Monday, January 31, 2011

Story Orgy: Week 3

It always surprises me when Monday morning rolls back around and I realize another week has gone by...but here it is.  And, even for all my worrying and gnashing of teeth to get my prompt done on time (did I forget to mention I was a procrastinator?), Monday's are now my favorite day of the week.  Hands down.

So without further ado, here is the third installment of the Story Orgy, submitted for your reading pleasure.  Please, please, please, be sure to check out the links to the other members following this won't be disappointed.

Happy Monday, everyone!

This week's prompt:  "Whatever you do, don't turn the light on.  Please."

This week's image, courtesy of Jade Baiser:


“You do know he is a complete waster?”  Luce’s harsh comment was in his ear, still barely audible above the din of noise inside the club.

Chris shrugged noncommittally and continued sucking his Vodka cranberry, gnawing on the small, brown plastic straw between sips.

A disgusted sigh was Luce’s only response as she stood up from the leatherette bench where they sat, backs against the wall.  Same as they had done nearly every Friday night since the weekly karaoke had been established.  Luce knew why, everyone in their little group did, and his reason was a favorite topic of conversation, whether Chris was around to hear it or not.  But, even their continued discouragement and good intentions weren’t enough to get Chris to see the truth about Gus.

“So, do you sing?”  One of those good intentions asked.

How pathetic was it, to be set up on a blind date?  Clearly not as pathetic as it was to accept and meet up at a place where you could ogle the one that you had been in love with for as long as you could remember, but clearly had not a snowballs chance in hell of ever having love you in return.

Yes.  Chris was King of Loserville because the heart wanted what it wanted.  And, his pathetic heart had only ever wanted Gus.

He smiled at the guy sitting next to him, Luce’s attractive and, obviously interested, co-worker from the law firm where she worked as a paralegal.  He was an intern there while finishing up a law degree at the local university Chris also attended.  He was perfect on paper, Chris had to wonder why the hell he ever needed to agree to a blind date.

“No one wants to hear that.”  Chris answered lightly, sitting up a little straighter when he saw Gus out of the corner of his eye, standing at the bar.   

Friday night karaoke was when Gus showed up.  Ever the future rock star and perpetually broke, Friday’s were payday for Gus. $200 bucks and all the booze he could drink was an offer Gus couldn’t afford to pass up.

“Oh, look, it’s Prince Charming.”  Luce announced, placing a fresh drink in front of Chris.  “Next round’s on you.”  She plopped down into the seat beside him again.

The brows on Chris’s date furrowed as he followed Chris’s gaze to the bar.

Leaning on an elbow, beer bottle in hand, Gus’s head was bent toward a petite little red head with way too much skin showing.  Gus was in his element, dramatic and boisterous as he tossed his head back with a throaty laugh that Chris could still make out above all the noise in the club.  He gestured wildly with his arms, always seeming to talk with his entire body.  Chris could imagine the dreamy look the girl would have on her face as Gus talked her up.  He was so skilled at making you think you were the center of his universe while simply making conversation.

Chris had been enthralled with that ability for years…and had been on the receiving end of Gus’s undivided attention enough to know how addictive it could be.  Chris briefly felt sorry for the girl at the bar, but shut it down when he saw Gus lean in to whisper in her ear.

The straw in his drink ground between his teeth.

“Pathetic.”  Luce moaned, shaking her head in disgust.

Chris  had been in love with Gus for as long as he could remember.  They had grown up neighbors, side by side, since Kindergarten, when Gus’s parents divorced and he and his mom had moved into the rental house next door to Chris and his family.

They had always been as different as night and day.  Chris was small, waifish, good in school and scared of his own shadow, while Gus was brash, loud and always big for his age and never caring about anything but having a good time.  They were two sides of the same coin.  Complete opposites.

They knew each other better than anyone, best friends from the moment they had met, and Gus hadn’t batted an eye when Chris had confessed he was gay during their Freshman year in high school.  Inseparable as they were, Gus had noticed fleeting glances from Chris when he had slept over and had never commented on Chris’s lack of interest in girls at school; the fact that Chris was gay was never an issue between the two friends.

Both boys had grown to accept what was and what couldn’t be…though for Chris, that proved harder and harder to do.

But as the years went on, it also grew easy for Gus to take advantage of Chris’s affection.  Gus hadn’t had an easy life.  With a struggling mother who was never home, frequent would-be step-fathers in and out of his life, the constant instability had left him jaded.

While Chris attended college, Gus drank, sponging off whatever friend  happened to be closest, forever aimless and drunk…or worse, and more often than not, he ended up on Chris’s doorstep when all other options had panned out.

If Chris let himself think about it, he could be bitter, being Gus’s last resort, but he tried to ignore those ugly thoughts, always forever dreaming that Gus would one day realize that there could be more between them than just friendship; that their was a reason he always ended up at Chris’s door.

Oh, you couldn’t get much more pathetic than that.

“Why don’t we give it a go?”  Chris’s date, for lack of a better term, suggested with a smile.

“Singing?”  Chris asked incredulously, taking the new drink in his hand nervously.

“Who’s singing?”

Chris was glad it was so loud in the club, so no one could hear the glass rattling in his glass when Gus and the girl sat in the seats opposite their table.

“I am hoping I can talk Chris into a duet.”  His date boldly answered.

“Aye?  That so?”  Gus smirked as he threw his arm across the back of the seat, allowing little red haired girl to sidle in close to him.

Chris hid a flinch behind the rim of his glass.

“It’s not unheard of, it is karaoke after all.  Isn’t that the point?”  Chris’s date nudged him gently in the arm before extending his hand in Gus’s direction.  “Miles Hamilton.  Nice to meet you.”

Gus cocked a brow at Chris before leaning casually forward to grasp Miles’s hand.  “Peter Augustus Colcutt.”  He offered tersely before settling back into his seat.  Giving his full name was always a dead giveaway that Gus didn’t like you.  “Just so you know, our Chrissy here, doesn’t sing.”

Chris felt like he had swallowed glass hearing Gus call him Chrissy.  It felt like a dig and Chris had no idea where that came from.

“I sing.”  He felt the need to announce, watching Gus swallow long pulls from his beer bottle while signaling the passing waitress for another.

Gus’s laugh was bitter this time.  “I’ve never heard you sing.”

“Just because you haven’t experienced it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.”  Chris cryptically replied.

The color in Gus’s face  rose, and Chris wanted for all the world to take a sick kind of satisfaction in that, but knew it was probably more the alcohol’s doing than anything Chris might ever say to him.

“It’s settled then.”  Miles announced, taking the drink from Chris before clasping his hand gently and standing, pulling Chris to his feet.

“Break a leg, boys.”  Gus called out to them as they made their way to the karaoke stage.

Chris couldn’t help but enjoy himself.  Miles was light-hearted and funny and made him feel special with just a warm smile.  But, it was hard to maintain with Gus getting more and more drunk and belligerent as the night wore on.  And, Chris grew more and more embarrassed with each verbal jab.

When Gus took the stage to sing “I’m Too Sexy” and dedicating it to Miles, Chris was seething.

“And, that’s my cue to leave.”  Miles announced, as he slipped his arms into his suit coat.

“I am so sorry.”  Chris offered in apology, not knowing why or what had brought out the meanness in Gus tonight.

“Hey, it’s not your fault.”  Miles said, reaching into his coat pocket for a set of keys.  “I still had a really nice time.”

“Oh…you did?”  Chris was truly shocked.

Miles laughed.  “I did, and…I’d really like to do it again sometime…if you wanted?”

Wow…a second date?  Even after this fiasco?

“I would like that, too.”  Chris answered honestly, smiling into Miles’s handsome face.

“Great.  I’ll give you a call tomorrow?”

“Yes.”  Chris nodded.  “Yes, do.”

Miles smiled broadly and before Chris knew what was happening, was pressing his lips lightly to Chris’s.  It was a small, warm brushing of lips, that was over far too quickly to register as anything but chaste.

“It was nice to meet you, Chris, and I will talk to you tomorrow.”

Chris nodded, watching him as he left the club, catching a glimpse of Gus watching him leave, too, something flashing across his face that Chris couldn’t decipher.


The bed shifted and a warm body pressed all up against Chris’s back, an arm wrapping around his chest to pull him in even closer.  Chris sighed, he loved this dream.

“Are you in love with him?”

Chris jumped, the low voice at his ear so not a dream.

“Gus?  What the hell are you doing?” He tried to pull away, but Gus held him firm and still where he was.

“Tell me…are you in love with him?”  His voice was rough from the lateness of the hour and way too much alcohol.

“In love with who?  What are you talking about?”

Chris looked at the clock by his bed, 4:19…no wonder he couldn’t make sense of what was going on.  If he wasn’t still half asleep he might have been worried that Gus had managed to get into his place without waking him.

Wait…what?  How did he…

Gus’s hand spread wide across Chris’s chest.  “Mr. Perfect tonight, at the club…”

Chris groaned. “Are you kidding me.  It was a blind date, Gus…”

“You kissed him.”  He whispered, his mouth hovering at Chris’s ear, causing him to shiver.

“Yeah?  You kissed that chick, what’s the big deal?”  Chris tried to ignore the gentle, light movements of Gus’s fingers on his chest.

“I didn’t want to kiss that chick…”  His answer seemed more a thought he let slip out.

Chris’s mind was spinning and it pissed him off.  Typical Gus, drunk and doing whatever the hell he felt like.

“So why did you?  Why do you?”  Chris angrily pulled away from Gus, sitting up in the bed beside him.

With a heavy sigh, Gus rolled to his back.  “Because…”

“Jesus!  You sound just like you did when we were five.  Because, because, because…because WHY?”  Chris nearly yelled in frustration.

But, as usual, his only answer was silence.

“Right.  That’s it.”  Chris shoved his hands through his hair, throwing back the cover and standing up.  “I can’t do this anymore, Gus…” He reached to turn on the bedside lamp, wanting to find his clothes and throw Gus out once and for all...

“Whatever you do,”  Gus’s voice was small, strained.  “Don’t turn the light on.  Please.”

That was a first.  Gus never begged, for anything, and the sound of it made Chris freeze where he stood, nothing could have made him turn a light on now as the moment hung, suspended.

“What’s going on, Gus?”  Chris asked quietly, like he was talking to a wild animal, scared to send him bolting.

Chris could make out the silhouette of Gus lying there, the light of the hallway bathroom enough to let Chris see him lying there, staring at the ceiling.

“If you turn on the light you will see me.”  He continued looking up, but his hand fisted in the sheets where Chris had been lying.


“So, I don’t want to be me…”

“Why?  Gus, what the fuck is going on?”  Chris was so frustrated he wanted to scream.

“Don’t you get it?”  Gus roared, sitting up in a rush.  “I want to be him!  I want to be that guy you want…the one that kisses you and sings with you and should have been in this bed if he wasn’t such a fucking wanker!” be continued...

Please check out the blogs of the other Story Orgy members:

The Story Orgy

Monday, January 24, 2011

Story Orgy: Week 2

 Another week has gone by...where does the time go?  And, I have absolutely nothing to show for it.  C'est la vie...

Luckily, it's Monday...yes, I said it, it's Monday and that's a good thing in my book.  Monday means Story Orgy day and that is a whole heap of goodness right there!

So, here is this week's offering.  Please follow the links at the end to enjoy the five other smokin' hot members of the Orgy.  There is something bound to please everyone.


This week's prompt:   The doorbell rings.  You open it and find two packages on the porch- one large and one small.

This week's image:

Special Delivery

“Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message service.  The number you are trying to reach is not available.  At the tone…”

Will hung up the phone before the recorded message could continue.  It’s not like he hadn’t heard that mechanical female voice twenty times in the past two hours.

Two fucking hours late.  And, who, in this day and age, was out of reach for that long?  Who, in 2011, couldn’t find some way to get in touch with their boyfriend to let them know they would be late for a date?  Two hours late!

Looking around the dining room just  made Will that much angrier.   He flopped down into a chair at the table, pouring the rest of the bottle of red wine into his glass.  Who cared?  This  was his fucking birthday, this was what he had wanted…a nice, quiet night in; a private celebration.  They were both so crazy busy with work and just never seemed to have enough time to spend together, it seemed like a perfect way to celebrate turning the big 3-0.

And, he couldn’t even manage that, could he?  Nice to know where you stood with someone.

One phone call…just one, was all it would have taken to smooth things over.   But, no…John couldn’t even manage to be that considerate.  Honestly, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Will…The honeymoon  was definitely over and things had been stale and stagnant for a while now.

They had both blamed it on being overworked; too tired to put in only the minimum of effort, but now Will had to wonder.  Was this is it?  Did middle age and settling down mean the spark naturally faded?

With a sad shake of his head and a heavy sigh, more than a little light-headed,  he leaned over the dining table to blow out the candles that lit the center of the table when the doorbell rang.

A  glance at the clock on the mantel was a quick reminder that it was too late for anyone just ‘stopping by’.    Grabbing his glass, his brows furrowed and a growl threatened to escape his throat as he turned toward the door.

“You had better have lost your keys and be ringing that doorbell with your cock,”  He grumbled,  to himself, taking a long, fortifying sip as he reached the door.  “Because your fingers have to be bro…” 

Will stopped dead, swinging the door wide as he eyed the delivery man standing on his threshold.  Oh, hell.   “Happy birthday to me…”  He muttered, eying the man up and down.  Jack finished off his glass of wine as he took in the sight, his mouth suddenly desert-dry.

He was a long, tall drink of khaki-clad water, meeting everyone of Will’s trigger points; those brawny steel-toed work boots, hard-toned thighs revealed beneath the tight cotton fabric covering them, lean waist, broad chest and shoulders, with just the right amount of dark chest hair peeking from the couple of buttons undone at his throat.  His name tag merely said, ‘Terry’.  Finally taking his eyes from the inviting v at his neck, Will was struck dumb by the quirk of full lips in the stubbled face, surrounded by hair that was a thick, luxurious black with grey at the temples and piercing green eyes that locked unwaveringly with his own, and Will could feel his face grow warm.

It has to be the wine.   He silently told himself, though the flush registered in more places than just his face.

“Delivery for…”  The man looked at his invoice before locking eyes with Will again and offering a knowing smile.  “Mr. Thompson?”

Hearing that, Will finally noticed the square, neatly wrapped package the man held in his hand, and something in Will just shifted.

Forget John. 

Clearing his throat, Will flashed a wide smile.  “That would be me.”  He reached for the gift, allowing his fingers to brush the inside of the delivery man’s wrist.

He lifted a brow inquisitively, as Will just continued to smile.

“Great.  So, I’ll need your signature here.”  He held his little clipboard to Jack, reaching for his breast pocket.  “Sorry, I forgot my pen in the truck, let me just…”

“Oh, don’t worry…Terry.”  Will quipped with a smirk, turning back into the living room, motioning him to follow after he had closed the door.  “No sense in you walking all the way out and back, when I have one right here.”

Terry smiled to himself as he trailed in Will’s wake.   The man was smaller than himself by a couple of inches, slighter in build with more of an athlete’s leanness.  Blond and blue-eyed, almost delicate in stature compared to Terry’s roughness, he couldn’t help but enjoy the view as they made their way past the dining room, into the adjoining kitchen.

“Now I understand.”  Terry offered out loud as Will absently tossed the gift on the counter and searched a drawer for the pen .

“Excuse me?”

Terry cleared his throat, realizing he had spoken aloud.   He gave a nod toward the dining room and the table set up for dinner.   “I just meant, I understand now why you were more than normally surprised to see a delivery man on your doorstep.  You were expecting someone…”

Will scoffed, finally holding a pen up in victory.  “Yeah, I had been ‘expecting’ someone for a few hours now.”  He replied sarcastically.

“Ouch.”  Terry cringed.  “The, umm…girlfriend?  Is that late, huh?”  He fished.

Will signed the paper, his anger rekindled after being reminded of being stood up on his birthday.  “That would be ‘boyfriend’, and yes, he’s that late.”  He wanted to say more, but held his tongue from letting the hurt speak for him.  He gave himself a mental shake, and smiled invitingly at the handsome delivery man standing in his kitchen.  “Awfully late for you to have to be out, so I won’t keep you.”  He said, handing the little clipboard over to Terry.

“It is late…”  Terry echoed for lack of anything else to say.

“I feel bad that you had to work late to deliver that.”  He indicated the package on the kitchen counter with a nod of his head before he started toward the door.  He had barely taken a step when a large, warm hand wrapped around his wrist, holding him gently in place.

“You were my last stop, so I’m free…”  Terry had stepped into Will, his front close enough to Will’s back that they could both feel the heat between them.  Close to Will’s ear he quietly added, “…for the night.”

The spell was cast.  The delicious brush of Terry’s warm breath against Will’s ear was so inviting that he let himself melt against Terry.  Nothing between them but the layers of their clothing, the wicked invitation was one neither could resist.

“Your boyfriend’s not here.”  Terry tempted, nuzzling the tender shell of Will’s ear.

“No,”  Will all but breathed, angling his head to allow Terry’s mouth to trace the curve of his jaw.  “He’s not here.”

Taking Will’s capitulation and running with it, Terry easily spun Will on his heel, crowding him against the kitchen wall.  Will gasped, loving the full frontal contact, their bodies fused from chest to toe.  Terry’s eyes were a stormy sea as he stared down into the beauty of Will’s face.

“Your boyfriend is such an ass.”  He whispered against Will’s mouth, licking his lips in anticipation.

Will weakly nodded, unable to look away from the full-on hunger etched in Terry’s face.  “He so is.”  Will was able to get out before the fullness of Terry’s lips claimed his own.

Oh, God…  They were as soft as they looked, and once Will gave in to the taste and he was lost.

Terry groaned, loving the feel of Will’s complete surrender, their bodies yearning, struggling against the other; hard flesh meeting eager, searching hands; lips and teeth and tongue fuel to an already raging inferno.

Grinding hips and clutching shoulders, arms; reaching round to grasp the firm, rounded ass, they were a heaving, gasping tangle.  Terry devoured Will, towering over him, kissing deeply, stroking and petting, clasping his head between his hands as he reveled in the taste and texture of Will’s mouth.

Thrusting urgently, Will ground his cock against Terry’s, eliciting a hungry moan and throaty laugh from the tall man.  Following Will’s open invitation, Terry forced his hand between their bodies, rubbing the long, hard length of Will’s cock with the heel of his hand.

Will closed his eyes, breaking the kiss as he let his head rest against the wall, thrusting into Terry’s eager hand with a moan.

“I love that sound.”  Terry whispered against the long column of Will’s exposed throat, licking and nipping at the pulse point thrumming at the base of his neck.  “Will you make it for me again?”  He prompted as he maneuvered the fly of Will’s pants open, finally pulling that heated flesh into his eager palm.

“Shit.”   Will hissed in pleasure, and managed to get Terry’s pants undone as well.

Will smiled when Terry froze the second his hand closed tightly around his swollen shaft.  Burying his face in Will’s neck, Terry struggled for control, loving the surprisingly strong grip.

It was Will’s turn to give a low laugh.  “You sound pretty good yourself.”  He stroked Terry’s length, pulling a moan from the man’s throat in response. 

Terry lifted his head,  his storm-green eyes locking with Will’s, the blue now dark as night.  He took in the sight of Will’s flush-stained cheeks and kiss-swollen lips as they parted invitingly.  “Damn, boy…”  He sighed, crushing his lips to Will’s with renewed intensity.

The room was filled with heavy breathing and stifled moans, their bodies and hands working against each other without restraint, the moment fueled by that kink of being strangers, lost in want and need- to come, to make the other come first, to somehow be the winner in a game that the spoils would go to both, no matter what.

Will grasped Terry tightly around the shoulders with his one free arm, his hand moving in time with Terry’s thrusting hips.  He felt the rising tide, the heat rolling off his body in waves as he stiffened in Terry’s arms, poised on that brink as he struggled to breathe.

“Let me see you…”   Terry growled, sensing the tension in the smaller man’s body, his fist tightening around the aching cock in his hand.

He let his thumb glide over the dewy slit, stroking down hard as he felt the length harden to steel before the first pulse of orgasm rode up the thick column and erupted in creamy ribbons against Terry’s hand.  "Beautiful..."

Will struggled to keep hold of Terry as he was lost himself to the pleasure, but somehow he still registered the wet heat on his fingers as Terry came loudly, collapsing against him.

Will was thankful for Terry’s weight, it held him up when his knees would have given way as they both struggled to catch their breath.

Time ticking by, the fervor of those moments slowly began to ebb, the delicious languor of after-glow filling in around the silence of the room.

Will felt Terry shaking against him and he rolled his head against the wall to crack an eye open to look down at the man buried in his neck.

Terry was laughing and Will was not immune to the contagion.

“Don’t laugh…I still think you’re an ass.”  Will teased, ruffling his thick hair.

“I wish you could have seen your face when you opened that door.”

Will couldn’t help but smile lazily.  “Can you blame me?  It’s not every night your boyfriend shows up in ‘disguise’.”

John laughed heartily at that.  “And, it’s not every night your boyfriend turns 30 and acts like a complete slut.”

Will pouted beautifully and John couldn’t help but kiss those sweet, full lips again.

“Happy birthday, baby.”


Please check out the blogs of the other Story Orgy members:

The Story Orgy

Monday, January 17, 2011

Story Orgy

Monday.  Monday...blablabla...not!

Today is the birthday of the Story Orgy.  A group of like-minded writers, led by the Goddess, Em Woods, and including Lee Brazil, Havan Fellows and Hank Edwards.   We will be posting short stories to our blogs, every Monday.  Given a prompt- a sentence, an image, a thought- we all take that prompt, add a little pizazz, a dash of sumpin' sumpin'...and voila! You get five very different, terrifically tantalizing's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of tastiness.

(Pssst...I still can't believe I am part of it, but whoa! Here I am!)

To find the other outstanding stories for this week, please click on their names to be magically transported to their sites filled to the brim with goodness.

This week's prompt:

He'd never been in the bathroom before.  As he turned on the hot water to wash his hands, the mirror, which was prone to fogging, fogged.  And, he saw what was written there.

Photo Inspiration by Jade Baiser:

The Story Orgy

Wednesday, January 12, 2011


So...great happy happy joy joy for once for me on here!  I am beyond excited about what's up. become part of a writing group...a 'story orgy' if you will.  I have to admit, I kind of elbowed my way in...took the initiative...but the AMAZING thing is, they let me. : )  So, on Mondays, I will be posting short stories, along with four others that will be linked from here, for all to enjoy.

But, you know what?  I am scared shitless.  These people...these four other writers...are the REAL deal.  I am a nobody in this company, which is why I am completely skunnered and blown away that they would deem me worthy to play in their sandbox.

Em, Lee, Havan and Hank...I am so very grateful for the opportunity and just want to say thank you so much.  I promise to try my best to not let you guys down.

And, yes....I am completely *squeeeee*ing and very nearly pissing my pants.  Eeep.

Happy happy HumpDay!!!!!!

Monday, January 10, 2011


Once again, we are snowed in.  The power has been off for several hours already this morning, and the kids are home from school.

It's beautiful and they are beginning to compare it to the blizzard we got here in the early 90's.  Everything is covered in white, there is no one out, the quiet is it's own separate kind of beauty.  Going to be making snow cream soon for the kids and maybe a little sledding later in the afternoon...well, no sledding for me...broke my foot doing that with the snow we got on Christmas, but I think I could manage to throw a snowball or two.  I don't remember my parents ever playing with me and my brother in the snow.  Think it's kind of nice to have that with my kids now.

I am updating the story I have posted here, a little every day or so.  You can click the link at the top of the page if you want to have a look at it.  It's more than 100k words, so it's a bitch to get formatted to get on here.  So, I am trying to get it all here, and I will try to keep updated when new bits go up.

Enjoy your Monday!

Sunday, January 9, 2011

From Russia with Love...

 I just ran across this set of photos and thought they were beautiful.  Russian models by Russian photographer Alex Bego.


Words of Wisdom

I had a nice little chat with a friend last night, and once again...I am blown away. 

He gave me some very useful advice (he's really good that way...much wiser than his old soul), but I was just struck dumb by his continued selflessness.  He is happy to give without thought of ever getting anything in return.  Who does that?  It is a rare thing in this day and age...but it inspired me. 

He inspires me.  He always has and I think he knows that. :)  

So, I am taking his advice to heart, and going to make something good come of it...I hope.

And, along the way, I hope to be a little more like him.

Have a good Sunday. :)

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Snow Day...

The snowiest winter in over 30 years.

That's our local news headline, like a broken record.  Seems everyday, a new storm front is heading our way.  It's beautiful, I have to admit that.  My tiny little farmhouse, perched on it's hill, looks picturesque amidst the snow-laden mature oaks and pecan and pear trees.  The multitude of birds gathered around our many feeders, fighting off the squirrels that vie for the bits thrown to the the ground.  A majestic white-tail buck walks through with his little harem of no less than six doe at any given time of the day...yes, it's winter's beauty at it's finest.

It's just so cold.  Brrrr...I can't handle it, At. All.  The blood thinners I take make me freeze in the summer, so you can imagine how it is for me now.  I look like an Eskimo all the time.  Sleeping in sweats and socks and a hat's actually kind of funny.

So, yes, it snowed again yesterday.  Big, fat white flakes that looked like feathers or cottonballs falling from teh sky.  We got several inches but luckily, it was a wet snow, and didn't cause any problems on the roads, so the kiddoes made it to school.  Yay!  I love my babies, I do, but yesterday was their first day back after a two and a half week Christmas break...we were all getting a little stir crazy and I was not looking forward to them being here today.

Bad mommy. :(

My grandmother is still in the hospital, recovering from her stroke.  She is 88 and has been in good health until the past few months.  Just really seeing her go downhill pretty quickly.  But, maybe that is a blessing.  No one wants to suffer, especially at that age.   But, she comes from good stock...the women on that side of the family are long-lived.  Who can know.

Me?  I just keep swimming.  I am keeping it together as best I can, I have taken to meditating and it really makes a difference.  I am taking less pain medicine during the day, so that is a good thing.  The past week has been productive, creatively at least.  I have started writing again.  Sometimes I wonder why I do, it's not like anyone is ever really going to see it, maybe a few friends, if they have the time or the inclination, but I have no faith that it's even any good.  Definitely aren't looking at a career with it or anything.  But, it makes me happy, I have all these little thoughts and's just nice to watch them appear on the page...maybe it'll be something someone will look at when I am gone.  Or, not...maybe it's not something I would want anyone to know about to begin with. LOL

I am posting some here, there is a little tab at the top of the page in case anyone wants a gander.

Happy Thursday, everyone!

Monday, January 3, 2011

Mondays...who needs 'em?

This was definitely a day that would have better served me to stay in bed.  Mondays are bad enough all on their little own, but to compound their generally bad reputation by visiting the doctor?  That is just a wrong idea all the way around.  Oh, yeah, furthermore, it's the first Monday of a brand new year!  WTF was I thinking????


So, as you may have surmised....nothing good came from this doctor's visit, but I am not surprised there.  This wasn't a 'routine' exam with my GP but a sit down with the uber scary Nephrologist...yeah, those are soooo much fun.  Not.

But nothing he said was a surprise to me, but what is surprising is how I reacted...I came unglued.  I think it all just sort of hit me,  and maybe I am just a bit hormonal, too...who can know?  Sigh.

It was a gut punch, plain and simple.  And, though I have managed to halt the waterworks and stop with the full-body shakes, I am still a little frayed around the edges.  There are a million things I should be house (though I can still use the foot as an excuse on that one, thankfully), I could be researching, or writing, I have something I have been dying to read for the past couple of days...but I just can't focus on anything.  All I have managed to do since I got home, is lie in bed with the kiddoes, and watch cartoons.

I haven't told anyone here what the doc said....haven't told anyone, and I'm not going to's just too fresh and raw and I just don't have the energy to deal with everyone else getting all upset.  That's the hardest part of all of upsetting it is to the people I know.  I NEVER want to hurt anyone, but it seems the more they know the more hurt they are...that's why I keep it all in.   I don't let anyone know when I am hurting, I don't complain about how sick the meds make me, I don't let them see what a struggle it is just to get out of bed on a daily basis.  It just seems to be the most humane thing to do.  There is nothing they can do to help me, so it isn't fair to make them worry unnecessarily. 

Yeah...Mondays just suck, so I think we need a little diversion.......

Sigh...I do love the lovelies.

I feel better already. : )

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Better Late than Never....

I meant to post this yesterday...but time just got away from me.  Well, truth be told, I forgot to post it.  I had this grand idea of making my 2011 come in like a lion, but...we see how that went.

But, I love this song and so I want to share it here....

Happy 2011!!!!