AHOY!!

Now then me hearties.

 

Are ye in th’ way o’ knowin’ what a Pirate’s favourite music is?

 

*Ahem*

 

What else could it be but…

 

Aaaaarrrrrrrrr-d rock.

 

*slowly polishing my battered halo*

Doorways

It was me and two of my friends and we were going into a room that’s hidden behind a false wall.

We were back there because I promised to show them a workroom I found after an earthquake hit Seattle in 2001 and after going into it that one time I never went back into it again.

Until today.

We took a flashlight and forced the door open and standing as close together we looked inside.

It was the same as when I looked into it just over seven years ago- the same coffee cup was still on the little shelf right by the door- the same cup in the same place where someone left it in the 1970’s.

And then I said, ” there’s a light switch here” …and I felt along the door frame and my friend reached over my shoulder and hit the switch and nothing happened.

” No here.” I said.

I hit the switch and a row of lights went on for few seconds and then went off and the little room was dark and my other friend said, ” Come on let’s go.”

I looked to where my friend was shining his light on the light switch.

From the pale stream of light from his flashlight you could see where the wires from the light switch had been corroded and completely pulled out of the wall.

And then the lights went out.

We backed up and out of the room and then my friend pulled the door shut and kicked it back into it’s frame. He tried to open it and it was jammed shut and my other friend said.

” We did NOT see that.”

But as we left the building the feeling I had the feeling that maybe we had let something out…and then tonight I saw this news article:

GRANTS PASS, Ore. – Scientists listening to underwater microphones have detected an unusual swarm of earthquakes off central Oregon, something that often happens before a volcanic eruption — except there are no volcanoes in the area.

Scientists don’t know exactly what the earthquakes mean, but they could be the result of molten rock rumbling away from the recognized earthquake faults off Oregon, said Robert Dziak, a geophysicist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and Oregon State University.

FULL STORY HERE

 

I don’t know why this bothers me…Seattle is a long ways from central Oregon…but it does.

 

A lot.

She Will Never Give You Up

a.m.m. 

Once I was sitting on a beach, late at night when a man walked by me and said, “It’s  dark down there ” and as he walked away from me I realized he had been looking to his left as he spoke…and from his left I thought I heard an answer

only

nobody was to his left …

except for the Ocean.

All these years later I’m glad for one thing…that I never got a good look at his face.

Strange things happen at Sea…This true story is one of them.

Crewman’s disappearance during rescue in Alaska unexplained

Story Updated: Mar 29, 2008 at 10:02 AM PDT

By JEANNETTE J. LEE, Associated Press Writer

ANCHORAGE, Alaska (AP) – As the fishing vessel Alaska Ranger sank to the bottom of the Bering Sea, crewman Byron Carrillo and 1st Assistant Engineer James Madruga struggled to stay afloat in the rough and frigid waves.With Carrillo drifting into hypothermic shock after nearly five hours, the arrival of a Coast Guard rescue helicopter was a blessing, Madruga said Friday. He told the rescue swimmer to “take Byron first” and watched the panicked crewman being loaded into a dangling basket.But when he reached the helicopter himself, Carrillo was nowhere to be seen

( full story HERE )

The Dancing Tree

a.m.m.

Sometimes on  my way to Whopperville ( that’s what I say when I’m working on a story…I’m heading out to Whopperville ) I’ve run across some true stories that haunt me-  they give me nightmares or creep me out for days.

At the moment I’m working on a story about a Hanging Tree and in my research I found out that the slang name for these trees were ” Dancing Trees “

I’ll let that visual sort of sink in there.

At first blush some of my friends with more refined literary tastes thought I was making a poetic gesture when I floated the first draft for this story out to them.

You can stop laughing now.

The image that came to my mind about Dancing Trees came to me one night and woke me from a dead sleep.

And there was nothing poetic about it.

I saw a group of people sitting under a large shady tree on a hot day  having a picnic. They were dressed in their best summer clothes and as they laughed softly and admired the beauty around them I knew they are blissfully ignorant to the fact that

…many years ago someone danced…

for their lives

right above t their heads

And when I looked up I could see…

they still were.

 

I found this article at BBC

It’s about a Hang Man’s Tree

That’s located in…

  Kings Mills, Wrexham Wales

Let The Danse Begin…

Hang Man’s tree

Last updated: 31 December 2007

Bernie Griffiths shares her experiences and spooky encounters at a local beauty spot known as ‘Biniki’ at Kings Mills, Wrexham, and the Hang Man’s tree.

 There is a mill by the river but to get to the really spooky part you have to walk under a bridge. It belongs to the National Trust. Anyway, by the bridge in Biniki there is a tree where events have occurred for centuries.

We normally go there during the summer months and sit on the side by what is called Hang Man’s tree for obvious reasons. There has always been a presence there and I can sense paranormal activity quite easily. That’s why everyone comes with me.

This one night though it got very scary indeed, so much so I told everybody to get up and make for the road. My niece, myself and my husband got across the bridge in time but as we turned to scream for the others they had been blocked off with what can only be described as a distorted shape of mist. It was just floating there and when they moved, it moved.

We screamed for them to run but it followed. They ran through the river but it didn’t cross. As we ran nearly a mile to get out of there it was on the other side of the river along side of us every inch of the way back to the mill where it stayed in the woods. Quite an experience.

I spoke to someone many weeks after that and I asked them when they were younger did they ever experience anything there. They described the same shape even though I had not mentioned it. We have been back there and it has happened a few more times at the same time around about 2.25am.

We have only ever managed to stay there once through the night. This is only one area that has activity. Coming back from there another night we couldn’t stay because it was getting a bit uneasy there. We started to walk back though and got out safe and sound.

However as we passed through the gates on the opposite side of the old mill me and my brother saw a man walking straight at us, we moved apart so he could pass between us. We said ‘hello’ to him but he ignored us.

Anyway we turned to make sure my husband was OK because he was straggling behind. As we turned the man just walked straight through him. I looked at my brother and he looked at me. My husband was oblivious to it all and said he saw no-one there. All I can say is there are many discssions about Biniki but you have to be there at the right time and the spirits seem to love being there when I am. 

King’s Mill Wrexham, Wales

LINK

LINK

Red’s On Her Soapbox

Aye, I know lads.  ‘Tis miserable to see so much o’  th’ grey skies.  It’s glad I was t’ note the passin’ o’ th’ Winter Solstice.

     Here now!!  The Solstices and Equinoxes are th’ oldest way o’ markin’ time.  Before we were writin’ wi’ normal letters, or even them fancy Hieroglyphs in Egypt we knew the way t’ mark the Passin’ O’ Th’ Seasons. 

If t’were evil, like the Witch Hunters say, then why were it Astrologers found the Christ babby and were callin’ Him the King O’ Kings?  Tell me that laddy!! Faiths are always takin’ over from the old ones all the time. 

Lookit Christianity, how many names are there for Christians?  Reformed Church of England, Catholic, Christian, Protestant, Lutheran, Mormon, Jehovah’s Witnesses, I could go on an’ on, but ye git th’ jist o’ what I’m sayin’. 

Th’ thing is, all the Christians believe the same thing, they jus’ celebrate it a wee different from each other.  They all worship the Same God, and Christ; and there’re good’uns and bad’uns in every faith. 

Why do I no call ‘em religions, ye ask?  I’ll tell ye why!!  A religion is summat ye’re willin’ t’kill fer, a faith is summat ye’re willin’ t’die fer.  An’ that’s bloomin true!!! 

An’ th’ colours of Man, that’s just a’cause o’ where they hail from.  We’re all the same under th’ skin.   Oh, aye, I’ve seen a body wi’ no skin on it, an’ I couldna tell ye if it were white, black, or any colour, even Tyrian Purple!! 

Me?  I’m surprised ye’ hadn’t already caught on t’ that!  Nay lads I’m not a Christian.  Ye act so surprised, why is that?? 

That’s what I been tryin’ t’ tell ye!!   Good don’ know colour, faith, or money; all it knows is what ye do.  The neasure o’ a man is the same; it has nowt to do wi’ anything but his deeds. 

Ye great silly lout!!  What?  Now ye’re all afeared o’ me?  How many voyages ha’ we sailed afore now??  How many o’ them voyages did ye have bad luck?  None!  Now, tell me this, how can I be bad luck if’n we’ve had nobbut good luck?? 

How do I know all o’ this?  What do ye see me doin’ when I’m not feedin’ or fixin’ ye?  Readin’, that’s what!!  Knowin’ how to read sets ye free in a way ye’ll nivver notice, but ye’ll feel it all th’ same. Aye!!  Now ye are understandin’ me! 

I’ll get down fro’ me soapbox now an’ wish everyone a Happy Christmas. a Joyous Kwanzaa, a Happy Hanukah, th’ best o’ yer Ramadan, a wonderful Solstice, an’ any other Holy days that I haven’t yet learned aboot. 

Amen, Namaste, and Blessed Be. 

Of Ships and Dreams

Just Me

sands ease beneath my wave brushed prancing toes,
scarcely an anchor for hopes and dreams;
but here the clear stream meets the turgid sea –
as do I.

a wounded bird or puff of thistle down
winks and flutters past strained vision;
but distance has no reins on horizon,
nor do I.

A ship! a sailing ship! heaving outward,
billowing clouds for luft and prayer;
but guided by tiller of another’s claim,
as am I.

I gift a sigh upon the scented breeze,
a faerie song – a mystic chant perhaps;
that my presence will affect its course –
as will I.

faucon

Since Traveler Asked

PARROT PIE

An Australian Recipe found by faucon

Yield: 12 Servings
12 Parakeets *
6 Thin slices of lean beef, 4
4 Rashers of bacon, 3
3 Hard-boiled eggs
½ ts Finely chopped parsley
¼ ts Dried parsley
Finely grated lemon peel
Salt & pepper
Puff paste
Flour

* Parakeets are a small, long-tailed tropical parrot.

Method: Prepare the birds, and truss them like a quail or any other small bird. Line a pie-dish with the beef, over it place 6 of the paraquets, intersperse slices of egg, parsley and lemon-rind, dredge lightly with flour, and season with salt and pepper. Cover with the bacon cut into strips, lay the rest of the birds on the top, intersperse slices of egg, season with salt and pepper, and sprinkle with parsley and lemon-rind as before; three-quarter fill the dish with cold water, cover with puff-paste, and bake in a quick oven. Time: About 2-1/2 hours. SUFFICIENT for about 12 persons.

From Mrs. Beeton’s All About Cookery, Ward, Lock & Co., Limited, date unknown.

Potted Parrot

suspicions confirmed …

here is a recipe for a POTTED PARROT

2 ounces orange juice
1 ounce lemon juice
1/2 ounce orgeat syrup
1/2 ounce rock candy syrup
1/2 ounce orange Curacao
2 ounces light rum

shake well with shaved ice and serve
in a 16 oz glass with a sprig of mint

papa (once a bartender too)

Must be a Parrot

I stand against the balustrade
to face the salt-winds of torment,
and whisper questions oft unsaid
to be carried to distant lands.

“Where do the colors go,
when the sunset fades away?”

and I hear an echo: “when fade away”

“When dolphin chase the flickering moon,
why do I watch in longing?”

echo’s refrain: “chase in longing”

“When twilight hush meets laughing waves,
why do I cherish thee ever more?”

echo: “hush the waves of cherish”

“When I can sense every soul nearby.
but cannot find myself at all –
why do I stare at the endless sea?”

echo ever: “endless ever near”

papa faucon

Call of the Sea

I sit upon a barrel near Monica’s cabin,
and am lashed to the embattled railing
to weather this storm of twilight rush.

I reach out and in to enfold
place and time in gentle wings –
and find my musings matched somewhat
by the faint whispers of a lute,
and a song of the sea –
Goddess Sea of our birth.

……………………………………….

There is something of the dance, methinks,
in the rolling of the deck aship
to the rhythm of the roiling sea
and the drumbeat of sharp darkened tears.

“For you should know
that each moist drop
tries to run free
to Goddess sea
in rebirth’s claim.”

Aye, I hear a song of Everby.
in the flap of sail and strum of line
pulled taut as heartstrings overwrought
be mem’ries of friends and lovers lost.

“Come ever soft
as silent rain
and white kisses
on the foam
in rebirth’s claim.”

There is nothing between me and She
save rotting planks and call of quest –
that define both myself and this ark
to skip the waves of adversity.

“Home to the Sea,
to rest at last,
to seed the rain
and cliam rebirth
as prayer of love.”

faucon