Mid-morning. You are concerned with your
ramblings on last night’s posting. You have gotten so that when you write it is
straight out of your head with no personal blockings. What bothers you is that
you are normally a very quiet, almost shy person and many times in
conversations you have something to say but choose not to because it is nothing
is new under the sun (in my thoughts) so I’ll just shut up and let the others
continue on. This morning you sent out an apology to Nancy Z. for your email
ramblings from last week. Again, your thoughts were automatically sent to your
fingertips, and you mentioned to her that what you should have done is edit by
deletion before sending. As you see this as a problem I will help you with it. –
Amorella
1026 hours. Thank you, Amorella. Rattling on brings out
both pride and arrogance, matters I dislike along with exploitation. I dislike
aspects of humanity – the seven deadly sins, I suppose. I can’t believe the
marsupial humanoids were bought off so easily. I think I did not have a clear
concept of what the Merlyn books were really presenting. These books are going
to have to be better sorted through.
Late
mid-afternoon. You are waiting for Carol at Kroger’s on Mason-Montgomery Road
and you have other errands in the area before heading home. Your inclination is
to work on Brothers 15 but you are not sure how close Carol is to completing
her buying. Earlier your sister Cathy called and you are meeting for lunch
tomorrow at 101Beer Kitchen near the corners of Sawmill Road and Hard Street in
Dublin. Joe M., your niece’s (Cathy’s daughter Jenny) husband is managing chef. You are
delighted to see the restaurant earns four and one half stars on UrbanSpoon. –
Amorella
1638 hours. We are in front of Lowe’s where Carol is
picking up more birdseed. The sun just arrived. Very nice. We watched two programs
“NCIS LA” and “Person of Interest” while we ate leftovers for lunch, I finished
up the meatloaf and had a salad as did Carol with added cheese and crackers. I
am glad I write these things down because in doing so I am reminded of what is
important at the time, what we do everyday is mostly who we are.
You are home and have put out the birdseed
in front and side yards. Later, dude. – Post. - Amorella
1738 hours. I completed Brothers 15. I think it needs
some transition along the way though.
Then fix it. – Amorella
1747 hours. It’s fixed. Partly the problem was me, I
misread the segment.
Add and post. – Amorella
***
(final)
The Brothers 15 ©2014, rho GMG.One
Robert and Richard walked out of the
hardware store at the south end of town and took a late morning drive following
road with lots of woods and farms interspersed with new crops of housing
divisions interspersed among old farms and cow pastures. Interrupting the
silence Robert asked, “What were we talking about early yesterday?” asked
Robert.
“I don’t know. You mean end of the
world scenarios?”
“Yeah.”
“I have no idea.”
Robert continued, “I think it was
about the end of the world as we know it.”
“Maybe that was after dinner.”
“Could be.” Robert paused. “What do
you think? What about today? If it’s not a plague it is a nuclear accident in
my book.”
"I think we could stop a plague
and I can't imagine it would take more than fifty nuclear weapons to wipe out
almost eight billion people. It might even take fewer.”
"What about global
warming?" commented Robert, "you used to think that was the most
likely scenario to eventually do us in."
“Or crazed aliens,” smirked Richard.
"H. G. Well's War of
the Worlds and Rachel Carson's
Silent Spring; it's been
said long ago, Dickie. Let's pull in here at the reservoir and watch the
water." In a moment they had stopped the car and were observing the
relatively quiet of nearby natural world in the park.
"I don't like to think on
negative outcomes." He paused, "I mean it doesn't take much thought
to come up with a whole series of natural or alien disasters."
"So, our species will continue
as we have, muddling through the centuries and millenniums," snickered
Robert.
Richard shrugged his shoulders while
looking at the seagulls and deadpanned "most likely outcome; unless of
course we are struck by a meteorite or comet."
"Yeah, like the one in Russia
last year. I think they call them 'city killers'."
"The chances of a meteor hitting
a city of any size is pretty slim."
Rob responded, "Somebody is
probably writing for a government grant to save us." Both sniggered.
Depression hovered low, drifted down and sat between them in the Jaguar.
After ten some wordless minutes
Robert grumbled, "Time to head back." And in their quietest twin
natures they drove Connie's classic home.
At home Connie, Cyndi, Robert and
Richard were sitting at the kitchen table drinking bottled and flavored diet
ice tea and munching from a medium sized common stainless steel mixing bowl
more than half full of assorted finger sized carrot and celery sticks with a
few ice cubes thrown in for residual crispness.
Robert began, "Richie and I were
discussing how the world will survive this relatively new century and the
question came up, 'Are women naturally better leaders for these days and times
than men?'
Cyndi's eyes narrowed slightly,
"So, Richard, what did you say to Robbie's question?"
Knowing they hadn’t brought this up
at all, Richard shrugged his shoulders in resignation, "I said it would be
better if we brought this up with you two."
Connie quickly responded,
"First, we two get along with each other better than you two."
"You two maybe, but I've seen a
couple of down and out cat fights in my time," declared Richard.
"Leaders are strong decisive
individuals though, in the operating room . . ."
"We are talking about political
leaders, Rob, where people have to work together more socially."
"Like Congress and the White
House," added Connie. "You know, with the majorities of men in both
camps.
"Men run empires. Look at
history. Where are all the women emperors . . ."
"All this bickering,"
declared Robert softly. "Of the four of us who are the more reasonable day
in and day out?"
Connie snapped her reply, "Cyndi
and I. What a stupid question, Robert. Who runs the houses, who does the
chores, which of us are more mature and responsible in our day to day
living?"
"Which two of us have always
been more responsible on the home front, day in and day out?"
Quiet reigned.
Robert was about to say, "What
are we having for lunch?" He didn't, but a sheepish smile perked slightly.
"Why don't we go out to
lunch?" suggested Cyndi politely.
"Good idea,” responded Rob, “where
do you want to go?"
"I don't know. Where do you want
to go?"
"Somehow this conversation
sounds very familiar," commented Richard.
"Let's sit silently until we can
come to an agreement,” stated Connie.
So they did.
***
2155 hours. I tweaked Grandma 15. Honestly I don’t know what else
to do with it.
Add and post, boy. – Amorella
***
( final) Grandma’s Story 15 ©2014,
rho G.M.G.One
Old Grandma has chosen to tell a Mayan love story. Time is one of
the major characters off stage, just like real life. Timing is everything.
Solstice was and is important in Maya observances of Earth because of Zenial
passage observations that are possible only in the tropical zones.
This story takes place approximately twenty one hundred years ago
when the dark rift in the Milky Way was some thirty degrees above the dawning
winter solstice sun.
'Twenty-one hundred years ago in Central America, I was disguised
as an old woman walking, I spied two people making love under the broad-leafed
bushes and a cacao tree near both their homes.'
Grandma shook her head thinking, 'the physical passion people put
up with. People don’t normally know Grandma takes a peek every now and then
when the intensity has built up like it has with these two. I am also in
humanity’s most naked nature. People like to imagine being alone or with an
intimate companion or two in private.'
Grandma looked to the reader, 'you can be private with your
nature, honey-child, but you is never alone with your body. Heartansoulanmind,
the invisible world of the human spirit, is always with you.
Grandma
continued, 'Love puts the body to more work than it is sometimes used to.
People get exhausted being in love. Some would just rather die happy in bed I
guess. That is the way it is for Tapachula, who is hotter than a summer storm
and Izapa who is normally cold and pyramidal-like except when he is with his
Tapachula. She heats up and he cools down. He heats up and she cools down. These
two were just like the weather wildness. You just never can tell how it is
going to be from one minute to the next. A low pressure hits a high and
something is going to move. Since one is usually high when the other is low,
someone is always jiggling the other. One morning when they had already been at
it several times, trying to get the timing right, and something unforeseen took
over, basic competition. These human bodies had suddenly
taken on a combined personal life of physical endurance.
What a way to go. Who is going to die of exhaustion first?
Tapachula’s brain is reasoning, ‘Impending doom, a natural disaster is upon us
I can just feel it. I can outlast this man, and if I can’t I’ll have to hand it
to him to find a way to do me in first. I already have a plan if I outlive my
Izapa. I will bed the first one that comes down the road until one of us dies
and will keep doing so until I’m done in. What a way to go. What a way to go.
What-a-way, what-a-way, what-a-way to go.
Tapachula's
logic is not completely consistent, but logic is something you might bed on but
not sleep with. That is when I, Grandma, decided to step up from the body
physics to the mindanheart for a change of pace.
From
deep within Tapachula's mindanheart Grandma whispered as consciousness might
alone, “No prophecy is really true, child. No matter
what any one or more human being utters it. Human beings can neither know their
own nor their world's future, but they can learn to understand the logic within
it.”
As Tapachula and Izapa's bodies clasped tight in a holy-like
climax, Grandma heard them both think in unison: "This natural disaster is
built into me too, Grandma. What
should we do?"
“Remember what and who you really are so you can balance the
beam,” suggested Grandma.
What are the beam and the balance?" asked Izapa and
Tapachula.
“The beam is in your intelligence,” answered Grandma. “And the
balance is in your wisdom.” And with that, the once old woman with the walking
stick disappeared in the expended passions of the lovers' bodily perspiring
fervor.
Arms and legs in loosening entanglement, Tapachula and Izapa
blinked and together said aloud, “We were in an enchantment.”
The
sweetness in their minds leaves but a lingering thought,
Of
what the world may become and what has been wrought.
***
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