Shaman Sense...sational!

The picture at spaceweather.com is the best I've seen by far:

spaceweather.com

Overheard conversation at local grocery store:

60-something Salvation Army bell ringer to his 60-something friend:
"See ya' later, buddy."

Friend's response:
"You betcha."

I smiled, imagining some of my UK Stargate fan friends overhearing such an exchange. Very fanfic Jack-like with that ol' "Yeahsureyoubetcha." Very Minnesotan. Parts of Michigan really are very like Minnesota. For one thing, we have enough lakes to also be classified as the "land of lakes." And then other parts of Michigan, like Detroit and some downriver areas are more reminiscent of the south.

I deal with offices in Kentucky, Tennessee and Ontario, but I find that my own speech patterns are more influenced by my Canadian colleagues than my southern ones. My nephews have caught me saying something closer to "aboot" than "about." And I can't help but say "project" with a long o now -- like in "program" -- despite my upbringing having a focus on a short o.

Linguistics is an interesting study.....

I've been wanting to have another long chat with my inner Blair about a lot of things, family things mostly. But my mind is still processing those things, and I found myself chatting about something completely unrelated. This time of year, the incident described below has a tendency to come back to me. Today, I found myself chatting about it with not just Blair, but Jim as well.... What follows is how it might have gone, had Blair actually been my heretofore unknown Good Samaritan....
========================================================

Chatting with My Inner Blair: On Good Samaritans and Sensing Evil


While it wasn't exactly a dark and stormy night, it was a dark, wet and chilly morning, the kind meant for sleeping in -- at least for the likes of Jim's dosing partner. The sun was still a long way from rising as Jim pulled his truck into the poorly lit parking lot of a diner just off the interstate. Reaching across the seat, he grabbed hold of Blair's shoulder and shook.

"Time to wake up," He said.

"What?" Blair asked groggily. "We there already?"

"Not by a long shot."

"Then why are we stopping?" Blair rubbed his eyes and worked out the kinks in his shoulders.

"I figured a little hot coffee would do us both some good."

"Oh."

Jim saw that his partner's attention had been drawn to a woman as they passed her in the parking lot. Through the darkness, Jim could see that she was shaking. Her arms were wrapped around herself as she padded cautiously around puddles, apparently not an easy thing to do wearing heels on the gravel covered and uneven ground. Although she was blonde, long-legged and slender, she was closer to Jim's age than Blair's.

"She's not exactly your type, Darwin."

"I know her." Blair said absently as Jim eased into a parking spot on the far side of the building.

"Oh?"

"I mean, I don't know her; but I should." Blair turned to him, confused. "At least I think I should. She just looks familiar."

"I'll bet."

"No, Jim. Not like that. I just...." Blair shrugged and stepped out of the truck. "It's more like deja-vu," He added as he followed Jim to where the woman had already disappeared through the diner's front door. "It's just ... seeing her walking like she was. You know, the cold, the dark. And speaking of the cold, can I ask you again why you chose this particular weekend for a fishing trip?"

( Read more... )

... for The Light My Fire Awards. So much to read, so little time....  http://lmfa.diagonalfiction.com/2009FinalBallot.php


I'm enjoying a deep dive into fic with these nominees. It's a past-due, long needed reprieve. 

I have been feeling another "Chat with my Inner Blair" coming on, but having trouble hearing him. Maybe this will help ... followed by another visit with Martin Prechtel.

I've been reading and reading and reading, and still lots more to read! Excellent stuff on the ballot this year -- as always. Sentinel fic writers are still going strong!

Read it all here: http://lmfa.diagonalfiction.com/2009FinalBallot.php

Voting ends on November 15 (I believe that's the date).

My life of late remains heavily -- well, can't think of the right descriptive word here, so I'll just say... my life of late remains heavy.
Full of family drama & family trauma. Mom & dad are both in Pennsylvania now. Friends and family all seem to need someone to blame. My husband and I, being the closest to the situation for the longest amount of time, are the easiest targets.

This brings me to my next subject: poetry.

I wrote 2 poems this week.

The first is a direct response to being the target. Titled "Family Crisis," it can be found here:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=18919&id=266252

The second is to my sister, to whom I sent the first along with other observations which she doesn't understand:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewPoetry.asp?AuthorID=18919 (titled "My Sister, My Brother," to make it more universal.

And in a completely unrelated story of poetry...

I was chilled and honored to find that someone else who had been touched by the hand of evil discovered a poem I posted over a year ago. The poem, titled "I touched the hand of evil" was about a real-life, thankfully brief encounter I had years ago with a serial killer -- after he'd killed but before he'd been arrested. A friend of two of the victims discovered that poem this year, and posted a thank you to me for having written it (I had dedicated it to the victims).

That poem, and the friend's "review" can be found here: http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?AuthorID=18919&id=239737

Thou shalt not BLAME.

We are, each of us, responsible for our own actions and inactions. We cannot control the actions of others; and unless we can crawl into other people’s skin and climb directly into their brains, we can never hope to understand their motivations. We can only address the impact their actions or inactions have on our lives and move forward accepting that we have learned something from the experience.

Thou shalt not JUDGE.

Unless you are wearing a black robe and presiding over a court of law, you have neither the right nor the wisdom to dispense judgment at any time, over any person, for any reason. Accept that you will never know – that you can never know all the facts. Each and every individual person has a unique and individual perspective; and no one, single perspective can provide for only one, single course of action. There are always alternatives. Open your mind. Listen. Make decisions only after you have explored as many angles as you can possibly explore.

Accept the fact that not everyone will make the same decision. Others will take paths very different from your own, and the end results might be as successful as or perhaps even more successful than your own. Wish them well on their journey and proceed upon your own with an open mind. If and when your paths cross again, share your own stories and encourage them to share theirs; each of you will have something to learn.

Sis is taking mom back to Pennsylvania with her tomorrow. Mom will check into a new nursing home, but it sounds infinitely better than where she has been the last couple of weeks. It will be a good move.

Dad might be going to Pennsylvania to a temporary housing situation (assisted living) in the next 2 to 3 weeks. End goal is to get mom and dad back under the same roof. Need to work through all the various insurance and Medicaid issues, in addition to selling the condo and car back here in Michigan.

In 2 to 3 weeks the condo will be vacant -- but not empty. Lots of work left to do with sorting through: what they still need; what goes to family; what goes to Goodwill/Purple Heart/Salvation Army; and what gets sold. At the same time condo goes up for sale.

Car needs to go up for sale in the next week or two -- we need to find out payoff value first. But now sis and I both have PoA so one big hurdle taken care of.

And then there's the other sis.... She's moving to Oklahoma as of Tuesday of next week. Got a great job offer (and needs a job). She's also lived there in the past and is anxious for the move. All these changes will make for an incredibly quiet holiday season out here this year... and frankly, we need quiet after all we've been through this year.

What's great about my parents' move is they'll be closer to the grandkids, and the grandkids (though 3 of 4 of them are already adults) are looking forward to "taking care of" them. My caregiving days will be over, and I will gratefully pass the baton.

And then ... all will be well. Everyone will be in good hands (dad will complain about ... the room's too small, I don't like the food, I don't like this or that or everything else... but mom will be happy).

And I will be able to breathe again. And write a whole lot more than I have been. And rejoin all the writing associations I've lost membership in due to all the ... general insanity.

Life will begin anew.

2010 will be a great year! it has to be better than 2009


 

Under My Skin

"I blew it, man," Blair announced as he slammed the loft door shut behind him. "I just totally lost control." He threw his keys onto the table and brushed past Jim as though his friend wasn't even in the room.

"Hi honey, I'm home," Jim said sarcastically as he stirred a pot on the kitchen stove.

"Cute, Jim," Blair called out from his bedroom. He slammed a few drawers and made a general racket before he rejoined Jim in the kitchen.

"So you had a bad day at school," Jim offered. "It happens. Get over it."

"Get over it? I let Professor Perkins's lab assistant completely derail my class, Jim. That's not something I can just get over."

"I don't suppose you want to tell me about--"

"He was just sitting in on the class. All he had to do was listen to the lecture. That's it. But no, that wasn't good enough for him. He had to
make it his personal objective to shoot down every theory I put out there. I mean, he was armed and ready, man."

"Do I need to go down there and kick his ass for you?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny." Blair cocked his head in consideration. "Not a bad idea, though." He smiled briefly, despite his frustration.

Jim covered the pot and moved to the fridge. "So what happened?" He asked as he grabbed two beers.

Sighing, Blair took the offering and sat down at the table. "I don't know. I just ... normally I can handle something like that. But for some
reason ..." He shook his head. "My defenses were down."

"That's understandable," Jim offered sincerely. "Between the Crenshaw case and the staffing problems you've been having at the university,
it's all taken its toll on you."

Blair nodded. "But when the defenses go down, the shields are supposed to go up. I dropped my shields, Jim. I let him get in, under my skin. It all went downhill from there."

"It happens, Chief. Learn from it and move on."

"I know. I know. Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger. And he didn't exactly kill me, he just--"

"Bruised your ego."

Blair shrugged and then offered a brief nod. "And my reputation."

"Nope."

"What?"

"From what I hear, you've established a pretty good reputation over there. And it takes more than one, minor incident to damage a
reputation."

Blair gave him a pessimistic glare. "One significant incident is all it can take to ruin a reputation. Believe me, Jim, there was damage. And
besides, I'd like to know what you hear exactly, and from whom."

"I have my sources." Jim smiled deviously. "Ease up, Chief. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. Did anyone say anything to you afterward?"

Blair considered that for a moment, and then gave a small nod. "A couple of students smiled and gave me a thumbs up at the end of class."

"Why do you suppose they did that?"

"I don't know." Blair hesitated before admitting, "It seemed like they thought I did okay."

"Then don't you think that maybe you did?"

"I didn't do great." Blair said. "I know I could've handled it better."

"Okay's not exactly bad, Chief."

"Okay is okay." Blair shrugged. "It's not great."

"Not everyone can be great every day of the week."

"Except maybe Alexander."

"Who?"

"Alexander the Great."

"So," Jim shrugged. "Can you settle for Blair the Okay?"

"Doesn't exactly have a ring to it, does it?"

"How 'bout Blair the Good?"

Blair grimaced. "Sounds weak, man."

"Well, that'll never do. How about Blair the guy who had a rough day, but who's now home sharing a beer with another guy who's telling him to get over it?"

Blair chuckled. "Kind of a mouthful. But..." Blair nodded. "It'll do."

He clinked his bottle against Jim's and took a long, soothing swallow.


<end>

Interesting. http://www.clickondetroit.com/news/21045347/detail.html

Further note to my earlier post. That little sneak attack in this mornings meeting has managed to complete derail my brain, rendering it absofrickenlutely useless for the rest of the day. I can't seem to get anything accomplished. At all. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

I need fic.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

...but today both defences and shields were down. Grrrr. Result = bad meeting. I was the meeting chair. When I came under personal attack (a very very rare event) it took me off guard. I take pride in the fact that i can get along with or at least collaborate with just about anyone. This is only the third time in 22 years that i find myself absolutely unable to find common ground with one particular highly opinionated person.

I did not handle it well. I know how to handle that sort of situation. I've successfully diffused worse. But not today. As I said defenses AND shields were down.

Note to self: stop trying to collaborate with said individual. Push back by assigning ownership for solutions back to her. Deflect. Deflect. Deflect.

That is all. Now back to work!

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

Okay, some headlines you just can't ignore!! 

This one was per WDIV news (Detroit NBC station): www.clickondetroit.com/news/20880184/detail.html
The story's not as exciting as the headline; but, hey, you had to read it, didn't you? ;-)

Blair felt himself falling until he jerked awake within the confines of a hospital chair at Jim's bedside. The motion roused both his consciousness and his awareness of pain. On the plus side, he had already been cleared to go home. The worst of his many injuries was the nasty break in his right arm. His ribs had only been bruised, and the fire emanating from his left ankle was just a sprain. The rest of his 'reminders' came from a variety of ugly but benign bumps and scrapes.

 

He shifted in the seat, careful to avoid further disturbing his injured arm as he repositioned it into his sling. The cast made it feel as though he were working with a twenty-five pound dumbbell. Clearly the heaviness of the cast impacted his already awkward movements, as what had been a dull pain quickly escalated into a throbbing one. He never thought to suppress an agonized groan.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

The words broke through his thoughts with the effectiveness of a hammer striking glass. His pain relegated into something less important, Blair turned his attention to the man in the bed.

 

"Jim." He smiled despite the throbbing, even despite the anger Jim's words rekindled within him.

 

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To Hell and Back (Welcome To My Nightmare--Redux)

by Freya-Kendra

 

*   *   *

 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

 

The only sound he heard was a single heartbeat.

 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Raising his weapon, Jim pointed it toward Blair.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He pulled the trigger.

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Mother, I raised you – or I like to I think I tried

While Dad in turn constrained you to satisfy his pride – or lack thereof.

Your early life is enigmatic. Your silence sealed your scars.

Mine was hardly tragic; but your wounds were also ours.

You loved but could not guide me; I know you wished you could.

You could not even confide in me; though I used to wish you would.

You could never quite protect me; though your concern was always real.

You might even have respected me. You were so afraid to feel – while I could never not.

You found comfort once in alcohol. It seemed to fill a void.

But like the serpent in the garden all the comfort was destroyed

through its consumption of you, your spirit, your tiny, inner spark.

It became an interruption; gave me insight to the dark

heart of adaptation, of surrendering defeat.

 

Sometime after graduation we left the devil in retreat

but not before he took a piece of you. He never gave it back.

You giggled at us teasing you for the words you used or lacked.

So like a little child again you laughed at every turn;

except when life grew wild and then the darkness seemed to churn.

 

Mother, I tried to raise you up, to show you life was more

than a knick, a knack, a bauble, empty treasures from the store.

I tried to help you find your voice by sharing what was mine.

But the thoughts you came to share by choice were more harsh than they were kind –

often enough, anyway, in those waning years,

when all the pain you’d kept at bay could not be shed in tears.

 

Mother, now you look at me with empty, distant eyes.

You’ve lost the will to see the truth, and with it, all the lies.

I know you know I’m part of you.

I know you know I care.

I also know you also know I can’t always be there.

But I will always protect you. It’s my job to make you smile.

So giggle like a child again, at least for a little while

longer.

An organization/effort I can get behind:
Lostvoices.org

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

I have received betas in recent weeks but have not responded to any of you. For that I deeply apologize. I have not abandoned the project; nor was I disappointed in the betas. The simple fact is I have not had any time whatsoever to even READ them!! :-(

I'm not sure what I've mentioned or failed to mention here, but most of you know I've been dealing with a double whammy of life changing events this year: my parents' increasing need for assisted living and my company's persistent layoffs (which I've compared with Wraith Cullings (reference is to Stargate: Atlantis).

We expect another round of layoffs next month, and "the village" is growing increasingly skittish.

As to my parents, that is the principle reason for my long silence. My mother suffered a very minor stroke a few weeks ago. Most people in most normal health situations would likely recover 100%. However, my mother also has early to mid-stages of dementia. (there was a measurable shrinkage in her brain between the latest CT-SCAN and the one from last winter.) The short of it is: she needs 24 hour care -- not hands-on care but someone to constantly watch over her. She needs to be reminded to do simple things like get dressed or brush her teeth. She cannot "initiate" anything, but responds well when told to do something.

My dad -- he's a long story. I have a love/hate thing going on with him these days. I hate things he does and things he's done (several of which are unforgivable and one of which -- if true [I've only just been aware aware of it]-- is unthinkable); and I hate his overall selfish nature. But <shrugs> he's my dad and I love him. He's also a human being in need, even though he functions like an overgrown 8 year-old momma's boy. It hurts me to see him depressed, and to hear him today say that he feels "lost" without my mom there -- even though I want to slap him because ... well, not going there now.

Anyway, my time is unevenly distributed between work, seeing to my mom and working through my dad's finances to get them both into an assisted living facility. At some point in between I have to see to my husband, who's recovering from another bout with pneumonia, my household needs and my own finances (I discovered a bill that had fallen between the cracks just today). I have virtually no time to even think about the slightest dabbling in fic or anything else that might fall into the categories of relaxing or fun.

Now they want to release my mom in 2 weeks, and we don't know where to send her. They can't keep her in the therapy center. She can't go home. We're not ready to set them up in assisted living (still have to figure out many, many administrative, logistical and financial things). And I hate the thought of having to send her to a traditional nursing home.

<deep sigh> Anyway, the betas are in a safe place, and they will get the attention they deserve as soon as I can take the time to actually give them the attention they deserve.

Thank you, really and truly.

Drivers Who Miss Exit Must Still Cross Bridge

DETROIT -- Some Detroit area drivers have recently found themselves making trips across the Ambassador Bridge toward Windsor, Ontario, without really wanting to go there. The Interstate 75 freeway near the bridge, which had been shut down for a year and a half for reconstruction, recently reopened to traffic.

But there is still work being done near the bridge as part of the Gateway Project.

Some drivers have been confused by traffic direction signs and head to the bridge plaza by mistake.When they reach that point, they must cross the bridge and head to Canada, even if they do not have the $8 fee, a passport or the enhanced Michigan driver's license needed to return from a visit to Canada.

Randy Madden told Local 4 about his experience when he encountered an Ambassador Bridge worker.

"When I got to the bridge, the person there, I told them I didn't want to cross the bridge. I wanted to turn back around and he told me it's not a big deal but you have to go across at this point. It was right around 5 o'clock. It was rush hour on a Friday so it took me about 40 minutes to get across just to get up to the gate," Madden said.

Chief Ronald Smith, a Border Protections officer, admits it can be time-consuming for those who make the bridge crossing involuntarily, but they will be able to get back to the USA.

"Some of these people that accidentally go to Canada, if they are a U.S. citizen and they are worried about getting back, they shouldn't be because a U.S. citizen cannot be denied re-entry into the United States," Smith said. "What could happen though is we could delay them on their trip because we need to verify their citizenship and their identity before we allow them in. So even if they don't have a passport or a Michigan enhanced driver's license, they'll still be able to get back. It may take a little time."

That reassurance might not be enough for Randy Madden, who doesn't want to repeat the experience of crossing the bridge involuntarily."The whole thing took me about three to four hours. I'm not going anywhere near the bridge until all the construction is done," Madden said.

You can read this one while you listen online. I found safe listening at VH1 via a music video here: http://www.vh1.com/video/play.jhtml?artist=509165&vid=294768

"Mambo #5 (A Little Bit Of...)"
Artist: Lou Bega


One, two, three, four, five,
Jim and Blair in the truck so come on let's ride...
To the waterfront around the corner.
Robbers there they want some guns and cash but Jim really don't wanna
Shootout like he had last week.
He must stay deep 'cause he senses creeps.

We like Major Crimes, Ellison, Sandburg and Simon.
And as time goes on, you know the fic keeps climbin'!
So what can we do? I really beg you my friends,
Keep on writing so it just never ends.
Anything fly, it's all good; let's not dump it.
Please set it in the trumpet.

Chorus

A little bit of Captain Banks barking mad
A little bit of Ellison's lonely dad
A little bit of Naomi's flighty flair
A little brother bonding clears the air
A little bit of Sandburg at the U
A little bit of Alex Barnes in Peru
A little bit of H and Rafe and Joel
And this is where the Sentinel takes control

Mambo number five.

They're up and down and movin' all around.
Ellison hears the sound, Sandburg's shootin' at the ground.
A fire demon on the left and another on the right.
One to the front and one to the side.
Jim claps his hands once and claps his hands twice
Then Blair claps too and it's golden all night.

Chorus

A little bit of Captain Banks barking mad
A little bit of Ellison's lonely dad
A little bit of Naomi's flighty flair
A little brother bonding clears the air
A little bit of Sandburg at the U
A little bit of Alex Barnes in Peru
A little bit of H and Rafe and Joel
And this is where the Sentinel takes control

Mambo number five.

Chorus

A little bit of Captain Banks barking mad
A little bit of Ellison's lonely dad
A little bit of Naomi's flighty flair
A little brother bonding clears the air
A little bit of Sandburg at the U
A little bit of Alex Barnes in Peru
A little bit of H and Rafe and Joel
And this is where the Sentinel takes control

Crooks do all to fall in line for the Cascade crew.
Cause they can't run and they can't hide.
Sentinel make it all alright.

Mambo number five.