twistedchick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
twistedchick) wrote2025-11-07 02:36 pm
twistedchick) wrote2025-11-07 02:36 pmvery odd
Yesterday I was coming home from Laurel along Rt. 29 -- what you need to know is that I was moving toward the southwest -- and the sky was very clear but looked ... odd.
When I looked up at it, I could see five white slashes in the sky, what looked like contrails from jets -- but they didn't budge, and there were no planes on the front of them to make the slashes longer. The slashes curved downward, not what you expect with an airplane trail. The longest one was closer to me, and they got smaller moving away.
All perfectly parallel, all curving downward. All unmoving. They looked like claw marks on the sky from an enormous bear.
Those were on the left. On the right, a regular contrail indicated a plane heading toward one of the local airports, probably Dulles. I could see that trail growing longer, while the others didn't move.
After I got home, I checked the 'net to see if something up above the atmosphere had broken, like a satellite, and was falling down, but didn't find anything.
It was still so weird.
And this was on my mother's birthday. She would have been 111 this year if she were still alive. I miss her every day, though as I get older I get a longer view of her life, seeing how one thing and another influenced her, and how she managed.
But still. Bear claws.
When I looked up at it, I could see five white slashes in the sky, what looked like contrails from jets -- but they didn't budge, and there were no planes on the front of them to make the slashes longer. The slashes curved downward, not what you expect with an airplane trail. The longest one was closer to me, and they got smaller moving away.
All perfectly parallel, all curving downward. All unmoving. They looked like claw marks on the sky from an enormous bear.
Those were on the left. On the right, a regular contrail indicated a plane heading toward one of the local airports, probably Dulles. I could see that trail growing longer, while the others didn't move.
After I got home, I checked the 'net to see if something up above the atmosphere had broken, like a satellite, and was falling down, but didn't find anything.
It was still so weird.
And this was on my mother's birthday. She would have been 111 this year if she were still alive. I miss her every day, though as I get older I get a longer view of her life, seeing how one thing and another influenced her, and how she managed.
But still. Bear claws.
twistedchick (twistedchick) wrote2025-11-07 02:29 pm
twistedchick) wrote2025-11-07 02:29 pmLate but still trying.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The bones beneath the Earth cry out, and, more than that, the colonizers fear that they will. The hungry crowd the dumb supper table and, more than that, the greedy fear that they will. The chains of slaves clank in the graveyard and, more than that, the slavers fear that they will.
This is the cry that rends the veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The ancestors throb in our blood and the merchants of Lethe try to distract. Our raped grandmothers drag ragged nails across their cheeks and the armies wish that they wouldn’t. Under the earth, dead children scream for their fathers and Wall Street distracts us with sex and beer.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Owls hoot in the darkness and the guilty fear that wisdom. Bats flap against a dark Moon sky and the predators quiver in fear. The innocent of Salem jerk at the end of the rope and the church collects the money.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Samhain is how our ancestors paid for the right to be part of the cycle. Samhain is how they remembered the mighty dead, the miscarried child, the beloved ancestors. Samhain is how they built a bridge to the Isle of Apples, how they ate both the flower and the seed, how they saw a Spring at the end of Winter. May we have their courage.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
The cells of our bodies are a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
May it be so for you.
-- by Hecate Demeter
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The bones beneath the Earth cry out, and, more than that, the colonizers fear that they will. The hungry crowd the dumb supper table and, more than that, the greedy fear that they will. The chains of slaves clank in the graveyard and, more than that, the slavers fear that they will.
This is the cry that rends the veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
The ancestors throb in our blood and the merchants of Lethe try to distract. Our raped grandmothers drag ragged nails across their cheeks and the armies wish that they wouldn’t. Under the earth, dead children scream for their fathers and Wall Street distracts us with sex and beer.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Owls hoot in the darkness and the guilty fear that wisdom. Bats flap against a dark Moon sky and the predators quiver in fear. The innocent of Salem jerk at the end of the rope and the church collects the money.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
Samhain is how our ancestors paid for the right to be part of the cycle. Samhain is how they remembered the mighty dead, the miscarried child, the beloved ancestors. Samhain is how they built a bridge to the Isle of Apples, how they ate both the flower and the seed, how they saw a Spring at the end of Winter. May we have their courage.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
The cells of our bodies are a prayer for Resistance.
This is a prayer for Samhain; this is a prayer for Resistance.
This is the cry that rends the Veils; this is a prayer for Resistance.
Samhain is a dark festival, the feast of the dead, a crone’s picnic. Samhain is a Sabbat of Resistance.
May it be so for you.
-- by Hecate Demeter
twistedchick (twistedchick) wrote2025-11-06 04:15 pm
twistedchick) wrote2025-11-06 04:15 pmway better than expected
The last time I went to have my teeth cleaned, I had a terrible time. The hygienist wasn't available, so the main dentist in the practice did it and she was uptight and not willing to give me a break when I needed one -- at least not long enough for me to put in earplugs before she cranked up the drill mechanism (with a polisher on it) with that sound that goes through my head like someone shoving a sword into it and wiggling the sword. I drove home afterward with a splitting headache that lasted for hours.
Today, however, was unexpectedly better. I figured that I needed to account for all the terrible things on my chart from last time, so I told the hygienist and the assistant that I am a musician and have very sensitive ears -- and I showed them the enormous industrial-strength earplugs that I acquired when I worked in a factory decades ago. (I've worn them at rock concerts; they work very well.). So I put in the plugs, and things went well. I saw the main dentist's younger sister, also a dentist, who was way more laid back and friendly, who said my gums were "fabulous" (nobody's ever said that before) and told me to keep doing whatever I'm doing.
And afterward, because the assistant and hygienist were still asking if I was OK, I sang the old song "Peace of the river" for them, and now they're all sure I should have been on stage somewhere, even though I just told them that I used to sing for weddings. That's okay. If someone asks me to sing for a wedding these days, I'll go for something in a lower range than Barbra Streisand's 'Evergreen', which was what I sang at the last wedding I did, some years ago.
Anyway, I'm very relieved that I'm past that and it went so well, and now I don't have to go back till next May. Yay!
Today, however, was unexpectedly better. I figured that I needed to account for all the terrible things on my chart from last time, so I told the hygienist and the assistant that I am a musician and have very sensitive ears -- and I showed them the enormous industrial-strength earplugs that I acquired when I worked in a factory decades ago. (I've worn them at rock concerts; they work very well.). So I put in the plugs, and things went well. I saw the main dentist's younger sister, also a dentist, who was way more laid back and friendly, who said my gums were "fabulous" (nobody's ever said that before) and told me to keep doing whatever I'm doing.
And afterward, because the assistant and hygienist were still asking if I was OK, I sang the old song "Peace of the river" for them, and now they're all sure I should have been on stage somewhere, even though I just told them that I used to sing for weddings. That's okay. If someone asks me to sing for a wedding these days, I'll go for something in a lower range than Barbra Streisand's 'Evergreen', which was what I sang at the last wedding I did, some years ago.
Anyway, I'm very relieved that I'm past that and it went so well, and now I don't have to go back till next May. Yay!
twistedchick (twistedchick) wrote2025-11-04 08:53 pm
twistedchick) wrote2025-11-04 08:53 pm(no subject)
As a result of umpty years spinning yarn, I have a lot of it sitting in bags waiting for a project.
So, I'm looking for an extremely simple bulky-ish sweater that I can knit with whatever is at hand and reduce the stash a lot.
Suggestions, anyone? It's been so long since I knitted anything but socks that I'm not sure if I even have any patterns.
So, I'm looking for an extremely simple bulky-ish sweater that I can knit with whatever is at hand and reduce the stash a lot.
Suggestions, anyone? It's been so long since I knitted anything but socks that I'm not sure if I even have any patterns.
twistedchick (twistedchick) wrote2025-11-03 12:21 pm
twistedchick) wrote2025-11-03 12:21 pm(no subject)
I'm not sure how I'm feeling this morning.
We are waiting for an arborist and his crew to take down four trees, trim a fifth tree, and manage somehow to cut back some big vines that are hanging from other trees and look ugly. (I've cut the vines at the base; they're not alive, but just hanging there.)
One of the trees, a mimosa that hangs over the fussy neighbor's driveway, definitely has to go. The fussy neighbor is too lazy to get out a ladder and trim back whatever she wants on her side -- I'm saying lazy because she is three decades younger than I am and has a tall and able son and a tall and able husband. Together they should be able to trim back whatever they want... but no. She'd rather bitch at us about it than do it herself. I don't have a problem with that tree, which is split at the base and going in several directions, coming down.
But we're losing two beautiful wild cherry trees and half of the big magnolia tree because the branches lean over the house. The insurance company wants the roof clear of branches that might fall and damage something. The cherries lean over it from the back, the magnolia extends across it from the front. And there's an ash tree in back that is leaning, and has contracted emerald ash borer. It has to come out before it falls and hits our house or the friendly neighbors' house.
I love our trees, and we've lost so many in the last 33 years, especially the two big oaks. Now more are going down.
At least the weather is kind. The sun is out and the air is warmish.
And for the time being I'll stay here and read my Yuletide source and look for a story.
We are waiting for an arborist and his crew to take down four trees, trim a fifth tree, and manage somehow to cut back some big vines that are hanging from other trees and look ugly. (I've cut the vines at the base; they're not alive, but just hanging there.)
One of the trees, a mimosa that hangs over the fussy neighbor's driveway, definitely has to go. The fussy neighbor is too lazy to get out a ladder and trim back whatever she wants on her side -- I'm saying lazy because she is three decades younger than I am and has a tall and able son and a tall and able husband. Together they should be able to trim back whatever they want... but no. She'd rather bitch at us about it than do it herself. I don't have a problem with that tree, which is split at the base and going in several directions, coming down.
But we're losing two beautiful wild cherry trees and half of the big magnolia tree because the branches lean over the house. The insurance company wants the roof clear of branches that might fall and damage something. The cherries lean over it from the back, the magnolia extends across it from the front. And there's an ash tree in back that is leaning, and has contracted emerald ash borer. It has to come out before it falls and hits our house or the friendly neighbors' house.
I love our trees, and we've lost so many in the last 33 years, especially the two big oaks. Now more are going down.
At least the weather is kind. The sun is out and the air is warmish.
And for the time being I'll stay here and read my Yuletide source and look for a story.
twistedchick (twistedchick) wrote2025-11-03 12:50 am
twistedchick) wrote2025-11-03 12:50 am(no subject)
I've been watching 'The Graduate', the early-1970s movie.
It feels like a reconstruction of a lost culture at an archeological dig.
It feels like a reconstruction of a lost culture at an archeological dig.
fairestcat (fairestcat) wrote2025-10-29 05:16 pm
fairestcat) wrote2025-10-29 05:16 pmStuck in Paradise for the Foreseeable
So, as I mentioned in my Festivids letter, I am currently in Hawaii. Hilo to be specific. I have been here since October 10th and I genuinely have no idea when I'll get to go home.
My mother was diagnosed with congestive heart failure five years ago, but this fall she got significantly worse and also developed pneumonia. She was in the hospital for two and a half weeks and is now in a short-term rehab working on getting back her ability to do exciting things like walking across a room without getting shaky-legged and out of breath and using the bathroom unaided.
I'm in an itty bitty postage stamp sized airbnb room in Hilo, since my mom's place is a nearly two-hour drive away. I can't go home until we figure out what happens next for my mom. I don't think she can go back to the place she's been sharing with my sister. My sister is also disabled and not really able to help my mom with stuff, their tiny house is cramped and crowded, has built-in steps and is a constant tripping hazard, and honestly my mom and sister are driving each other completely mad.
Hawaii is beautiful and all, there are certainly worse places I could be stuck indefinitely, but I really want my own bed and my own spouses and my own pets and my own time zone.
My mother was diagnosed with congestive heart failure five years ago, but this fall she got significantly worse and also developed pneumonia. She was in the hospital for two and a half weeks and is now in a short-term rehab working on getting back her ability to do exciting things like walking across a room without getting shaky-legged and out of breath and using the bathroom unaided.
I'm in an itty bitty postage stamp sized airbnb room in Hilo, since my mom's place is a nearly two-hour drive away. I can't go home until we figure out what happens next for my mom. I don't think she can go back to the place she's been sharing with my sister. My sister is also disabled and not really able to help my mom with stuff, their tiny house is cramped and crowded, has built-in steps and is a constant tripping hazard, and honestly my mom and sister are driving each other completely mad.
Hawaii is beautiful and all, there are certainly worse places I could be stuck indefinitely, but I really want my own bed and my own spouses and my own pets and my own time zone.
amberleewriter (amberleewriter) wrote2025-10-27 11:46 am
amberleewriter) wrote2025-10-27 11:46 amEntry tags:
Ok, I said it.
My biggest existential concern on the political front right now has been voiced out loud to my partner. We are shockingly on the same concern page we just haven't been SAYING anything. So here it is: ( Read more... )
Is anybody else wondering these things? Is anyone making an evacuation plan? Is anyone downsizing and trying to figure this shit out because just wow. I don't like feeling like I am alarmist but ... just ... 0.o
Is anybody else wondering these things? Is anyone making an evacuation plan? Is anyone downsizing and trying to figure this shit out because just wow. I don't like feeling like I am alarmist but ... just ... 0.o