Wishing you a safe New Year’s Eve. May 2019 be prosperous.
For the first time since I started the diverticulitis odyssey, my head is clear and my heart is pure. My stomach is itchy, foamy, and I am definitely not as strong as I was last week. However, I am here.
What I noticed with these antibiotics, especially the Cefuroxmine Axieth is that I had some very vivid dreams. That particular antibiotic took a lot of will power to keep down, plus put me to sleep almost immediately after taking. I will have to talk to my doctor about that one.
One dream was that my family, many who are dead now, were preparing an apartment for me. I was going stay with one of my sisters. I didn’t find it strange to see my grandfather and great-grandmother. Others looked like members of my family who are alive, but different in many ways. They even made sure that I would have a room that was high on a cliff and overlooked the ocean as it sprayed me. It was the happiest I had been since the death of my husband. I don’t know if I was that close to going or if it was wish fulfillment, but it was enjoyable and when my bladder woke me up, I tried to get back. It was a place to rest and relax.
The other dream was quite different. It was if I were the character Dussel and had eavesdropped on her life by being her. When I woke that time I wrote it down. I’ve looked back at it, and I will be writing it for a short story. It is a darker world, but Dussel is redeemed.
Here are a few of paragraphs:
When I first met Ariel, I was straddling across my father’s body with my hands wrapped around the wooden handle of a long butcher’s knife. I yelled, “Die, die, die” with the knife thrusts as it entered his chest.
When the Guardians pulled me off him, my face, hands, and flowered pink and white dress were covered in my father’s blood. I spit the blood out of my mouth. Murder wasn’t a sin in the half-hybrid lands of human and Fae, but patricide was.
I was a human-gnome hybrid and I could die much more easily than a full-blood Fae. I could tell from the way they held my arms to my back and bound me with silver and iron that they wanted to hang me right then and there or maybe they wanted to hang me in the town square. I wondered why they waited.
I have enough energy to finish today. Maybe. Normally I have been given gifts of poetry in full form. This is a first for a short story.
I have always said that writing is a calling for me. If I don’t write, I will tell stories in my dreams. If I do write, I can drain my brain swamp.
So last, but not least… in case I miss it–
Happy Holidays and Have a Prosperous New Year.
Saturday I was at my brother’s church for a pancake breakfast for Veterans. Better than the free breakfast was the opportunity to see my brother, sister-in-law and their two children–Christian and Victoria. Victoria is just a couple weeks away from a year old.
They do a simple ceremony with the boy scouts. It made me realize that it has been over twenty years since I was a member of the US Navy. Time flies so quickly and I wonder where it goes.
As a Veteran I want to thank those military members who have gone before and after me. Thank you for your service, brother. Thank you for your service, sister.
May you live long and happy lives.
For those who are not from the US– may you remember Armistice Day.
Happy 4th of July
In honor of the 4th of July— Hilda’s Inn for Retired Heroes will be free from July 3-5.
In Delhaven, there is an Inn run by a retired mercenary. If you are a down-on-your-luck mercenary or men-at-arms, come to the public rooms and Hilda Brant, the owner, will give you a bowl of stew. If you want ale, hand over the coins. Hilda may give you floor space, but she expects you to pay in favors or coins.