Lovely time snowcation

My sister and her entourage came up Friday night. What a good time. Sledding, walks, skiing, movies and food. Tiny house loved being full. I enjoyed a three day weekend away from work. Life is good.

Year End

The snow is accumulating.
It looks airbrushed where it covers moved snow.
My front slope below my house and above fifth street resembles a paused rolling boil.
Pathways are beginning to look like a maze.
A hedgerow in white.

Two roof lines meet in a dense and dangerous collision.
The thick mass of ice underneath snow, hovers in space.
As the snow creeps in a slow slide the fresh layers on top meet with the melt from the heat of my house.
Stalactite spikes and tails drip.
The spikes curl and point stiff fingers at me as I stare from behind the window.

The snow and ice seem suspended in time.
A sharp contrast to the rush of end of days at year end.
Each day comes quickly to a close and fades into the background.
Beautiful glare.
I wince as I gaze out the window.
Searching, reading, writing to find where the year has gone.

Merry Christmas

With a tail as big as a kite. No North star to be seen tonight. But the moon has made an appearance.

A blanket in solid white rolls and plunges, it rests heavy over yards and on the green boughs of towering pines. A white Christmas in Roslyn. Snoqualmie Pass reopened today after being closed for two days.

13 Seconds

What can be done in thirteen seconds?

Set the timer  on the microwave... What can you get done in thirteen seconds...

Blow your nose.
Wash a pan.
Unwrap and eat a piece of chocolate.

Eight seconds is required to ride a bull and it seems like a lifetime. Rocketed in the air wearing tight blue Lee's, boots and a cowboy hat. The crowd watches in slow motion as a arm held high in the air balances the man as he rolls and thrusts on top of an angry bucking bull.

Last night we paid sixty dollars to watch Conor McGregor get his long awaited title fight. Thirteen seconds it took him to take it from the twelve year reigning champ Jose Aldo. 

He crouched low on all fours on the white floor of the octagon, stretching. His ass clad in tight shorts in green rocked back and forth in front of the audience. The tattoo that runs down his spine rolls and slithers. The fighters quickly move to the center of the ring. No time for the fancy leg acrobats just solid punches. Fast, hard throws. Conor reels from a clip to the head as his left punch lands in that sweet spot. Jose drops to the mat. Tap. Tap. Two more head shots and the match is called.

McGregor is the winner. We sit stunned and speechless on the couch for brief seconds.

Pasta and Bitches

Been a long week. The aftermath of Black Friday and Cyber Monday. I could hardly stand to work today. I wanted to go to the library book sales and craft fair. I took some time off and did those things because I'm tired of angry nagging bitches.

Last one of the day was the worst. Michelle in Detroit hella pissed over some goddamn lipgloss. Thankful that I did not have Charlotte the crazy pregnant woman threatening for days to kill people.
Sometimes I just want to say 'what in the hell is wrong with you' that you think you need to talk to people in that way over a thing. A thing like lip gloss.

Peeps get all up in arms over their kids being picked on, bullied and such. Well listen to yourself for a change on the phone to customer service. People up in arms over shootings, massacres.
Listen to yourself talk to others. Most people are not nice to other people, we want life to be fair and nice but its not. We are all mean to each other its human nature to be cruel, mean and hurtful. I don't care how nice you are. We are all mean.

Yep...In a bad mood, but like I said left early and went to the book sale. I got some great stuff. A book on the Puget Sound, one on baths. (Remember the last blog.. Merlin in the Roman bath with Amelia).. yeah a cool book on the history of baths in hardback for a dollar. For an idea percolating in my head for yet another book.

I got a Nora Roberts that I haven't read set on Orcas Island and another one I wanted to have for my personal library. Picked up a few gifts for Christmas and then felt a bit better to try and finish the day at work. Nick is making Pasta for dinner. Fettuccine. I needed some comfort food. Bitches will be getting worse in the month to come. 

Hadrians Wall

125 AD Chester’s Fort, Britannia

 

It’s quiet when I leave the bed of my husband. I fear to wake him. Yet he sleeps hard and deep. A soldier cutting stone to build a wall, he is exhausted daily.  The most Northern point of the Roman Empire and commanded to build a wall.  His anger is brittle unlike the gray stone he chisels. His rage would be unequaled if he found that I have forsaken him for a Brittunculi.  A cruel slur for the people of the island we conquered.

Near the door I take off my fine gold filigreed betrothal ring and place it in a bowl. It states my name and a plea to God, a small prayer that Amelia may live. I slip on my sandals. The leather is cool and smooth upon my feet as I walk away from our house. The house sits outside Hadrian’s Wall not within. In a village below the gates and fort, it is filled with artisans, a butcher and soldiers.

There is a guard on the wall above me but I slip past him unnoticed in the dark shadows. I walk to the bathhouse. A thing of beauty to make us Romans fill at home and warm after leaving the Mediterranean weather. Inside the high stone ceilings and walls are painted white and embellished with art. In this room painted dolphins with cherubs upon their backs soar above me. Alcoves are built within the walls with windows to look out at the lush green land, saturated with rain.

The moon shines through the skylights illuminating my way. I slip my sandals off and pull my dark blue nightdress over my head. My long hair cascades with the movement and tickles my back as it swings across it. The floors are heated. My unclad feet inhale the floors warmth as I cross the room. I step down into the tub recessed in the floor. The water so warm, embraces me and my toes sting with the heat.

He waits for me in the water. The arms of a Pict heavily tattooed in woad darkened to indigo surround me. His hands brush my hips and my stomach. Ahhhh I moan as he cups my breasts with his dark hands. He is magic my Merlin. His hands and tongue are enchanted.

“Leave with me.” He whispers in my ear and I shiver as his tongue travels down delicately from below the back of my ear to the pulse at the base of my neck.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” I reply in a desperate whisper.

Through the forest below the towering fifteen foot wall they chase us. Merlin grips my hand tightly as we run. One sandal catches in the soft clay near a sacred Oak. A pull, a hard tug and the leather band between my toes snaps.  I nearly fall with the freedom and the pull of his hand. The shoe must stay behind I have no time. I pull the other off my foot and carry it in my free hand as we race west to outrun the wall.

Need I say more.. its that time again.

Nanowrimo..

Please stand by...