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Monday, August 14, 2017


I can't get past what happened this weekend and the fact that Nazis are thriving in our country. This is a dystopian novel we're living in. But while we're still able to access fun memories, entertainment and fiction, that's where you'll find me. We must hold onto, and recall to ourselves, the good stuff in life.

Last night Aunt Nancy (of the Ashram and Muffinpants family fame) and I had eats and got ready to watch Game of Thrones with Paul. We talked about what risky fun we had as little kids because our parents were busy and not keeping us wrapped in cotton batting. Sledding and biking were our top dangerous activities, and also such happy memories, despite injuries. Nancy told how she once tobogganed home down an unused road in the pitch dark, which was joyful and terrifying in a way only a 9 year-old could appreciate. And then I told her about Twiss Hill.

When I was a toddler, we lived in a small town in upstate NY. Our house was up on a hill with a lazy slope to a dirt road. Across the road were some houses, spaced widely apart. It dropped off pretty sharply there, and the houses were built into the side of the hill. Old Man Twiss (must be somehow related to Stevil) had a big parcel of land around his house right across the road from us. Every January he trudged down his hill creating a curving path. It began by the back of his garage, with a steep drop, and wound around a couple pine trees before hitting the cleared hillside. When he was done he went home and waited a day. Then he scooted down that path on a saucer, packing the snow and creating a sled run. For the finishing touch, he'd run his hose out and water down the whole thing. It was solid ice. A luge run of several hundred feet. I only remember doing it once. But that memory!

Billy and me. The Flexible Flyer. He's 10 or 11, I'm about 2, but tall. Old Man Twiss didn't stop me (which feeds the theory that he did this every year hoping to thin the herd- the run ended on Old Route 17, a highway), so Billy sat with his feet on the steering bar and I climbed in and sat between his legs. I grabbed his legs to hang on for dear life and off we went. I'm pretty sure I screamed the whole way, a crazy laughing shreik. Sandy snow hit us in the face, we were going too fast to see anything but the run, and it was suddenly over as we slowed on the salted slush along the side of the highway. Sheer joy.

Hold onto the crazy laughing moments. They're what makes the rest worth doing.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Forgive Me Bloggers, For I Have Wind

It's been almost 4 MONTHS since I have blogged. How did that happen?!!

Well, first I have ongoing hand issues. Typing with 3 fingers is a bother. My friend Sharon gifted me with a Dragon system, but I've yet to conquer it. There will be no medical correction of the hand issues and it's long and boring to explain. So there's that. Then I was feeling like I had nothing left to say. How much can you go over the same shit that's on everybody's mind when you've said it a hundred times? I'm active on Fecebook, which keeps me in touch with family and friends, and whatever news of the day goes on. It saves a lot of typing.

But there's also been events and projects taking my time and energy. The happiest by far has been the filming of the Herman movie, which is, despite catastrophes, in production at last!

Andy Slade (producer and director), with his crew, drove across the country interviewing all the characters who knew and worked with Herman. When we filmed here in my little apartment, it was an all day affair and exhausting as well as magickal. I hadn't seen him since 1991; he's not the skinny kid with a great mop of hair anymore. It was joy to be with him. We're hoping this will be done and released next year, and maybe will make it to Netflix. Fingers crossed. Those on FB can follow its progress here:
Horrible Herman's Warlock Shop Film

Beest has had health problems that for now seem managed.
Billy has also been up and down, and is now going through withdrawal from Lyrica. The down side is the nerve jumps. The upside is he's lost the edema and his blood sugar has steadied. Everything we take has effects. He wants to cut down the number of drugs he takes, as he thinks most do little to nothing anymore and he's spending some $700 a month on scripts. It doesn't look like he'll be moving here. His depression is lifting slowly, but his body is falling apart faster. It's hard to clean out a house you've lived in for 23 years, especially doing it with no help. But he's also stubborn about accepting help. The last time he dumped the motorcycle, in December, he broke his ankle. Refusing to go to the Dr about it, he walked on it for 7 months before it was x-rayed. That, in a nutshell, is my brother.

In 2 months I'll have been in this new abode for a year. I really like it here. The view from my windows is lovely in every season, and I'm looking forward to the Fall with cooler, drier weather (I hope).

Greg Lake's autobio finally published this Summer. Bittersweet and classy, it's quite a read.  

Aside from all that, we're in the penultimate year of the Game of Thrones tv series, and Sunday nights mean gatherings of friends here to eat, drink and yell at the screen. It'll be sad when it's over, but we still have 2 more books to go...

The state of the world is abysmal. Cheeto Von Tweeto is no saner than King Joffrey. The 'Small Folk' suffer, as ever. Be kind, find humor, stay sturdy and full of hope.