Riddles on the Wind (6)

1972 Oxford.

Tilly watched as Libellule ran. She felt a bit daft standing there with a leash in her hands, but it was the only way that they could manage even in the semi ‘wilds’ of the open lands near Oxford. It had been a week since Tilly had spoken to Rose. No one had heard from Andre or Maria. Libellule had pinpointed an area on a map where she had last ‘felt’ her parents to be. Family had headed up there, but so far the search had proven worthless.

She ran. It wasn’t far enough, but she kept going. Round and round the green grasslands skirting the edges of trees and brambles. A rabbit nearly died of shock when it ran out in front of her, but she knew it wasn’t good to eat it here. Too many two-legs. After a while, she headed back towards Tilly.

“You do know it feels absolutely daft to have my niece on a leash. Oh heavens! It rhymes!” Tilly laughed as she lead her “wolfhound” back to the hotel.

An hour later, the two woman sat in the restaurant of the Royal Oxford Hotel sipping tea and eating crumpets.

“What do you want to do Libby?”

Libby sighed. “Part of me wants to go back to Canada and help search for Maman and Papa. The other part wants to get back to school. I feel guilty about that, because finding my parents should be more important. And yet I think that maybe they’d want me to get on with my life. I’m terribly conflicted.”

Tilly nodded. She didn’t admit to Libby that she had the same thoughts. The hospital was short handed enough with her gone, yet she knew that Libby needed her at the moment. What frustrated her was the lack of information from the family. “Well, you need to make a decision. Trinity term is half over. You’ve lost weeks at this point.”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be able to catch up. I’ll have to start up at Michaelmas. Perhaps I can do both. Go home until August and then return.”

Tilly thought about that for a moment. “Perhaps that would work. The warmer weather may help in the search.”

Libby nodded.

A week later, Libby had withdrawn from St. Hilda’s with a promise to return in the autumn. She’d said goodbye to her friends and places her belongings in storage with Gabby’s parents. The flight from Heathrow to Calgary seemed to take forever. When they finally cleared the baggage area, they found Rose, Quintus, Mary and a few of the cousins waiting for them. They all piled into cars and headed off to Rose’s house.

“So, we find that burned plain. Plenty dead bones. None of them your parents,” said Quintus.

Libby and Tilly listened as they ate dinner.

“Then we find that camp. Bits and pieces of gear all over. Signs of wolves, man all over. Don’ recognize any of them ‘cept Andre. So much snow, it hard to track clear. After a day, we finally find that cairn.”

“Maman’s grave?”

“Aye. My son Brian, Alice’s Luc and I talk long time. Decide to bring Maria home. Ground, it too frozen. So, we mark it good and come home.”

Libby nodded. It was nearly May, and there was still deep snow in the mountains. “Where is Papa though?”

“No one has heard from him. No reports from the Mounties. And before you ask, yes, we’ve reported him missing,” said Rose.

“When the weather warms up, I want to go with you to bring Maman home.”

“Aye.” Quintus could see by the look on her face that there was no dissuading her.

Time passed swiftly as Libby caught up with her cousins and the family. Alexander and Jelka were happy to see Libby. Andrew, didn’t know what to make of her. Libby couldn’t decide if he was just shy or tongue tied. Every time she spoke to him, he blushed or his voice squeaked. Some of the family came up from Montana. Quintus’ son Brian brought his family up. Lutitia was a willowy toddler, while Helene was a sturdy two year old. Belle, their mother was pregnant with their third child. Margaret’s son Duncan was enamored with John Wayne and refused to answer to his name. The entire family had finally given in and began to call him Duke. Lewis had been happy to see Libby and tell her all about his lumber business.

Mid-May Quintus, Luc, Brian and Libby left for the Yukon and the site of Maria’s grave. The bush plane pulled up next to the burned wreck that Quintus and the family had found earlier. It was a short hike in from the lake to the campsite. The snow had begun to melt, leaving slush patches amidst the hardpack snow. Quintus winced when he realized that some of the brown patches were not mud or debris, but frozen blood. Before he could distract Libby, he saw her kneel and inspect one of them.

“Not Maman.”

Luc looked at her quizzically. “What?”

“There is a lot of blood here. This is not Maman’s.” Libby stood and walked over to another spot near the blackened ring of a fire pit. “This is Maman’s blood.”

“Libby, you say we have more than one dead here?” asked Quintus.

“Aye. I think maybe there is more here than what we see.” She walked a little farther. “This is a third spot of blood. Different than the other two.”

Brian walked up to his father. “There is wolf scat over near the trees. Must have been a pack of shifters. Maria mebbe she gather shifters?”

Quintus walked over to where Brian had been. He saw the same signs and nodded. He was puzzled now and wondered what had really happened. He walked past the campsite and headed up to the grave.

It took them a while to move the stones and dig down to Maria’s body. What they found was a sleeping bag wrapped in a tarp. It was a frozen cocoon. They excavated as best they could. In the end, they levered the wrapped body and took it back to the plane. Once they got back to Calgary, they took the body to a local mortuary run by family. When the body thawed, they discovered the cause of Maria’s death.

“She’d been shot?”

“Yes, Tilly. Shot. Three wounds. One fatal.” explained Quintus. He’d asked to see the body when the mortuary assistant had called and explained what had happened. The subvocal growls had shaken the room.

“You think Andre and that pack of shifters kill the men and burn the plane to hide things?” asked Rose.


“It’s the only logical answer,” said Libby.

“And the only question left is where is Andre?” Tilly asked.

Two days later, Maria was buried in the family cemetery up in the valley next to her Grandmere Celia.

A Little Bit of an Explanation

I fell off the blog sphere. Big time. A while back, I mentioned that there had been another death to deal with. That was my ex. It made for a very tangled mess. Trying to sort out everything between our children, family, and legalities was crazy. Now to complicate matters, we discovered that my name was still on the house. So, all of a sudden, I owned a home again. (yeah!) And a mortgage. (Boo!) Oh, and the house was a wreck. Filthy. My mind boggles when I think of the state of the house when we first took over the keys. We’ve spent a month cleaning. Bleaching, mopping, sanding, hauling trash, sorting, painting, more painting, scraping, spackling. You name it, it has eaten our lives. Wolf and I have been working so hard, we haven’t even had time or energy for sex! (oh the horrors!)

However, we are beginning to turn the corner, and will soon be moving into our new home. I will have a studio. Wolf will have an office. Better yet, we will have some private space. (do you have any idea of how hard it is to have a good spanking in a house full of people?)

And… I will be doing my best to write! Oh how I’ve missed writing!

Solstice Blessings!

Happy Holidays to everyone! And…Just a little pic to keep warm thoughts flowing.

Herne 1

Riddles on the Wind (5)

Please be patient. It’s taking a while to get back into the rhythms of writing. The latest death in the extended family has taken it’s toll. Just as we thought everything was settled down, life went to hell in that damned handbasket again. Hope you enjoy the latest installment… 

Jeffreys took the men to the train station the next afternoon. As he watched the train pull slowly out of the station, he could have sworn he saw a pack of wolves race the train. He turned to holler at the station master, but by the time he found him, the wolves had disappeared. On the last car of the train, he saw three of the men wave at him. He waved back.

Andre turned to Felix and Paul. “Damn close. That Mountie, he watch us.”

Paul nodded. “We grab the men pret damn quick. They dressed now. Hope no one count them tickets.”

The other two men nodded. They headed back towards the Second Class cars, where the rest of the pack sat. They watched the scenery flow by and then disappear as the night closed in. The men went in groups of fours or fives to the dining car to eat. They curled up and slept while others took turns on watch.

At dawn, the train stopped to pick up passengers. Some of the men slipped off the train so that when the conductor came through, the tickets matched the head count. As the train started up, Andre and Felix made certain that all the men got back on. When he went back into their compartment, there were two new men. They smiled at Andre. Not certain of what to do, he smiled back.

“You are?” he began to ask.

The first man stood. He towered over Andre. “Big Bear. Cree-Saulteaux. You… Not Metis like these wolf pups, but boss man, Aye?”

Andre nodded. The man’s braids were shot with gray, and hung past his waist.

“This Pasquah. No good son.” Big Bear smiled as he shook the slight built man. “We see your men run for train, and decide that we come too.”

Andre looked over at Felix to see how the shifters were handling the intrusion. Felix nodded. “So, you recognize my friends?”

Big Bear and Pasquah sat down on the floor and smiled. Andre took his seat. He waited to see what the two men would say.

“We see you run. The woods hide many things. Metis, they are a shifty bunch.” Big Bear laughed this time. The tension in the room eased, and soon everyone was chatting. When the conductor came by to ask for tickets, he took one look at the two Indians and then just kept walking. Later, some of the men went to the dining car and came back with sandwiches and sodas for everyone. Afterwards, some men slept while others talked. Big Bear moved over to sit next to Andre.

“You been out a long time.”

“Over three years.”

“Hard to be civilized. What brings you back?”

“My daughter.” Andre was trying to figure out how to explain this to a total stranger who seemed to know him better than anyone since his father-in-law, Brian.

Big Bear nodded. “Your wife, she with her?”

“Non. Dead up that Yukon.” Andre looked out the window, trying to hold back the tears. His emotions were still so raw even after all this time. He felt a warm hand on his. He looked back to see Big Bear looking at him as if he knew everything.

“Hunters?” he asked softly.

Andre nodded.

Big Bear nodded. They sat there in silence as the train clacked down the rails.

Edmonton train station was loud. Full of people. Andre and the pack huddled together. Big Bear had sent Pasquah off to find information.

“We want to head to Leithbridge and then up into the mountains. It is too much for some of us though.” Andre didn’t want to admit that it was too much for all of them. The Mountie had given them money for tickets, but the confusion and crowds were overwhelming them.

“Pasquah will find us. He has a friend. Let us go outside and wait on the grass.”

Andre nodded and the men followed him. Paul was trying not to growl under his breath, and David just looked lost. Once they were outside, the men began to relax a little. Andre thought back to Brian and his sons during the war and wondered how they survived the long sea voyages without going crazy. He was ready to run bolt himself.

An hour later, Pasquah loped across the lawn to where the men sat. He came to a halt in front of his father. “I found Uncle and he has a truck he will let us use.”

“A truck?”

“A big farm truck. We just need to pay for petrol.” Pasquah pointed back at a 1940’s Deuce and a half. It had the wooden sides and canvas top. Another man waved from the window. “We can take you wherever you want.”

Andre looked around at the pack. One by one, they nodded. “Let’s get out of the city.”

Five hours later, Andre pointed towards the turn that would take them up to the valley and home. As the truck rolled past the sawmill, Andre had a feeling of dread overcome him. There were more lights and houses than there had been when they left. He worried that there would be no one there who knew him.

“Turn down that lane,” he directed George, who was driving. George followed his directions until they came to a small house with a sign out front that read ‘Clinic’. “Wait here.” Andre hopped out of the truck and headed for the door. He knocked, and a moment later, Tilly opened the door.

Peanut Butter

With a sigh of pleasure, he opened his legs giving her free access to his balls. She massaged the peanut oil gently and then began to rub more onto his cock.

“Oh that feels so good Honey”

“Mmmmmm.” She moaned as she began to lick his balls. Her tongue ran up from the base of his balls. She licked up, down and around both sides.

He squirmed as his cock got harder and harder. He about shot his load as her tongue wrapped around the base of his cock and began to lick upward.

She giggled.

As scrambled as his brain was with pleasure, something was wrong. How could she laugh while her mouth was so wrapped around his balls. He struggled to understand as his pleasure built.

He woke with a start. He’d been dreaming. He could still feel her tongue on his balls, which confused him as the laughter seemed to come from the doorway. He flipped back the covers to see their dog licking peanut butter off of his balls with long loving devoted strokes. He screamed. The dog kept licking his balls.

She bent double with laughter in the doorway as she licked peanut butter off of the spoon.


(Yes, working my way back to writing! Another death in the extended family knocked me for a loop. But… I am working on making dedicated time for writing. Hope you enjoyed my little tease.)


And the Bride Wore Plaid


Riddles on the Wind (4)

Oxford, 1972.

“Libby! Answer me!” Gabby pounded on the door again.

“Maybe we should get the bursar,” Betsy was torn between trying to force the door and fleeing downstairs.

Gabby stopped pounding on the door. “Fine. Go get him. Make sure he brings a key. I know something’s wrong. Libby wouldn’t miss class.”

Betsy ran down the stairs to the domestic Bursar’s office. She was back in a few minutes, with Miles Stour, the bursar. He was a bit out of breath, but he had the keys in his hand.

“Better not be one of your pranks,” he said as he opened up the door. He was about to give them more of his thoughts when the door swung open. The room was a mess. The two girls screamed at the same time as they launched themselves into the room towards a crumpled form on the floor. He was half way down the stairs when one girl screamed at him to call an ambulance.

“Sir? Will she be alright?” Gabby tried to ask the doctor as he moved down the hall and away from the room that they’d taken Libby.

He stopped and turned. “Are you one of the girls that found her?”


“Do you know where her parents are? Any guardian?”

“No. I don’t. Her parents were in Canada. Up doing some sort of research in the Yukon.”

He sighed. “Would the college know of anyone?”

Gabby thought for a moment. “No, but my parents might stand as guardian until someone was found.”

He nodded and gestured for her to follow him.

Three hours later, Gabby’s parents came out of the conference room to where Gabby waited with Joan and Betsy.

“Girls, Libby will be alright. She was terribly dehydrated and seems to have suffered some sort of seizure.” Gabby’s father paused to let this sink it. The doctors had feared drugs, which were beginning to be seen more and more in the Oxbridge circles, but there had been no trace in Libby’s blood. They finally wrote it down as ‘unknown seizure’.

“When can we visit her?” Betsy was still teary eyed.

“Tomorrow. The doctors want a few hours to bring her back. She’d been very near death. If you three hadn’t been worried, they might not have found her until it was too late.”

We’re very proud of you girls,” Gabby’s mum mentioned. “Now we need to find a way to contact her parents.”

The next day, with the bursar’s permission, the girls went through Libby’s room. They found her address book. After returning to Gabby’s rooms, they began calling people. They started with those of the same last name, Paquet. No one answered the first number. They moved on, and finally someone named Tilly answered the phone. It was some aunt, and she said she’d come as fast as she could. When they’d tried to describe where Libby was, the woman said she was English, and knew Oxford.

The three girls walked down the hall of the hospital, and waited to be admitted into Libby’s room. When they went in, Libby was curled up with a book, looking pale but better than when they’d found her. She looked up and smiled. Thank you.”

All three spoke at once.

“Anything for a friend.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Just so glad you’re alright. We called an aunt of yours, and she’s coming over,” Betsy explained.

Libby blinked. “Who?” Her voice was still a bit gruff.

“Tilly Paquet. She was the first person who actually answered a phone.” Betsy suddenly felt unsure. “We… we didn’t know how to find your parents.”

Libby nodded. “She’s alright. At least you found someone.”

“What happened Libby?” asked Joan.

Libby looked at the three, as they set down flowers, grapes, chocolate and their coats. She took a deep breath. “This will sound strange, but I was sitting in a the library when I had this horrid pain in my side. I thought I was going to be ill, right there in the Bodleian. I ran, and headed home, thinking I was going to be terribly ill, but all I could think about was my mum.”

“Your mum?” asked Gabby.

“Yes. I… I had this feeling that something dreadful had happened. That she is dead. Then I just curled up in a ball and cried. Next thing I know, I’m in hospital.”

“Did you tell the doctor that?” asked Joan.

Libby nodded. “Mum and Dad are up in the Yukon somewhere, and they have been terribly hard to contact. I hadn’t heard from them in a bit, and they should have contacted my aunts or my cousins by now. I…” She began to cry.

The girls moved forward to hug her.

Tilly moved through the airport and out to the nearest taxi. He loaded her luggage and headed for Paddington Station. From there she caught the next train to Oxford. The Churchhill Hospital was familiar to Tilly. She was dropped there by the cabbie at tea time. She was exhausted, but hoped that Libellule would be waiting for her. The nursing sister at the desk was brisk, but responded when Tilly informed her of the relationship to one of their patients.

“Come with me.” The sister walked briskly down the hall and then into a room.

Tilly followed and found that Libellule was asleep. “I’ll just wait for her to wake.”

The sister nodded and left.

Tilly made herself comfortable and waited. It didn’t take long before Libellule stirred, stretched and woke. She looked over to see a thin grey haired woman sitting quietly in the chair by the door.

“Aunty Tilly.”

“Libellule, how are you?” Tilly moved forward to embrace her niece.

“Tired, but better. Has… has anyone heard from Maman?”

“No. We can’t find them.”

Libellule nodded. “I think… that Maman is dead. I hurt so bad, yet no injury. An when I call for her, I can’t here her anymore.”

Tilly took this all in. Everyone knew that Libellule had been able to hear all of the shifters from the time she was very little. Only Celia had had that talent, and even she had limitations. “Are you certain?”

Libellule nodded. “I try and try. I hear all my cousins, I even here Granpere Buster. He crazy lonely.”

Tilly nodded. The whole family shattered in slow motion when Natalie died, and her husband Brian had never recovered. Those left in the valley did there best, but there were just too many people.

“Do you want to come home with me?” Tilly wasn’t certain what the right course of action was, but she had to offer.

Libellule thought for a moment. “I… I don’t know. Part of me wants to run to where I last knew they were, and the other part of me wants to run and hide. I have never felt so alone. I always here Maman.”

“Can you hear your papa?”

“Non. Sometimes I hear him, like the day he came to get Maman and I. Or when he is very happy. Now, I hear nothing. I worry. Papa, he will live so long and now…” Her voice drifted off.

Tilly stood up and wrapped her arms around her niece. “If you’d like, I’ll talk to the doctors and see if you can at least leave the hospital.”

Libellule nodded.

Two hours later, Tilly and Libellule left hospital and headed for the Royal Oxford Hotel. Room service brought tea and a light supper. The two women talked while they ate. Tilly made a few calls while Libellule took a bath.

“Yes, let me know the moment you discover anything. Thank you Rose.”

Life and Coloring Books…

I’m almost recovered from all that has gone on over the last three months. An SCA event, a music festival and lots of craziness with life in general. Wolf and I have been going to bed by 9pm! Gaaah! I will not even begin the rant that is “lack of playtime”. My goal is more writing, more sex and more “us time”.

However, on a funny note… my sister while looking for an Outlander coloring book came across a coloring book entitled “Color my Boobs“. Yes, the coloring book world had forayed into Erotica! There is one on sexual positions and cunts as well!


Riddles on the Wind (3)

Wordwych sneaks in the door, sits at the computer and types away furiously. Wolf is working out in the living room, and understands that it is late, yet knows that a writer must write. It’s been beyond hectic. The mundane life has eaten them both and spit out the bones. However, things are beginning to settle down. 

The beloved dog’s grave is a garden. Wolf is due to start a new contract in September, and a vacation at long last looms. Yes, it’s time for that SCA holiday. Seven days of no phones, meetings, committees, brunches, BBQ’s with political overtones, no interviews, no must be present politically moments.(yeah… there’s a political side to live.) Nothing. Just relaxing and Living the Dream…

To hold you over, the next chapter in RitW. 


He walked. When the light faded, the pack gathered round the fire that he lit, bringing in a rabbit or deer to be shared. The number of wolves grew too. Most times they saw no humans for weeks on end. On the occasion that a hunter crossed their paths, most never saw anything except tracks. Wolf hunters were buried.

He forgot where he had been heading. If a pack member died, they mourned and moved on. His clothes rotted and his shoes wore out. They were replaced haphazardly with items from hunters or raw skins. They slept, ate and traveled across the forests.

He woke up one morning, to howls. He looked around and realized that the shifter stuck in wolf form had passed in the night. The other shifters had begun to dig a grave, and he joined them. When they were finished, he sat back, trying to remember a task he’d forgotten.

“What matter you?” a shifter asked as he squatted next to the fire.

“I have forgotten something I was suppose to do.”

“We no ask you to do somethin’.”

“Non. It was not you.” The tears began to well up in his eyes. Memories flooded his thoughts. He’d blocked out so much until now when the death and grave brought everything back in sharp detail.

“You grieve your mate.”

“Aye. And she ask me to look after Libellule. That is what I forget.”

The shifter nodded. “Where that Libellule?”

“England. I think.”

The shifter turned his head to the side in a gesture more readily seen on a wolf. “You don’ know?”

“Non. It was long time back. I don’t know how long we travel.”

“Ah. You leave the forest now?”

He thought for a while. “Aye.”

“We come with you.”

“You… you will?”

“You, us, pack. Your mate pack bitch. No one take her place. No one tell us different.”

He realized that on some level, that Maria still ruled their lives. Their loyalty still commanded by her love. He nodded. Now for the difficult part of finding ‘civilization’ and then Libellule.

Six weeks later, they walked out of the forest, and into a small village. The sign on the side of a building read “Ross River Cafe”. Some stayed in the dark pines, while seven filthy, shaggy men walked into the sunlit streets. The humans gawked at the men, and backed away. They hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when a vehicle pulled up in front of them. A man in a red uniform stepped out and walked up to them.

“Hello, can you tell me who you are and where you’re going?”

Three of the men stared in silent terror. They realized that they barely understood the man. The fourth cleared his throat and began to address the officer. “We’ve been lost. Plane crash. Been walking.”

The Mountie took a good look at the men and then turned back to his car and grabbed the radio. He said something and then came back to the men.

“Um… when was the crash?”

“What’s the date?”

The Mountie blinked. “It’s.. June 14th, 1975.”

Tears ran down the man’s face. “It’s been almost three years.”

“Oh… oh dear.” The mix of panic and horror that filled the man’s voice. “Let’s take you to the station.” He moved to open the doors of the car and help the men inside. Once they all were in, he started up the engine and pulled away from the edge of town. In the shadows, the wolves followed.

“Sit down here. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Who do we contact? Do you have any family?” The Mountie was trying to do everything at once. The other officers in the RMCP station didn’t know what to do either. One ran for the local doctor, and the other for food from the cafe.

The men sat quietly. They’d talked about contact with others and what they would say. Most were shocked by the lights, noises and smells after so many years in the forest. The one thing they did know was that none of these people were shifters.

“My name is Andre Paquet. My wife, Maria, died in the crash. We lived in Portland. Her… her family lived near… near Lethbridge. Our daughter is in Oxford, England.

The officer scribbled down things as fast as he could. “The rest of you?”

“David Burns. Calgary. No family.” The man’s voice was rusty with disuse.

“Evan Jones. Alberta, divorced.”

“Micah Daigre. Jasper. I don’t know.”

“Felix Pelletier. Edmonton. I.. I don’t know either.” The man began to cry, and one of the others put his arm around him.

“Paul Verlow. Watson Lake. No family.”

“Mathis Wolfe. Use to live in Red Deer. I had a daughter.”

The Mountie scribbled notes as fast as he could. He didn’t have any way to check even the most basic facts, but he’d make a record. “Now tell me again what happened.”

Andre took a deep breath and began to talk.

An hour passed and the men had eaten every crumb of food that was brought in. One of the wives came in and after getting a general idea of sizes, headed off to the church and rifled through the charity donations. She and another wife came back with more than enough clothing. Then the men took turns showering in the back of the station.

Andre looked at himself in the mirror for the first time in ages. His face was dark from exposure. His hair and beard were scraggly. It was clean, but he couldn’t get a comb through it. He walked out into the office area and over to Jeffreys, the Mountie who had first found them.

“Do you have any scissors?”

Jeffreys looked at him and shook his head. “Wait a minute.” He picked up the phone and made a quick call. When he finished, he came over to where Andre stood at the window. “George is a barber. He’s coming over.”

Andre nodded.

It took another hour to cut and trim the men up to a semblance of normality. All had kept their beards, and their hair was collar length. George must have swept three pounds of hair up off of the floor. He gathered up his equipment and waved to Jeffreys.

“How can we repay you?” asked Felix.

“You don’t need to. We just want to get you safely to your families.” Jeffreys had been speaking to his superiors, and the general consensus was that the men would be taken to Edmonton. Hopefully by then, families could be found. “I’m heading home now. You can sleep in the cells, and we’ll see you in the morning.” With that, he and the other Mountie said their goodnights and departed.

Andre waited until the men had been gone about half an hour. Then he opened the door and whistled. The remaining six shifters ran out of the woods and in the doors. It was their turn to shower. Andre had found scissors in the one desk and helped the men trim up their beards and hair. Others had actually saved a bit of food and brought that out. Once the food was gone, the men curled up to sleep while a couple took turns watching.


Life Interrupts

Wolf and I have had a hectic few weeks. Our dog died unexpectedly. Mundane work has gone nutty. I have half a chapter written, and am having difficulty getting more than 5 minutes alone to write. Jobs have appeared and vaporized. Responsibilities have multiplied and there had been general craziness all around. I’m about ready to run away from home, but I know that won’t work. They’d find me. I know this, because in the dictionary next to that phrase “If you want something done, give it to a busy person” is my picture. (four different groups want me to be their “chairperson”)(two of them I can’t walk away from as there is no one else to do the job.)

So, my plan right now is to tell the world to just fucking cope without me for the next few days. I hope to do some writing as the story is burning in my head.

Hugs and love to dear friends that are having issues. You are not alone. Don’t know what the heck it is, but life can just settle down for so many of us!