03 February 2014

Notes - dark humor / (final) Brothers 14 / (final) Grandma 14 /

         Mid-afternoon. You did your exercises this morning, fifty minutes worth. Carol is taking her first walk around the lake at the park while you sit it out. You had left over Papa John’s pizza for lunch while you watched last night “Downton Abbey”. So far it has been a rather relaxing cool and sunny day. You got a short note from Rich and Ann D. saying you ought to continue your work and that I, the Amorella, ought to be patented for the prevention of writer’s block.

         1413 hours. He was being humorous.

         Of course. – Amorella

         I think my problem with Diplomat is that I am not wickedly keen on satirizing myself.

         No doubt. Don’t you find this refreshingly interesting? – Amorella

         I see the great dark humor in it.

         Isn’t that what you wanted, to see the darkness with the species – why not let Diplomat flesh it out. – Amorella

         I normally love research.

         There’s the rub. Funny, huh? – Amorella

         I must say humor knows no bounds.

         Why else a HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither? – Amorella

         True, a bit like Moby Dick that way.

         Here comes Carol walking across the dam. She looks cold. Later dude. – Amorella

         You ran some errands, including a hot chocolate for Carol and a stopped at Graeter’s before sitting in the car behind the Miami University extension at the VOA Park off Cox Road. Carol is on page 87 of The Postmistress.

         1523 hours. Time to work on Brothers 14. 

         1610 hours. I completed the segment though we moved from VOA Miami to VOA Centre Target to nearby Kroger’s Carol is getting candy for the packages she just bought for the Blue Ash Retired Teachers’ luncheon on Thursday. She and Ann are in charge of it this time.

         Add your Brothers segment. – Amorella

***
(final) The Brothers 14 ©2014, rho GMG.One

            It is an early morning in late August and Orion is up in the southeast sky. By afternoon high school and college football and band practices have begun in Riverton. While Richard thinks on why the New Year doesn’t begin in September like it should, Robert sits beside him on the back deck looking off into the clump of trees on the back of his corner lot at Main and West Streets.

            “I like the trees,” said Robert. “A couple in the middle are already turning.”

            Richard smiled contentedly, “Buckeyes, no doubt."

            “I’ve new a poem in hand.”

            Ignoring the statement Richard asked, “You started reading my book yet?"

            "I finished the first chapter.”

            “What do you think?” asked Richard enthusiastically.

            “Who is Grandma Earth exactly?”

            “She . . . I’m not sure exactly. She introduces the stories.”

            “Is she Mother Nature? That’s what I thought at first, but your side notes say she is the black actress in Gone With The Wind.”

            “Hattie McDaniel. That's right, I mentally modeled the character of Grandma after her. I didn't know it was a margin note.”

            “It is a draft, Richie.” He glanced to the browned blue grass in the late summer yard thinking he should have watered it more like Connie had suggested. “Whatever happened to Hattie McDaniel?”

            “I don’t know. Her caring portrayal in the film is what I wanted to express.”

            Robert gave a grumble, “Grandma as Mother Nature doesn’t give a damn. Look at all the natural disasters. Millions of people killed.”

            “She’s indifferent, just like we are.”

            “Speak for yourself, Richie.”

            “She’s indifferent just as I am. I made her up. What else would you expect her to be besides myself?”

            “You once said Grandma was modeled on the commercial face of Aunt Jemima."

            “People know about Aunt Jemima. She is still on the box, he paused and shuffled in his chair, “Well, she’s new and updated. Most readers wouldn’t know the name Hattie McDaniel, and I didn’t know how to reference Gone With The Wind in context with Aunt Jemima.”

            “Aunt Jemima’s supposed to be a cook too isn’t she?”

            “I don’t remember,” replied Richard in a ruffled tone.

            Robert spoke lazily, “The whole chapter is a bit unorthodox, but I realize you are writing for a very limited audience.”

Richard suddenly asks, “Do you want to fly out to Vegas again this fall or wait until spring?”

"The last time the four of us went to Vegas you spent most of our last free day playing nickel slots Richie.”

“That's because early on I lost a hundred dollars playing quarter slots. It isn’t nearly as much fun as nickel slots." He hesitated, "where are Cyndi and Connie?"

“We’re coming!” shouted Connie. “We’ve whipped up a special treat.”  

What have you two been talking about?" asked Cyndi as they came into the room.

"I hope it's double chocolate and caramel brownies," replied Richard.
           
"We made a fruit bowl," smiled Cyndi. "It's a lot healthier than brownies."

"But not nearly as good," replied Robert. With a hint of irritation the brothers laughed.

The girls sat somber-like for a moment.  Connie noted, "You two should be more health-minded." Then, seemingly out of the blue, Connie commented, "I'm not going to Vegas again unless we rent a car and drive to the Grand Canyon or one of the other national parks."

Cyndi added, "Richie you lost over two hundred dollars playing those dumb quarter slots."

"I thought you lost a hundred," said Robert.

"Why did you tell him that Richie?"

"I figured it out," said Cyndi happily, "when he started playing the nickel slots."

Robert piped in with a poker face, "Jeez, Richie, you should be more honest.”

"Richie's better at fiction," snapped Cyndi. "Isn't that right, Connie."

"Not always. Why, again, I did I marry you Rob, and not Richie? Seems to me you had a pretty good line," giggled Connie.

"Better than my brother's," intimated Robert coyly.

The four sat in a comfortable silence, each with a small known family smile relaxing on their faces. Finally, Connie spoke just above a whisper, "We each know who each is and who the other is not."

Uncharacteristically, Robert broke out into the laughter first. The others followed suit. Richard and Robert got out the card table and put it on the deck. Richard got the chairs. Connie pulled the deck of cards from the top right kitchen drawer. Cyndi put the fruit bowl away and picked up some beer and chips from the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon at the corner house was remembrances, fun and games.

***

         You are home after two hours puttering around town. Post. - Amorella

           2116 hours. Carol made a unique vegetable soup for supper and we cut into a fresh loaf of wheat bread bought today at the grocery’s bakery to go with it. We watched last night’s PBS's “Sherlock” and then NBC and ABC News. I completed Grandma 14 and am ready to drop it in the posting.

         You discovered some errors and may have created another so re-read it carefully in the morning. Add and post. – Amorella

***

(final) Grandma’s Story 14 ©2014, rho GMG.One

            I am standing on one of ridged Chinese mountain summits about five thousand feet high and a bit above an austere stone shelter where three people are spending their summer.

            Shushu is a rather pleasant young woman from one local tribe who usually has her own way. Her summer love is Ch’ang who is from an adjoining tribe. Her great aunt, Lili, shaman of both local tribes, is also on the summit. The stone hut is Lili’s for the summer months, and she invited Shushu and Ch’ang. Neither Shushu nor Ch’ang, are related except by love. Now, Lili knows a private love story of a different age in which both Shushu and Ch’ang are unknowingly connected. Here is Lili to tell to you this story.

            I am Lili of the mountains. I dance the mountain air to walk cloud tops when I dream of life now long ago to you, but not to me. It has been as twenty years of life, these two thousand of yours, that is how I sense it.

The two I am telling this private story about were dancers as I am. The particular summer of your long ago, I had begun an embroidery project with an emerald green backdrop. Something unpronounceable was in the air when I stared into the green silk cloth. My left foot touched something unseen, a stone I immediately dug up. The stone is unpronounceable in the summit air but it is Plenty and Bountiful, at least on its sharp edge. Understanding is a sense, like smell to an ancient shaman like myself.

            Shushu loves Ch’ang and she though can do something about this love she chooses to do nothing. Likewise, Ch’ang chooses to do nothing. Together the two become as a single room, like this shelter where Grandma and I, Lili, presently stand. To exert their separate personalities Shushu becomes a doorframe in the west wall while Ch’ang becomes a doorframe centered in the east wall. The river, two thousand feet below, runs from west to east. Two thousand feet above the river, love attempts to construct a bridge between the two doorframes.

As love is a condition it cannot build the bridge between the two stubborn friends. Hearts build bridges, not love. The walls of this stone shelter, the west wall and the east wall, are the rigidity in their hearts. The centered doorframes are the exacting souls of both Shushu and Ch’ang.

            Lili took a moment to smile then she suddenly transported herself to the center of the stone shelter where in her line of sight she can see through the two opposite doorframes at once. In life one cannot see through both doorframes at once due to the Nature of Things. In death one can sense the mark of the soul line.

            Each doorway is a Dragon of Plenty and Bounty. Each soul-framed doorway is equal. Each doorway is invisible in the Nature of Things. Each doorframe is invisible in the Nature of Things. Each wall is invisible in the Nature of Things. I, Lili am also invisible in the Nature of Things. Yet, as I am writing in Grandma Earth she is visible in the Nature of Things.


            This is what I, Lili, thought those many years ago and this is what I think today. I made my embroidery that summer. I am the small centered red dot. Shushu is the west dragon. Ch’ang is the east dragon. When a living human being stares at the red dot long enough sheorhe sees not a red dot, but the tip of the tail of me, Lili, the Red Dragon.

            It is then that the mirror image dragons, Shushu and Ch’ang, immediately form into one dragon. Shushu and Ch’ang become an illusion in one as do the heart-and-soul as do the doorframes but not the dragon’s door.


Grandma carefully steps down off the stone walled shelter of heartansoul and begins a little mountain jig. For time and not, those old black feet move like a river dance. Standing straight and tall those feet dance. Grandma's hands ridged on her hips as Grandma sings, “I move in human feet stomping. I dance in a Nature seen and unseen.” With that, Grandma jumps to a cloud top and Lili re-appeared. Both dance side by side until they are out of sight in the sky.


Cloud dancing with Grandma in the sorcerer’s dreams
Have a past and a future, without the difference.
Words dancing in stories with schematics on themes
Of balance and cadence and conscience and prudence.


***

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