Notes - Cessna P210N example / DP-1a /

           Mid-morning and you have been watching another YouTube video on take off only this time it is Pyl and Blake's 1978 Cessna P210N inherited from their father. This is a six passenger (three rows of seats) pressurized single prop aircraft.

Cessna P210N

Panel

Front Seats

2 back rows of seats

         This is an important plane to you because you first used it in your first unpublished novel, Anno Dominae. You chose it because it is a pressurized six seater and you had five passengers and the pilot flying through and over the Peruvian Andes Mountains. A trip similar to the one you and Carol took from Cuzco to Lima in a very antiquated DC-3 in 1971. In 1978 when you were writing the book you had a FAA official read over your work for authenticity as to how it would be climbing from the rear seat to the front to pilot and what the characteristics of the plane would be in such a flight (wide circle). The only thing he corrected you on was the placement of the fuel cap when you refueled.

         I really read up on the P210N. The one above is a 1978 model so I am familiar with it. I climbed into one at the Dayton Air Show back in 1982. The only small plane I ever flew in though was a Piper back in 1960. Steve G.'s uncle owned one and we flew from his farm southwest of Columbus up over above Westerville and returned to the farm runway. In my self-published Stuck I had a computer flight program and I virtually flew a Cessna (not the 210) from Chicago to Brasilia as it was part of the plot. I did speed up the flight but took off and landed at the designated airports along the way. I had the computerized pedals and yoke to make the piloting more authentic-like. So, even though I am not a pilot I do have some virtual experience. Authenticity where possible has always been very important to me in my writing. It is fun 'reliving' the imaginary experience flying Pyl and Blake's inherited (from their father) P210N. Justin will be sitting in the back. He knows nothing about flying and doesn't care to. Much of the perspective for this short return flight from Detroit City Airport to Burke Lakefront in Cleveland will be Justin's. They will now live in Cleveland in nearby Shaker Heights or Cleveland Heights as I am more familiar with this area. I realize all this preliminary stuff is just me getting my characters psyched, but this is what I do. 

         Post. - Amorella

         1601 hours. I just completed the first half of "Diplomatic Pouch", the human half.

         You are doing fine without my help, boy, but I'm here when needed. Drop it in and post. - Amorella

*** ***

Diplomatic Pouch - 1

         Pyl Burroughs sat straight and narrow upfront to the left of the pilot, her brother Blake, The second row seat behind Pyl had been taken out allowing thirty-three year old Justin to comfortably sit with sturdy legs stretched in front of the third row of cabin seats. With the engine in idle the three awaited runway departure instructions for take off from Detroit's old city airport to Burke Lakefront in Cleveland. "On the Road Again" had just begun playing in the background with interspersing interruption from the tower.

         Pyl turned excitedly, "Jus, what'd you think of the auto show?"

         "I liked it. I liked the new Ford Fusion the best."

         "I liked it too. Which one did you like best, Blakey."

         "Right now, I like the weather best. Sunny and mild, not bad for a third of the way through January."

         "Who would have thought we would fly to this year's show back in October," commented Justin.

         "Warm winter, so far," added Pyl somberly while thinking, if we ditch in the lake we'll have no ice to land on.

         Looking towards his brother-in-law Justin asked, "Isn't this a pretty old plane?"

         "Hey, the only thing we didn't add was leather seats. We should have never ordered these to begin with. They are over ten years old and I can't stand them."

         Pyl quietly reflected, when this plane was new Daddy had the best leather seats, then said, "Daddy loved this plane, didn't he Blakey?"

         Sighing in the upcoming air of redundancy he dryly commented, "Daddy loved this plane, Pyl. Being too kind, he added the roughage, "Dad truly loved this for the business it brought rather than pleasure it gave."

         Pyl cracked back, "We took a lot of family trips." She near silently grumbled, "No more kind Blakely, the butt is back."

         Justin perked at Pyl's freshly defensive tone. Never-ending squabbles. Never-ending family squabbles between these two. I don't know how their parents put up with it.

         Blake talking under breath, noted, "We are a go on 33."

         Justin leaned forward adjusting so he could watch the instrument needles fluttering and the worn but solid asphalt runway disappearing beneath the rotating three blade prop.

         An hour into their flight Blake and Justin were enjoying the quiet drown of the engine along with the darker blue above and the gray blue waters of Lake Erie thousands of feet below. Dusk around five, fancied Blake when the tip of the left wing lightly tapped something. Blake quickly adjusted and settled the flight.

         "Was it a bird?" asked Pyl cautiously.

         "Sounded like a new tire kicking up a stone," imagined Justin.

         Blake picked up the small binoculars for a quick inspection, "There's a crack near the wing tip light. Damn, I just paid fifteen hundred for those." His puffed lower lip and grumbling demeanor lead to another round of silence through the uneventfully and thus satisfactory landing at Burke an hour before dark.

         While Blake visually inspected the landing light held fiberglass wingtip more closely he observed a minute gray spongy substance within the slight crack, it was secondary to the fact that the crack appeared repairable for a lot less money than he had anticipated.

         "What is that?"

         "I don't know, Justin." Then after a pause, "probably bird gut."

         "Squeeze me out some," ordered Pyl. "I'll have it analyzed. I want to see what kind of bird it was."

         "What for?" moaned Justin. "Jeez."

         "Not much here, but get me something to put it in."

         A quiet stranger walked up to the wing and seemingly began inspecting the damage.

         Before her brother spoke, Pyl asked politely, "May I help you?"

         "I saw you coming in. I am interested in buying an old P210N like this one," commented the otherwise non-committal stranger.

         The woman has such an odd dialect, thought Justin. Noting her large dark Mediterranean eyes, he extended his hand and said, "I'm Justin. This is my wife, Pyl and that's her brother on the stool." 

***

         I have 664 words, and I'm enjoying this, words are very satisfying. We'll see how the second half, the marsupial half, goes.

Notes - morning thoughts / deletion of characters / Auto Show / flight

          0824 hours. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the start of World War II. I wonder when the Battle of Agincourt was? A quick check of Wikipedia Offline and . . .  it was Saint Crispin's Day, Friday, 25 October 1415. How could I not think of Shakespeare's famous Henry V's rousing speech to his men, his brothers-in-arms. The longbow was the weapon of choice, that and steady nerves, or so the story goes. A basic review of the battle and afterward arguments as to numbers of men on both sides can be found in Wikipedia. Will the discussions and arguments ever stop? If not devoid of these matters how long must the Dead be still on the subject of war? Any war will do. It is good the Dead cannot talk, there is enough noise in this world already, that's the crux of it.

         You are at the earthen dam at Pine Hill Lakes Park waiting on Carol to complete her round. There is a sparse blue sky showing surrounded by a petticoat of flattish gray to white layering of clouds.

         The quick over brushing of words repaints in more realistic tones. I will feel better when the novels' new foundations have replaced the cracks and crumbles in the old fortress that was not so mighty as I might at first have so secretly wished for - to make a small difference in having lived. Otherwise, what value is there in taking up more space by corralling and inhaling a life's worth of precious material goods here in this earth-centered place? That's my point.

         Carol finished her walk and you drove to McD's for cold drinks, talked to Kim in the process. Brennan is an inch and a half longer and maturing properly though he is still somewhat wobbly sometimes when sitting up, and Owen has been working on his potty training so he can wear his new brightly colored Lightning McQueen underwear. He also told you the ABC's and counted to twelve over the phone so he is quite proud of himself. You will drive up Saturday morning as they have a social gathering and dinner (attendance is expected) at the Clinic main campus Saturday night.

         You returned from your drinks and worked on weed killing the yard and flower gardens. Carol is watering plants as so far there has been no rain (Kim said there was plenty in Cleveland). You are going out again to read in the shade before it becomes too hot and muggy. We can return to work on "Pouch-2" after you do another quick cleanup of "Pouch-1". Post. - Amorella

         Writing, even re-writing is such a joy.

         Carol had a bad insect bite reaction and you headed for the pharmacy for medicines needed. She took two Benadryl tablets and you rubbed Hydrocortisone cream on the bite area that has an redness expanded to three inches in circumference around the raised quarter inch sized bite on the right side of her mid-back. She thinks it is a spider bite. There is no question she had an immediate reaction. The pharmacist at Kroger's said that she would have some relief and if not to head to a nearby an urgent care facility for further treatment.

         Home. Carol is resting and you are using "Fragment A" of Pouch Text - 4 in the original to reinforce Friendly's memory of first meeting Mexito.

         1507 hours. I have been creating two documents, one that has the marsupial story chapters 1-13; and the other has the human story chapters 2-21. The two stories do not come together until chapters 13 and 14 in the original BD.

         As I have spent an hour or so going over this original material I realize that it may appear to the reader to have been on some sort of mind-bending trip. How could I possible have put a story like this together? So many details and compounded characters with a plot lost in 'what is this all about, I cannot possibly follow it' thinking. And, this is only one section; two other sections are also in each chapter. I cannot possibly leave either the humans or marsupials out of the story, as both are essential to the whole of the trilogy. I think I need a nap.

         First, we do this. Focus on chapters one through fourteen. Once we connect chapter fifteen through twenty-one will be reworked. Let's begin by reconstructing for the first three chapters. Check the number of words for each in the first five chapters and see what we have. - Amorella

         Okay. I am setting up the first two chapters, as one is marsupial and the other human. They have to be combined. I need a vehicle in which to do this, a transition. Should I reduce the words to about five hundred for each?

         Sounds like a plan, orndorff. Work on that. Find a dividing place for each as is then we can work from there. - Amorella

         1551 hours. I don't see how this is going to work. The Marsupials have 771 words. Do I reduce the Humans to about the same and go from there?

         It will be easier if you reduce characters to six total. - Amorella

         Friendly has to be one and Yermey has to be another.

         Make it Hartolite for Yermey's sake. - Amorella

         This is so hard, Amorella. I have three marsupials.  I need Pyl and Justin.

         They are a couple. Let it go with that. Begin deleting the others and see what we have: chapters one and two only.- Amorella

         1619  hours. This is not going to work. The most important setting is the HomePlanets and the marsupials. I can go with the three but then what about Pyl, Justin and Blake. Cut the artifact.

         What about Hartolite and Blake? You need a lead in to the romance between Pyl and Yermey. No twin earth. They come on their own to warn the earth of its possible impending doom according to their own prophets. - Amorella

         This will all have to be reworked.

         You have plenty of material to make use of. - Amorella

         I will have to think on it.

         I will simplify the story and give the reader something to think about along the way. - Amorella

         How will they meet?

         They will meet in the second chapter. Let's get through the first chapter first. Post. - Amorella

         1744 hours. Graeter's for a treat about an hour ago. Half a ham and cheese sandwich for supper. I will have to focus on how this Pouch is going to go plot-wise. I hate to drop characters but this needs to balance with the other chapter sections. I'm curious as to how it will turn out. I had never thought about Blake having a romance with Hartolite. I'm already literally scratching the top of my head in contemplation.

         We are at square one. Friendly is commander in firm control. Hartolite is her good friend and companion who made a secret study of human behavior and its cultural histories for ThreePlanets. Both would like a night with Yermey, one of the brightest individuals on ThreePlanets. He won't put up with either one of the women no matter how hard they try to control and seduce him. Their purpose for visiting Earth though is of a higher nature.

         Both live and work in northwest Chicago. Justin is a physic professor at a small private university like Case-Western . Pyl is at a history professor at a nearby liberal arts state university the size of Kent State. Both have an interest in classical Greek archeology, he for the social design of the architecture and she for the art and the philosophy it promotes. Their most recent adventure in the field was visiting and studying Pompeii for two months. The year before they were at Machu Picchu. - Amorella        

          I will have to think on this.

         1921 hours. It is unreasonable for Friendly to land in Chicago because of the large population. They have to have reason or accident to run into Pyl, Blake and Justin. Why not someplace in Bolivia between La Paz and Puno?

         1958 hours. I have been searching Google Earth and came across Tiahuanaco which Carol and I visited in 1972 via a taxi to catch the train from Puno, Peru to Cusco.

         Why not have Justin, Blake and Ply sitting at the kitchen table talking about making a return trip to the region? - Amorella

         Sounds reasonable for last April.

         They are anticipating an adventure, but it is not the one they are going to get. - Amorella

         I would rather have a reasonable or a serendipitous meeting than one purely accidental.

         How about the three of them in the Cessna flying from Detroit to Cleveland and they strike Ship with blackanot ON?- Amorella

         Good idea, Amorella.

         First "Pouch-2" begins with them leaving a small airport in Detroit while heading back to Lakefront. They have the trip discussion on the way.

         January 14 through the 22, 2012 was the Detroit Auto Show.  I have the schedule of events, facts, etc.

         Have fun. Post. - Amorella

         2156 hours. I took off virtually from Detroit City Airport and landed at Burke Lakefront in Cleveland via YouTube flights - both in Cessna planes. The weather in Detroit on January 10 was good - mild and clear for flight. Pumped.  (full landing and take off from both airports video recorded in real time by pilots on YouTube - so awesome)

         You like to get into the spirit of the adventure as much as you can. Post. - Amorella

Notes - unrealized preplanning / riding the wonderland rails / Prologue redone

         You are at the earth dam parking at Pine Hill waiting for Carol to complete her walk. Mid-morning. Your blood pressure was in yellow on the low side today, highly unusual for you: 108/52. For the last four days it has been in the full green. This appears to annoy Carol more than yourself.

         The 52 mark is lower than it has ever been. I looked it up but there are always variables so it is hard to tell. I have not been dizzy though and I don't feel like I am going to faint. Lightly cloudy and very humid and it is supposed to rain this afternoon and evening so Carol is out earlier than usual. A banana, teaspoon of peanut butter and a small glass of skim milk for breakfast is all I needed this morning. Quite a few walkers out this morning, about half with dogs in tow.

         Here's what we'll do on "Pouch-2", we'll take what you have and put it together beginning with the marsupials as that is where we left off. Let's go to it. - Amorella

         1426 hours. I have been reworking "Pouch-2" and the conclusion of "Pouch-1". It had not occurred to me how much the metaphysical rules I learned to accept in August were going to effect the changes in telling the story better with a less complicated series of separate focuses. The Soki presently rests in the soul of Friendly where sheanhe can draw memories from her heartanmind to fill in the reader. No need for a 'writing machine' and notes from the first trip to Earth in 1988. The reader jumps into Friendly's heart and can hear for herorhis self how those 1988 event were, at least to Friendly the marsupial humanoid.

         You see, good pre-planning is important in writing such a strongly metaphysical (spiritual) work on human consciousness. Post. - Amorella

       I didn't even realize I was going to do a rewrite of the trilogy at that time of the metaphysical lessons, at least not consciously.


        Thus my humor, the Amorella humor, continues boy.  

        1611 hours. We each had a small steak dinner with salads at Outback, very satisfying, plus we split a delicious carrot cake for dessert. What a way to get your added veggies!

         On the way home you decided to stop at the north end of Pine Hill Lakes Park for some added reading time. Carol has the latest Time, arriving in today's mail. As you will see speaking from the heartanmind is easy for Friendly because she has invested so much of herself in the project to save the earthlings. Soki will have a different slant on how all this happened even though the story already shows heranhim arriving after the fact. You will find the Soki does not at first realize this is a twin dimensional Earth. This allows the ready to quickly understand the Soki is not omniscient or even angelic as far as that goes. I am placing his setting in my territory. The audience never has to understand this, but you have to see that the story is still about you even though you don't wish it to be, particularly for those of your own or like species. Too much ego, you think, put in the stylistic intent you are divesting yourself. I need you to be consciously cognizant of this existential circumstance. - Amorella

         There is already a developing subtlety to this revising business beyond my own conscious abilities. I am in the thicket of consciousness as a bit or wave, as it were; similar entanglement as to what Merlyn is in. In this case consciousness like thought is a body of sorts, a particle or wave of circumstantial entity, a spiritual-like self-identity.

         This needs to be made clear in the Prologue. We are showing the "magic" of old Merlyn for what it is, the "magic" of the human heartansoulanmind; the "magic" of the human spirit. - Amorella

         I am beginning to really get into this, Amorella. This is so much clearer and thus cleaner in my thinking than five years ago.

         The clearness comes from seeing yourself as you better fit as an outsider in Merlyn's magical storybook environment. Let's continue to work on this chapter and also work on and complete the next making sure everything is basically connected as an introduction to what human consciousness is in the early twenty-first century. - Amorella

         We are working out the bugs, the translation, Merlyn so that nothing is lost on the reader. What a wonderful sense of insight into the basic human condition you allow me even in a fiction. Thank you.

         The best kind of human imagination is still needed boy. These works are not being written for the faint of heartanmind. Post upon returning home. - Amorella

         I suddenly feel I am high-riding the wonderland rails, Amorella.

         Indeed you do, young man, indeed you do. - Amorella

         2317 hours. I have completed a second draft of the Prologue.

         Post and go to bed, orndorff. - Amorella

*** ***

Braided Dreams II

The Exploration of Consciousness

By

Richard H. Orndorff

***

         Major selections of this experimental work are under the Richard H. Orndorff copyright: 2001, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, and 2012. All events, themes, persons, characters and plot are the invention of the author.

***

Dedication

This book is dedicated to each of my former students and to the many trusted colleagues with whom I taught for thirty-seven years. The schools are: Magnetic Springs School, Magnetic Springs, Ohio; Whitehall-Yearling High School, Columbus, Ohio; Escola Graduada de Såo Paulo (The Graded School), Såo Paulo, Brazil; Indian Hill High School, Cincinnati, Ohio; and William Mason High School, Mason, Ohio. You know who you are, which is a good thing because I do not do so well with proper names, including my own sometimes. Nevertheless, with a smile and a tip of my well-worn black beret, I wish you well.

***

Acknowledgments

Many of the legendary and historical names and historical settings; the romantic and neo-classical concepts; and the scientific convictions and theoretical plausibility’s can be found throughout the refreshment of personal memory sparked by the kind volunteer contributors and readers within Wikipedia.

         I thank my life partner Carol, daughter Kim and son-in-law, Paul for their diligence and patience, for which I also continue my thank-you's to my good friends and first readers: Alta and Craig, Angie, Bob, Cathy and Tod, Doug, Fritz, Gary, Jeanne and Jim, Kim and Paul, Laney, and Pat and Ernie for their patience and original criticisms.

I especially thank my dear old friend and literary thinking colleague of forty years, the late Thomas Robert Pringle, for his continued friendship and for his permission to use two of his previously published poems: “Nature Junkie” and “Transplant Waiting Room, Children’s Hospital” in this novel.

         Also, this is a special thank you for my two most independent Muses.

         The writer within is Amorella; during these last twenty-five years she has continued to help, advise and teach me to better communicate through writing. The objective of this updated fiction is to be intellectually stimulating and entertainingly clear.

                                    Richard H. Orndorff

                                    September 2012

***

Prologue

         The Dead and The Living tell tales. I, Merlyn, am dead and living in this, Braided Dreams II and the next two works, Running Through II and Merlyn's Mind II. If being dead and alive at once appears to be a contradiction, think of Erwin Schrodinger's 1935 thought experiment about a cat that is half a cat living and half a cat dead according to the physics of quantum entanglement. This novel suggests being dead and alive is indeed a shared event if one assumes the soul; the immortal container of the human spirit exists independently of our physical bodies. We living beings with heartsansoulsanminds are like Schrodinger's famous cat in that we beings are humanity sealed within physical containers.

         This existential circumstance is an entanglement of our earthly sensibilities and reality with basic human will and its hopes, dreams, imagination, freethinking that raise us into the higher senses of being and consciousness. If one feels a human being does not hold an immortal spirit, a heartansoulanmind that may survive physical death, why then is our human nature built to learn and mature into an ever greater sense of being conscious both individually and collectively?

         What good does it do us to imagine a better future for our descendents? What good is our individual and collective human will to continue surviving as a species for these last twenty thousand years?

         I, Merlyn the Bard, am more aware of life being dead. I have brushed up against another species' immortal souls containing the heartsanminds. These marsupial humanoid spirits evolved in a three-planet system that rotates around a single yellow star such as our own on the other side of the Milky Way Galaxy.

         Their species, Marsupialis sapiens, is culturally twenty thousand years ahead of us Homo sapiens. This makes no difference in terms of our immortal spirits; when we physically die we both go to the same Place of the Dead, a dimension of individual and communial consciousness I call HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither.

         If you want to feel, to understand Merlyn's real magic, find this magic within your innermost immortal core, the heartansoulanmind, as I did when living in sixth century Scotland. This self-humanity, this core, is the only thing the Marsupialis and Homo sapiens carry when passing from the physical realms. It is imagination that directs me to name the Place of the Shared-Species Dead HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither. You can name it what you will.

          The individual heartansoulanmind decides how to exist in each drop of consciousness with or without the benefit of time and space. I am no exception to this seeming paradox of existing within our humanity, within our sense of the metaphysical and physical, and neither are you. 

         Those who feel their spirit will not survive physical death are certainly entitled to keep those beliefs just as others may hold to their own personal beliefs. However, many aspects of human reality are continually found to be beyond belief. Read the written histories of individuals and our species and come to your own conclusions. That's what being dead may be eventually, coming to a conclusion of consciousness. No one really knows on either side of this once great divide.

Merlyn, the once sixth century Scottish bard

*** ***