I'm back ... at least on a limited and temporary basis.
I wanted to take a moment to offer my sincerest appreciation to those that have been so supportive. Your whispered words, the long distant phone calls even when they were late at night, of concern, of encouragement, the simple "hang in there's" and the "miss you's" have kept me going. From the bottom of my heart ... Thank you.
A special gratitude to Ramza mun for his sympathetic patience. You are one of a kind, hon.
For those that aired their greivances loudly and publicly of how much time my character spends online, I'd like to say gracefully and elegantly ... I'm glad you missed me :actually thinking to self ... SOD OFF:. I'll be here when I be here. Count on it.
To each and every one, know that you are loved and adored. Never forget that.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
More from Nette mun
Thursday, July 10, 2008
From Mun of Nette
'Life's Journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, ' Ohhh... What a Ride!! '
She replied immediately with the following.
"These days I am all about smiles, bumps, laughs, giggles, scratches, tears from too many times down the slide with funny faces.
I have came to realize a few things,
one - life holds tons of laughter,
two- don't hold back, unless it will intentionally harm another,
three - this life is beautiful
I will slide in sideways, screaming wow that was great, I wanna do it again, I just hope others have had as much fun as I have, and to most people's dismay I do remember my age. And I do not care."
A simple request from all of you to please keep us in your positive thoughts.
Don't forget to hold a loved one close and tell them you love them. Love heals more than the most modern of medicines.
Thank You
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Thief
I never meant to be so bad to you
One thing I said that I would never do
One look from you and I would fall from grace
And that would wipe this smile right from my face
Do you remember when we used to dance
And incidence arose from circumstance
One thing lead to another we were young
And we would scream together songs unsung
It was the heat of the moment
Telling me what your heart meant
You cant concern yourself with bigger things
You catch the pearl and ride the dragons wings
~Asia
Monday, June 2, 2008
Still Life
In my spare time, I weave reed baskets and trade them here and there for small things. Its relaxing and gives my hands something to do while I sit on the platform of my wagon in the eves. Ramza usually trades for the majority of them though what he needs so many for I don't know. All I can say is I have plenty of meat, spices, a deep storage pit, my wagon stays painted and repairs are always seen to. You can bet I am always gathering reeds to make more baskets.
I will never forget the night I was settled in next to the fire at the Midnight wagons with a lap full of reeds, watching the sun set in all its wondrous hues. I'd been thinking of the past season and perhaps wallowing in my miseries when I felt a pair of hands grasp me up, dip me back with such graceful ease, one would have thought we were ballroom dancing. In my fury and half scared from my wits, wide eyed daze, I was staring up into the face of that same warrior .. who was looking down at me grinning. Before I could react much, he merely leaned in to drink full from a stolen kiss.
Did he think he could ... he could ... just touch me like that ... kiss me like that? Did he think there was any chance he would get away with it? I managed to wrestle enough from his half his grasp to catch up one of the copper pots near the fire and swung it right at that hard headed ... big bosk headed ... hard head. I scored well on that first strike. He simply took the pot from me with a casual ... ow ... that hurt. Incensed more than ever now, I started gathering whatever came to my grasp and began hurling them at my assailant. Every curse word I knew in three languages came hurtling with every throw while the man began weaving to dodge the onslaught. It just happened that with the last of my arsenal, I decided to throw left when Ramza darted right. The connection toppled him face forward with a crack in that thick skull of his.
He is such a jokester at times, I figured when he didn't get up it was just a lure to get me closer. Then I realized he wasn't joking. I grabbed my medical pack and raced back to see how bad the damage was. My heart nearly stopped when I saw the trickle of crimson marking a rivulet along the side of his face. So much for that promise never to draw blood from another Tribesman. I lifted his head to my lap, and began tending the wound and feeling really bad about having been the one to cause it. He opened his eyes with that same ear to ear grin and wrapped his arms about my waist. That merely got him a new swat and an admonishment to stay still. Two stitches later, all the man could say was ... 'You are beautiful'.
'Ah well You ... look like hell at the moment', was the retort I threw back at him, then slid from under his head letting it plop back to the dust with the sound of thumping a ripe melon and hearing a new howl of ... oww.
My rage, frustrations and admittedly now extremely confused emotions stormed my boot treads right up the wagon steps, carrying me under the flap to safety. I just stood there within the closure trying to catch my breath and maybe a bit of sanity. That will teach him. Yes, indeed, that will teach him won't it? I peeped back out to make sure he was gone except that ... he wasn't.
There he was still stretched out, lying right next to my fires with his boots crossed lazily and his hands tucked beneath his head, simply smiling at the stars. I couldn't help reaching up to touch the warmth I still felt at my lips. That was when he caught me staring at him and called out .. 'Dream of me tonight Nette'. I slapped that flap closed with a snap and a growl.
Did I mention he was a bosk headed ... stubborn ... bosk headed Tuchuk? Still !!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Hope
Heres to us one more toast and then well pay the bill
Deep inside both of us can feel the autumn chill
Birds of passage, you and me
We fly instinctively
When the summers over and the dark clouds hide the sun
Neither you nor Im to blame when all is said and done
In our lives we have walked some strange and lonely treks
Slightly worn but dignified and not too old for sex
Were still striving for the sky
No taste for humble pie
Thanks for all your generous love and thanks for all the fun
Neither you nor Im to blame when all is said and done
Its so strange when youre down and lying on the floor
How you rise, shake your head, get up and ask for more
Clear-headed and open-eyed
With nothing left untried
Standing calmly at the crossroads, no desire to run
Theres no hurry any more when all is said and done
~Abba
It was one of those lanquid days that naturally drew one to the stream. I'd been walking the banks letting my palm skim across the top of giani-tail willows simply to set them to motion. Apparently I was not the only one to take advantage of such a lure, I found Silken there perched on the bank fishing.
About the same time I started to speak she hooked an unusually large one that came sailing through the air to land smack dab in the middle of my chest. It made me all wriggly too, trying to get a good hold on the creature. Since the woman doesn't eat the watery beasts, we made a trade. Wily would clean and fillet the fish and bring them to exchange for vulo. My pens had become quite prolific. More than once I muttered in passing the feathered things telling them it was not fair they got more errrr 'excitement' than I did and they had multitudes of little feathered things to prove it.
I was pointing at her line where she got another bite while we talked and yes pointing is rude unless you're fishing, then it is mandatory if someone's line goes under. It surprised me that it was Shi that had to bring meat for Silk's wagons since she hadn't had time to hunt. I was glad he was looking after her though. I was glad to see the smiles nd the laughter from the healer as well. It had been far too long since I saw that beautiful face light up. Somewhere deep insde it seemed criminal that it was not always shining with happiness and the joys of life. Iffn ya don't laugh, ya cry. Those words hung in the air and I wanted so much to be able to pluck them out and crush them between my fingers so they would not hold any truth.
A shadow fell across the stream and when we looked up it was Seth riding in. His approach came with ten other men. Just one look said something was terribly amiss. Come .. Jort has fallen in battle. Word was sent to the camp of where we were going and Silk drew me up on the back of her mount. Enu hurried to gather medical packs and off into the horizon we rode as fast as we could.
The outpost was a scene of chaos that our arrival seemed apart and distant from. Fifty dead, one hundred wounded. I slid from the mount and began tending what wounds I could. The drawn look of grief I saw on faces everywhere was haunting to me though none of it seemed to touch my own soul. I knew none of these people except that some were of Tuchuk blood and that one among them had pulled Silk through many dangers. For that he had gained respect in having saved the friend I now stood beside .. a sister.
Flames from the pyres rose diminishing to plumes of smoke and I watched for a while. The fallen warrior's woman stood close to Seth and Silk and I couldn't help noticing .. how frail she seemed against the backdrop of the plains. Then .. Seth was gone. I think it was anger that he left as he did that kept my tongue silent on the ride back to camp. Right or wrong, it will be a long time before I forgive him. I knew Silk's silence came from the grief she herself would let no one see.
It was the quiet conversation on the steps of her wagon when we returned that I mulled over for a long while afterward. It takes a special kind of woman to survive here among the plains. Before I returned to my own wagon to wash up, I drew the woman into an embrace, perhaps because she needed it, perhaps because I did.
She is one of those special kind of women and knowing her gave me strength to be one as well.
When I rounded the end of the Midnight row ... Sage was standing there with Orachu. I lit up at first with excitement then screamed and sank to my knees with the weight of dispair. I was still whispering a mantra when he carried me into the wagon. Please dear skies let their be hope ... hope .... hope.
Full Circle
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
~No Doubt
It was simply one of those treks through the wagon rows from one point to another that I passed one of the year keepers. They are an amusing lot to me, so serious much of the time. Time. It is their pasion as kaiilas are mine. As if drawn from some deeply profound enlightenment he stopped long enough to study me, study my face, the lines that form along my mouth and the corners of my eyes as if he put the moment to memory. It caught me so off guard that I simply stood there for a few ehn before finally he spoke.
"It has been four full seasons" At first I was wondering what had been four full seasons and was still staring at the back of his head when he continued on where ever he had been going in the first place.
Then the whole notion caught up with me.
Enough OOC!
I have a great idea .. try something new .. just play.
~Red 6.13.8
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Close Your eyes
Are you goin to scarborough fair? parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine
Life had begun to feel like that comfortable feeling of settling into the saddle. The reins fit my hands as easily as those of my mounts and I felt as if I could point it in any direction I wished and simply take it where ever I wanted and truth is I did.
When I wasn't among those of the clan or the Midnight wagons, there wasn't that overwhelming feeling of being lonely even when I was by myself. I found I made pretty good company for me and of course for Sinewy too.
While Cana was away with the confinement of the new babe, she entrusted me with seeing to the herds. She'd made sure there were enough hands to help should any trouble arise so that I could relax in the task and take each day as it came. There were new births, training and breaking to tend to and something more as well .. a sense of confidence that lifted my shoulders tall and my head held proudly high.
Barhk, Duran, Sage and I were riding the outer perimeter of the herd late one eve, talking now and then but more just relishing the splendor of the sunset when we noticed a camp fire ahead of us. Barhk rode on, and of course Duran, who could smell paga in a sealed bota several pasangs away, reined in. I had to laugh watching as he made himself at home, eating whatever was sizzling in the flames and plucking a slave from her chores to warm his lap.
It was good to see Ramza though for a while I stayed in the saddle. I asked if he following me even though we were the ones that crashed his party. He just asked if I was going to remain up there on my mount or actually get down and enjoy the fire. I have to admit the warmth did beckon and I gave in to it. Although it had been a while since we'd seen each other, it was as if it had only been a day when we fell into the humorous banter and teasing. He spoke what was on my mind ... it was good to see an old friend.
While he tossed me a fur to wrap in, I promised to bring him a chest from the caravan to put his paints in. It was our thing I guess, trading baskets and chests. He did surprise me when he said he had been to my wagon to retouch the murial. For a long time I just looked at him, studying him and putting his features, his scars, his expressions by the light of the fire to memory. He had touched me by doing this for me.
We talked as we usually do, for ahns, until I grew sleepy. There didn't seem any threatening need to rise and ride back to the harigga and within the comforting safety I drifted off to dream. I think in a way all women, no matter how strong, or strong willed, find peace in knowing that there is someone that can and will protect her. That was how it felt at that moment. It was a different kind of contentment when I felt his touch brush the wisps off my forehead with a gentleness that spoke of caring. I knew somehow that all through the night .. he was right there, watching over me.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Insurmountable odds
To triumph over darkness, you must first stand against it. ~ unknown
Strange, the view from here
Words we spoke, forgotten at the time
Now replay in my mind
What went wrong, what was right
Looking back, I never was there for you
You didn't say, but I know it's true
I can't find the real world alone
Every time I think I've won
I hear your voice inside, questioning
Where have you gone
Can't you remember feeling so alone
You always had the anwer that I could not see
I can't find the real world alone
~Queensryche
Me too had become the constant shadow of his hero Rusty, so it was no surprise when he decided he would go with the drover scouting for wild stock. There was both amusement and bit of heartache when I offered a farewell embrace that he shrugged away from. My little boy was growing more and more into a man. The merriment was that I knew one day, the wrap of feminine arms wouldn't hold the same shun. I checked the packs over and went back to check them again and again. I didn't want them to go and this odd obsessive behaviour kept wanting to make sure they had everything they would need or find reason perhaps for them not to. I didn't watch them ride off along the lanes and out onto the plains. I couldn't, instead I busied myself among the pens.
The two foals that Holo had sired were coming along well. It would be up to Fonce to name them but the ebon male that had been born the night of the sleens, I tended to call Tsk. It would at least give a sound to training the creature to come when summoned. The coppery red sorrel somehow always answered to pssst ... of all things. I knew they could one day be mounts for the Ubar so they were never spoiled but their survival of insurmountable odds during their births and the travels along the trail gave them priviledge. I whispered across the grasses, a silent prayer that he be like those two young colts .. able to endure, live and thrive.
My own small herd was growing well. There was a dark roan male I had named Vareem and a blue gray female that was named Alta though she was affectionately called None, both given to me by Rusty. Alta .. aka None, just had an attitude about her that said .. don't start none and there won't be none. Later that nickname would be more apropo in trying to breed her. Key word there was .. trying. Legends say that the kaiila conceived of the high winds capture its speed. When I look at these two, I can imagine them racing across the prairie as sleek and as swift as the breeze itself.
I don't know if it was a gift gone wrong, a cruel jest or simply one of those "you ain't gonna believe this" circumstances but the beast that Vao had given me was one like I'd never encountered before. Talk about having a mind of one's own! I would look up expecting to see the blue gray male pawing at the ground, snuffing out something from a tuft of grass somewhere but the beast would just be gone. The first excursions of trying to find the missing animal would be searching out over the plains before I finally figured out, he thought he belonged among the Tribe. Wonder where he got those kinds of ideas? For the next hand or so, I would wander through the lines of wagons, looking down this row and peeping under that row yelling ... hey Yabbott!!!, only to find him at the main fires ... sitting on the gray furs as if he were the Ubar or having actually half climbed someone's wagon platform to munch dried herbs they had hanging. Good skies, I'd yank at his mane and try to drag him back down to the pens simply to look up and find him gone again. Oh just wait until Vao returns again. I've stacked a whole pile of copper pots up next to my wagon flap with his name on them.
Each day I watched for the return of our prodigal sons, with hope, with faith though dusk would eventually settle around my shoulders without them. Perhaps it was all merely dominoes stacked in lines and patience needed until they toppled back where they began.
Boreas and his brother winds were often imagined as horse-shaped gods. An old Greek folk belief was that the winds Boreas and Zephyros would sweep down upon the mares in early spring and fertilize them in the shape of wind-formed stallions. The horses born from these couplings were the swiftest and finest of their kind
~snagged without permission from Lubricious Cerebration. You want it back girl? Come get it muahhaha er I mean Thank You ravenmun
Friday, May 16, 2008
Surrendering
For winter's rains and ruins are over,
And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
-Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909),
When the Hounds of Spring
Are on Winter's Traces
Days became hands and hands became months. Time was passing us by. If there were any real need of evidence that this was true, one had only to look at the world around us. The warmth of the central fire and the gentle fall of rains had created green as far as the eye could see. It was hard to keep a firm grasp on anything but the beauty as the plains surrendered to the new season without effort.
I finally decided to plunder through a chest or two from the dwellers wagons. Strange how the materialistic nature of my father no longer touched me in any way. Nothing within the stores held much interest to me now until I came across a wooden salt mill. That was when Aiyana and Polunu came to mind. I missed her. I missed our moments of whimsy and my tangling pillage of her yarn baskets. Leaving the clutter without another thought I grasped the mill and a basket of eggs. I'd decided to go for a visit.
I'll admit I was somewhat disappointed not to catch a glimpse of the weaver but it was good to see the salt hunter and the girl blue with him. We spent a few ehn talking of how they had been and of course new promises to keep in touch. The warrior insisted that they were happy together and that was all that mattered.
I left with an odd contentment, beginning to sing one of those airy tunes that I'd long ago forgotten. Like the grasses of the plains, I think I was surrendering to simply enjoying the life I lived.
