May 2006
Live Fast
One of our young Village beauties crashed her car recently and is in the hospital paralyzed.
So please keep her in your prayers everyone.
And don't forget the sick and afflicted in your own circle of family, friends and acquaintances where ever you are.
theBoy's gotta eat!!
I am pleased to say that I have steady work here in Anchorage.
I had found a place to live and then went looking for employment and I succeeded.
I'm even on Food Stamps!! and my how times have changed.
Because instead of those cute little "check-sized" coupon books, I was issued a plastic debit card from theState. And my PIN # arrived days later from Florida.
In another paycheck or two I will be on my own, capable of feeding myself and buying my own monthly bus pass, as theState issued me a One Month pass for May.
I type on my laptop at theApt after hours and I scribble notes in my writing pads now and then.
Writing, writing, just writing and then organizing my work.
I will start to mix material, add dialogue, etc etc. Just Like those cheesy novels and good books do.
Except that my Characters won't "Rasp" or "throatily" spout, quip or utter any thing.
They'll just speak, say, shout etc.
I love the verbiage in some books I look at.
It's not enough to say that "I fed the dogs and cats today".
Instead, I must write.
Broth and bullion bubbled merrily in the old worn 2 gallon pot next to the wood stove. Simmering and stewing like Village affairs under pressure of the fire.
My fingers ached and stung with invisible splinters from the 6 logs culled from the massive wood pile outside. Angry pain, like tiny hornets stung from their winter slumber in the wood pile.
The sweet aroma of left-over Caribou leg and steamy day old Rice reminded me to add water to the pot. I looked down at the Crook of my arm and considered adding sweeter meats.
Tiny black eyes bored holes into my conscience as I held the tiny pup close, it was safely tucked inside my blue plaid shirt and squealed and grunted as if reading my thoughts.
Soon the pup would imprint upon me as easy as the plaid shirt I wore.
Was the Pup aware of the presence of a long deceased Granma of mine that used to prepare fires and pots such as I now tended-only to consume a fatted puppy from her canine yard?
Probably, as dogs no doubt, can see spiritual things that we humans can only sense.
I could sense an old Crone prodding me to toss more salt and more turnips to the pot.
When Granma was alive, I would watch from the cradle and see her hooked fingers and sinewy hands expertly slice onions and carefully measure seasonings out.
I could see a pink tongue flicker hungrily and hear her foot stamp impatiently.
Looking out the house window, I could see that the stamping sound was one of the neighbors horses munching grain.
"not today.." I cooed to the little wiggling bundle.
etc. I need to write just like that and even better.
Anchorage is a nice small city.
And I live in Mtn View damn it!! And it's not so bad.
And in theDowntown area already I see droves and flocks of Silver-haired old people wandering around theCity in a daze.
They have that "fleece me now!!" look and "where am I??" gaze when they ask me for directions.
Well.
I have to catch a bus back home to theApt and then bus to work.
No matter our physical state, we all must live.
Learn, grow, serve others and be happy that we are where we are in life and accept the trials and burdens not only of self-but of others.
till next time.
theSam!!
One of our young Village beauties crashed her car recently and is in the hospital paralyzed.
So please keep her in your prayers everyone.
And don't forget the sick and afflicted in your own circle of family, friends and acquaintances where ever you are.
theBoy's gotta eat!!
I am pleased to say that I have steady work here in Anchorage.
I had found a place to live and then went looking for employment and I succeeded.
I'm even on Food Stamps!! and my how times have changed.
Because instead of those cute little "check-sized" coupon books, I was issued a plastic debit card from theState. And my PIN # arrived days later from Florida.
In another paycheck or two I will be on my own, capable of feeding myself and buying my own monthly bus pass, as theState issued me a One Month pass for May.
I type on my laptop at theApt after hours and I scribble notes in my writing pads now and then.
Writing, writing, just writing and then organizing my work.
I will start to mix material, add dialogue, etc etc. Just Like those cheesy novels and good books do.
Except that my Characters won't "Rasp" or "throatily" spout, quip or utter any thing.
They'll just speak, say, shout etc.
I love the verbiage in some books I look at.
It's not enough to say that "I fed the dogs and cats today".
Instead, I must write.
Broth and bullion bubbled merrily in the old worn 2 gallon pot next to the wood stove. Simmering and stewing like Village affairs under pressure of the fire.
My fingers ached and stung with invisible splinters from the 6 logs culled from the massive wood pile outside. Angry pain, like tiny hornets stung from their winter slumber in the wood pile.
The sweet aroma of left-over Caribou leg and steamy day old Rice reminded me to add water to the pot. I looked down at the Crook of my arm and considered adding sweeter meats.
Tiny black eyes bored holes into my conscience as I held the tiny pup close, it was safely tucked inside my blue plaid shirt and squealed and grunted as if reading my thoughts.
Soon the pup would imprint upon me as easy as the plaid shirt I wore.
Was the Pup aware of the presence of a long deceased Granma of mine that used to prepare fires and pots such as I now tended-only to consume a fatted puppy from her canine yard?
Probably, as dogs no doubt, can see spiritual things that we humans can only sense.
I could sense an old Crone prodding me to toss more salt and more turnips to the pot.
When Granma was alive, I would watch from the cradle and see her hooked fingers and sinewy hands expertly slice onions and carefully measure seasonings out.
I could see a pink tongue flicker hungrily and hear her foot stamp impatiently.
Looking out the house window, I could see that the stamping sound was one of the neighbors horses munching grain.
"not today.." I cooed to the little wiggling bundle.
etc. I need to write just like that and even better.
Anchorage is a nice small city.
And I live in Mtn View damn it!! And it's not so bad.
And in theDowntown area already I see droves and flocks of Silver-haired old people wandering around theCity in a daze.
They have that "fleece me now!!" look and "where am I??" gaze when they ask me for directions.
Well.
I have to catch a bus back home to theApt and then bus to work.
No matter our physical state, we all must live.
Learn, grow, serve others and be happy that we are where we are in life and accept the trials and burdens not only of self-but of others.
till next time.
theSam!!
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