For the last few years I have watched couples drink too much and get into amazing public fights over the holidays and have been glad that I don't drink and I don't have anyone to fight with.
Maybe killing off badgers permits the rat population to increase. I suspect it is easier for rats to get in among the cattle and their feed to carry bovine TB than badgers.
17 years and 22 years. One older than I, the other younger.
I really don't think age matters (as long as it falls in legal territory), it is all about how well one can communicate and how you get on. I have known some very immature older men and very well-centered youngsters.
Right now he is pretty miffed at me, I let him out to play outside( he threw a tantrum to make me open the door) and he came back with an amazing number of fleas. So we are having decontamination day.
No doubt I will have a lot to say about it in the blogs later!!
I just recently cancelled my account as it was just sitting on my desk top unvisited. Found it non-intuitive and also not very interesting altjhough I probably did not give it a fair shot at engaging me.
You will no doubt be delighted to know I am plotting on how to keep Furball despite all rules to the contrary.
It occurred to me that as I have five or six of the neighborhood strays visiting me at regular intervals for affection and food one more may just go unnoticed...
Emails and phone calls go unanswered. If they see yopu coming on the street they cross to the other side or look around wildly for somewhere to dash into...I have found these to be good signs of avoidance.
Sun struggles to the surface through the heavy weight of cloud folded in the east; night’s comforter discarded, leaving sky to shiver in pale grey, unwarmed by pink, an image that Chanel took from the world and splashed across the catwalks of high fashion while cats themselves wear stripes and spots, harsh smudges of bright colour putting carnival to shame; the click of horse’s hooves is subtle, unexpected in the half light of this pallid morning but not frightening like the brazen crash and clash of iron on the road, at midnight, coming round the corner in the dark, gleam of moon on chestnut, bay and silver wild hunt of horses on the run; Landscape shimmers as the light grows taking on the well remembered lines of daytime, written with a strong hand that erases all the secrets coaxed out in the sable slink of night to dance and ply their passions in the ersatz shelter of the dark. Dawn is stronger, golden syrup spreading out across the cane fields oozing through the spaces where the wind has teased the curtains back to let in air, now light streams across the tile toward me, first hug of the day.
I wish you all a life filled with hugs. Good morning.
It's half past dawn, and sleep is torn reluctant from my arms as birds flee shrieking from the feral cats pretending to be grass; eyes ache, unwilling to be open, craving dark to soothe the mind relinquishing the sweet cocoon of dreams that turns to smoke as light comes in the portals of the soul to drag me out of heaven into day, six hours early. I need to sleep; on Fridays I live always in tomorrow and waking now will break me on the wheel of 3 a.m. low ebb of life force when I need to sizzle on the airwaves the voice that whispers promises of dawn of new beginnings in that hour when souls will pack their suitcase and sadness brings its sorry court to order as broken hearts seem shattered ever after until they hear the song that weaves the threads creating patches strong in hope and healing that makes the coming day a flower, not a tomb.
Strangest place I ever slept was on a grave during hazing week. Apparently I wasn't much fun because I simply curled up and went to sleep.
My favorite place to sleep is a supersized bed with a featherbed, like sinking into a cloud. Don't get to do it very often so I settle for my bed, spacious, firm, canopied with a mosquito net just in case.
I don’t remember taking off my shoes the door is there, I came right through, I kissed the cat and tea is made so I must have boiled the kettle; the day has stretched its hours behind me, some moments filed, some lost and some on tape but each one lived at break neck speed unlike my Caribbean self, the one who dances to the music in her head or on the street, a languid creature spinning time into a carousel of moments full of flow and ebb, a tidal pool of passions flaring and subsiding as I saunter through the time that is my life, my day; my heartbeat surging to the primal pull embedded in the crannies of the universe that I call home. Night fell, my arms were there to catch it, to swing the subtle folds of dark around my shoulders, breathing in the fragrance of the shadows as they swirled down to my feet and somehow swept my shoes right to the middle of the floor, abandoned neatly in my passing from my work day to the clinging rush of home at last.
Just there, so close our auras fuse, lips sweet surrender to the thought of being conquered; slight flush of blood as heart beats faster, a gentle gleam of moisture on an indrawn breath that pulls you draws you coaxes you to a slight lean forward, contact conflagration kissing is the ultimate seduction.
bajanblue Forum Posts (3,724)
RE: The Dark Dayz of Singeldom is ahead...
For the last few years I have watched couples drink too much and get into amazing public fights over the holidays and have been glad that I don't drink and I don't have anyone to fight with.I do miss having a dancing partner though.