04 July 2013

Notes - irony / Grandma 19 draft completed / worded out


         You have rain just as predicted. Carol is talking to Mary Lou on the phone and you are out of the bath with your joints and lower back feeling better after the warm soaking. You have been looking over some of your readers' addresses, that is, their cities, and rather enjoy knowing a few of the same pop in once in a while. - Amorella

         Readers, new and old, are guests in my head whenever they wish. I am curious every once in a while about what they might think about this Great Merlyn's Ghost, Volume 1, but I feel that as 'friends of a sort' they would send me a note whenever they feel I have stepped over reality's edge.

         That's funny, orndorff. You are once-in-a-while concerned about your own sanity but not the sanity of others in the world. - Amorella

         It doesn't come up often, but no I don't think about anyone else's sanity when I have my own to be concerned about. The words I write are the keel that keeps me sailing upright, but "be moderate in all things" rings a bell to a safe harbor. I am man and mast but in here I sail in heartansoulanmind waters. The shore holds a beacon that lights, "know thyself," on the inner skull, and thus I attempt always to follow Socrates' guiding steps first. I'm sure this reads of silliness but my thoughts are my own and I am allowed to freely express them in this region of the world. - rho

         You sign the paragraph with a signature for self-emphasis no doubt. - Amorella

         1051 hours. Alas, the signature adds to the silliness. But it is true sometimes I feel my own words need my own stamp. This is a form of arrogance, (no doubt).

         It is a stamp of your humanity and honesty, boy. In all book and blog you fear losing your privacy most. Irony, huh? - Amorella

         A bolt of irony with a dark rumble of humor; that is what this is.

         Post, orndorff and title this first heady selection: "irony". - Amorella


         1629 hours. I have completed Grandma's Story 19.

         Add and post. - Amorella

***
Grandma.19 ©2013, rho, draft for GMG,Vol.1
             
            “Greetings. I mean you no harm. My name is Criterios. I am from Athens to attend the festival at Santiago de Compostela. Are you of the Roman Church?"

            Renaldo opened his eyes from a night's rest in the woods. He stood and replied, “ I am a monk also traveling to the Way of Saint James. The brother of our Christ has his bones revered the site.”

            Upon seeing his books on a nearby stump Criterios politely asked, "What are your talents?"

           “I have worked setting and leading blue stained glass into several Church windows. I have also carved simple oak crosses.”

           Criterios responded in surprise, “With your books I assumed you were a scholar?

           Renaldo momentarily stared into the glowing embers somberly and uttered, "People in this country hold their philosophies private."

           Criterios pointed to Renaldo's two leather bound books, smiled broadly and stated, “You are a student of the world like myself. I am learned also. I see you have Aristotle.”

           Renaldo returned the smile, “I always have my two friends Aristotle and Pythagoras with me.” He paused, "But say, though your clothes define you otherwise, I see you have woman's eyes and smile. You say you are Greek, how so are you here?"

          “My honest name is Criteria. I am disguised as a man for my own protection. In this clothing I appeared manly enough. I was schooled in the philosophies in Athens."

          Gleaning, he commented quietly, "Clever enough," and continued his observation.  She has brown eyebrows, a solid nose, slender, distinct cheekbones, and a sharp angular chin. She could easily pass for a Frank. Her body appears adolescent male and her cleverness shows her as student of the world.

           "Our family is well known, thus I travel under the name Criterios.”

            Renaldo’s simple smile followed with a simple question, “Whose family are you?”

            “I am Ostrogoth and converted to Arian Christianity. On his mother's side father is a cousin with Pepin and his son Charles. My great grandfather was a trader with the Romans. My family is wealthy. Father wanted another son but got me instead.”

            “Ostrogoth,” he said in surprise. “I am Visigoth. So many members of my family have died of natural causes we thought it a curse for my father to have supported the Aryanism among the Visigoths. I decided to become a priest in the Roman Church to relieve the family of the curse.”

            Criteria stopped. “Here we are on the same path, heading to the bones of St. James the Elder, the brother of Jesus.”

            He stood still in the moment. “You think like my grandfather and father. Since Jesus had a brother, he must have been a man like any other. A great and good man, but a man.”

           "We need to get on our way to the Way of St. James Festival in Santiago de Compostela."

            The two quietly continued for two miles on the open and nearly empty road towards the city that sits on the west coast of northern Spain. She studied Renaldo along the way

            The man has a Roman nose, thinks Criteria, and bushy thick black eyebrows to counter the goatee on his chin. His head of brunet hair and high Frankish brow fits with the eyes of artistic intelligence.  I wonder on the difference between his heart and his reason. The face is rounder than first appears, and that right eye squints thinner than the left yet he has a warrior's face not that of an acetic.

            For the first time since he could remember, his books became secondary. This woman is real and like myself, he thought and said, "How long will you be in Santiago?”

            "When we arrive at Santiago de Compostela in Galicia where the Apostle, Saint James the Greater is said to be buried my pilgrimage will be completed. From Santiago I will travel east to the fishing village of Morus where I will be leaving by boat for Rome. If we find we are compatible would you like to escort me to Rome?

            Grandma formed a tidy little smirk on those precious lips of hers. Her eyes lit a flash of love that quickly formed between Criteria and Renaldo. Grandma mused.


In here are woven four divisions in one
The Dead, a Present, a Past, and a Future are spun.
One by one through Chapter Twenty-one to deliver
A slow march of freed words from across the River.

Words delivered by Ferryboat Captain, Leo Lamar
From the Dead of humanity tilting the Living ajar.
Filtering through humankind like a somber dew
Through a body of friendship, is Grandma to you.

From smiling Grandma's white teeth and black gums
Merlyn's mind in a Future this way comes.

787 words

***



         2052 hours. We are already hearing some fireworks here and about. Some are north on the north bank of Muddy Creek at St. Susanna Parish and School. As it is still light individuals are doing the honors. Carol has been watching the festivities in Washington. In our younger days we went to a couple of the fireworks displays at Washington's Monument and one or two of the lighting of the Christmas tree at the Capitol also. Carol and I had fun times in and about Washington from 1966 to 1969 as her family returned from Saigon; then from 1972 to 1976 when her parents and sisters were living there. From '69 to '72 they were stationed at the American Embassy in Delhi while we were in Sao Paulo working at Escola Graduada de Sao Paulo (the private American Graded School).

         I am ready to go to bed early, and will unless Carol says she wants to go see the fireworks at King's Island amusements. They have fireworks every night at ten during the summer season if weather permits. Presently it is not raining but we have had more than an inch today and the heavy rains are supposed to hit us during the night and tomorrow. We'll see.

         You are mostly worded out this evening, boy. In here no one has to listen in any case. Later, dude. Post. - Amorella

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