Ahoy! I be Ching Shih, th’ Mistress o’ th’ Seas. Jus’ address me as Mistress ‘n all will be well. I be joinin’ th’ ship as me own ship be borin’ me t’ tears ‘n yers looks t’ be much more fun.  where’s th’ spirits?

]]> http://calabar.wordpress.com/2008/11/20/a-little-something-for-am-for-l/feed/ 6 lorigloyd http://calabar.wordpress.com/2008/11/08/how-to-join-the-crew/ http://calabar.wordpress.com/2008/11/08/how-to-join-the-crew/#comments Sat, 08 Nov 2008 03:12:14 +0000 Anita Marie http://calabar.wordpress.com/?p=162 ]]>

To Join The Crew Of  The Calabar

you have to complete three tasks:

First Choose A Name for Yourself

HERE

Then choose yourself a Mascot – and write about it…or draw it…whatever…you’re Pirates I could set up rules but you wouldnt listen to them anyway

( Sea Monsters Love You! )

AND THE COOLEST TASK OF ALL

Create a Wanted Poster of yourself

and let the entire world know

who your Inner Pirate is.

And then- when you’re done

 sit in one of those chairs with wheels

…spin yourself around eight times….

and write about it.

Now…go do the Pirate thing

scoot scoot scoot!

Captain Anita Diabolitio

A Map

  A Date

A Treasure

We’re Pirates…

Just saying…

C.A.D.

Spotted the south end of a wombat sunny side up – must be AM’s green stuff again!

Happy birthday, Kezza!

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*

Aye.  The loon is who ye think it is wavin’ at us from dockside.

It’s…

The Punny Pirate!!!

Did ye hear aboot yon pirate movin’ ptcher?

It’s rated, “Arrrrrrrrrrr!”

Too late lads, she got us square amidships wi’ her newest turrible pun!!

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.

Is this the green stuff they keep talking about?

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like
a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

by John Masefield