her body so she could see him as they talked, “as you wish.”

“One goes to church, stays at home, or goes to the lake.”

“Oh church,” she gasped. “Please don’t let me stop you from going to church.”

“You’re not. The pastor called this morning. Too many of the congregation have the flu so he just called it off.”

“Okay.” That seemed odd but she was in a new place.

“Will you go to church with me some time?”

She smiled. “We can give it a whirl.”

“May I ask what that means?

“I don’t have a very high opinion of organized religion. I believe, I have been saved and baptized, and I try to do what Jesus has commanded me to do. And I know that we are supposed to worship with like-minded believers. Personally, I feel like churches have gotten too segregated. Each church has to have its own playground, its own activity center, they’re like little compounds.”

“But the Bible also tells us to come out from among them.”

“Yes it does but it also tells us as Christians that we are to take the gospel to the people. We can’t expect the people to come to us.”

“So how do you make that fine distinction?”

“I’m not sure. But churches have gone overboard. And what is with praise and worship teams? I rented this adorable little house. At first, I didn’t know that it was right in the middle of two churches. You could stand on my porch and see both of them. It was a contest to see which church could vibrate my bed. I would be lying in the bed at night an honestly, you could feel the bass. Why?”  

“He did say make a joyful noise.” Oscar smiled. It was nice to have someone to talk to.  How amazing it was to have a conversation. You can’t have a conversation with teenagers, all they do is text. Other teachers complain about work. His family made him feel like crap. Chet and Bell were about the only two people that he had to talk to but sometimes it was all about their jobs. Which he understood that conversations were two way streets, but one can only hear so much about changing adult diapers. And sometimes, though words were not spoken, he was sure Chet was tired of him being sick all the time.

“Yes he did.” Esther brought him back to the conversation at hand. “But he didn’t say; shake thy neighbor’s bed while you’re doing it.”

Winter Season

Spring forward, fall back.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo.
Scream it at the top of your lungs.
Would someone pick one?
Leave us alone.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo. Scream until you turn blue in the face. Pick one already. Leave us alone.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo.
Scream ‘til you can scream no more. Year after year, it’s the same chore. Leave us alone.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo.
No one is listening to me.
My plea goes unanswered. Pick one and leave us be.

Winter Season

Test continued

Please be advised ADULT LANGUAGE!

Esther continued grading her paper.

Question 4

List 5 types of natural disasters discussed in this chapter. 1. landslides, 2. acid rain, 3. droughts, 4. earthquakes, 5. Floods

Acid rain was on his answer key, but she wondered how it could be listed as a true natural disaster. So she asked, “how is acid rain a natural disaster?” He gave her a very shocked look. “I know that rain occurs naturally without any help from man. Though during times of extreme drought man does try to seed clouds. But the acid is a byproduct of our fossil fuel consumption. So how is acid rain a natural disaster?”

“Well!” He was amazed and a little floored. He felt the tingle not only in his brain but his groin. He rubbed his hand through his hair. “Not all acid rain is produced as a result of human consumption. Acid rain is also caused by volcanic eruptions or extreme forest fires where lightning started the blaze not man.”

“Hmm, good point.”

He was in total shock. What kind of woman was this sitting in his living room floor? A new kind, that voice inside him answered. Maybe one that could stimulate his brain and his body?

She ran her fingers through her hair again. It occurred to him he was staring at her. Again. And that tingling feeling was growing stronger.

“You used neotenous while we were playing in the snow.”

She leaned against the couch angling her body toward him. “Do you not think we were being neotenous?”

“It’s a zoology term.”

“Are we not animals?” He stared at her for a long moment. “We are separate from other animals on this planet for a lot of different reasons. But at the end of the day, are we not animals?”

“I’d never really thought about it.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair again.

She scooted back to the coffee table grading her test: Question 5

Give me a general definition for plate tectonics. Movement of the Earths plates

Question 6

What happens at a divergent boundary? Two of the Earth’s plates are being pulled apart.

Question 7

What happens at a convergent boundary? One plate falls under another plate

Question 8

What is a transform fault boundary? It’s when my dad drinks up the electric bill money, blames mom when the lights get turned off then beats the hell out of her, transforming her face into something new.

“I think Little Bill’s mom is in a domestic violence situation.”

“Excuse me.” Oscar looked up.

“Question 8 of this test you asked, ‘what is a transform fault boundary?’ He wrote; ‘it’s when my dad drinks up the electric bill money, blames mom when the lights get turned off then beats the hell out of her, transforming her face into something new.’ Oh there’s more on the back. ‘The only boundary he knows is leaving me alone or mom would kill him.’” She looked up at Oscar.

“Every teacher up there has reported Bill’s parents to social services.”

“Let me guess, too large of a work load and not enough money. Little Billy will be in college before they help him.”

“Or dead.”

“Typical.”

Question 9

What is the best known transform fault in the United States? San An Drayous

Question 10

How long does scientist estimate it took to form the Canadian Rockies? 10 million years

They graded papers for hours. When morning finally arrived, she was stirred by the smell of coffee. To her embarrassment, she had fallen asleep in the floor. Oscar had been kind enough to put a pillow under her head and a blanket over her.

Winter Season

The past: dead yesterdays?

Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

I saw someone today that I knew back when.

If the past is dead, why do we seek it?

Familiarity?

~

If the past is dead,

why does it drive our imagination to relive it?

Longing?

~

If the past is truly dead,

why grief for it?

Desire?

~

Was the past really better than today?

Will tomorrow be worse than yesterday?

Comparisons?

~

My dad grieved over lost yesterdays.

Was the present not enough?

Confusing?

~

Why does the past evoke such strong emotions in us?

If it’s dead?

Human.

~

The past may be dead.

But because we lived it. Loved in it.

We can’t let it go. Nostalgia.

<

We grief.

We mourn.

We rage against yesterday.

~

Yesterday’s gone.

But those feelings live on.

In our heads and our hearts.

~

The good.

The bad.

The worst.

~

The pretty.

The beautiful.

The ugly.

~

Yesterday is dead.

Gone.

But not lost.

~

Yesterday is dead.

History made.

Not forgotten.

~

Don’t go searching for the future in the past.

Remember it so you don’t repeat it.

It’s the past for a reason.