There was an island north of Scotland that would crown the girl with the purest heart their Winter Princess and send her off to The Dragon Of The Hill.
That’s what they called The Mother Superior in the church’s school, and she’d welcome the girl into the convent and the other Sisters Of Mercy.
Some became nurses in the hospital.
Others became teachers in the school.
And one or two were groomed to become the next Dragon Of The Hill.
Today, the island is quiet, and one final Dragon watches the snow outside her window, waiting… watching, praying silent prayers.
Tag: personal
Sleep on the couch
Ever get in a fight and have to sleep on the couch?
Yeah, it happens all the time to me.
But it’s not my fault. Really.
There I am, in bed, minding my own business, and a fight breaks out.
It wasn’t me. I didn’t start it.
But I get dragged into it, and the next thing I know, I’m having to sleep on the couch.
Isn’t the bed big enough?
Did I snore or cut a really bad fart?
No.
I wish the damn cats would get along and stop fighting on the bed while I’m trying to sleep.
Thank goodness for the dust
Ashes in small velvet bags, lined up on a shelf.
Some candles. Other trinkets. Favorite toys.
Their last collars.
It used to be that I could walk past that shelf without reaching up, smiling, and saying “I miss you.”
From tears… to a smile… now I just walk past, barely notice as I’m vacuuming.
Dusting makes me lift each object, each treasure, wipe the dust from underneath.
This was her collar, stars and moons.
This was his catnip rainbow.
This was the candle she burnt her whiskers on.
Spray a cloth, wipe. Reflect and remember.
Thank goodness for the dust.
Fluffyboy
My cat has a boyfriend.
He’s a fluffy grey and brown seal-point.
And he’s friendly. He rubbed against my leg and let me pet him.
I said “Hi, Fluffyboy.”
And he looked up and meowed.
“Is that your name? Fluffy?”
No reaction.
“Boy?”
He meowed again.
I met his owner, and yes, his name is Boy.
And my cat goes to visit him at their place now and then.
Now, when the back door is open, Boy will come visit, have some kibble, use a litterbox, and meow once.
Myst follows him outside, and they go play in the dirt.
Acquired Distaste
When I was young, I loved cottage cheese.
I’d put onion flakes and dill on it for flavor, but I didn’t mind it straight from the container.
It also didn’t matter if it was small curd or large curd. I liked them both.
Over time, I ate less and less of it, until I found myself forgetting the last time I’d had it.
So, I picked up a small container of the small curd stuff.
It was disgusting.
I tried different brands, but those also tasted lumpy and gross.
Onion flakes. Dill. A bed of lettuce.
Nope. Still tastes awful.
Into The Sunset
When my mother had surgery for a kidney tumor, dad and I sat in a large waiting room.
Well, I sat. He paced around. Or napped.
The chairs were comfortable, but couldn’t be moved. And the arm rests made it impossible to sleep across them.
There was no receptionist. Maybe if I grabbed her chair…
Dad got it, propped his feet up.
Stuck his tongue out at me.
The wall had a long mural, starting from a sunrise where children ran out and played, progressively getting older, until old people walked into the sunset.
Where the bathrooms were, of course.
Tom
A Bucket List is a list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket.
I’ve crossed off a few things so far, like “Kiss The Pope’s Ring” and “Invent Something Useful.”
But there’s some other things there like “Ask Tom Selleck why he didn’t have his trademark mustache in the film In & Out.”
So, when I saw he was on Twitter, I asked him.
And he answered. The producers didn’t think it was in character for the role.
I thank him, scratch that item from the list, and I’ll cross off “Write a silly story” too.
Potluck
It’s the holidays, but when you’re “essential staff” where I work, you don’t get those off.
Instead, you’re required to burn a paid day off or come in, which sucks, even when you get double pittance (oops, I mean double pay) for doing so.
So, we have potluck lunches, and everybody’s supposed to bring in a dish.
Nobody signed up, though, so the night before, management announced that participation was now mandatory.
Whatever, grumbled the team.
The next day, the break room was stacked high with the twenty last-minute tubs of potato salad they’d bought.
Who wants to order pizza?
Down the drain
You look tired.
Let me tell you a secret.
Some people wake up to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee, but caffeine is a drug and that just gets you wired for an hour.
I was late when my coffee machine broke, so while I was showering, I peed in the drain.
It takes a few seconds for the smell to hit your nose, but when it does, it sure as heck wakes you up.
Yeah, no matter how good your aim is, you still need to wash the tub down.
At least you’re awake.
(Just don’t take a shit, okay?)
Smash And Grab
My car was broken into.
Someone smashed the window and grabbed my backgammon set.
Why? It was only ten bucks at Wal-Mart. And they left my GPS, which is worth way more.
I mean, I understand leaving the radio. That’s bolted, secured, and a pain to steal. But taking a cheap backgammon case? Crazy.
The insurance company wants a police report. The police are busy and say “Use the app.”
I snap some photos, tap in a form, and email them.
A repair truck is dispatched. They fix the window and hand me a receipt.
I play backgammon online now.