Neither Snow Nor Rain

Turkeys in Winter.

Forget that this post is being published in May. Just go with it.

Ah, turkeys in winter.

A glorious lot of them.

Making a mess in our backyard.

Turkeys, wonderful creatures that they are, have no knowledge of sanitation.

We venture forth, seed offerings in hand, they gather, …

And poop.

Indiscriminantly.

We say, “Hey, human walking here.”

And they respond, “Gobble, gobble,” and after a moment’s deliberation, “Gobble!”

Enjoy.

 

Ruminations Part I – “Your eyes are completely healed”

Two weeks and a day ago (as this gets published) my ophthalmologist, after spending half an hour prepping me for observation then another half-hour observing, sat back and said “Your eyes are completely healed.”

For those who don’t know, I was born blind and have had limited eyesight most of my life. Starting four years ago what eyesight I had was diminishing rapidly. I had to get new eyeglass lenses roughly every two months and the lenses had to be specially made due to the complexity of my optics (usually took 4-6 weeks), hence I’d get a pair of lenses and a week later have to order new ones.

We debated surgery. My ophthalmologist reserved it for a final option because, as he said, “Once we cut, we can’t go back.”
Continue reading “Ruminations Part I – “Your eyes are completely healed””

Terry Melia and Joseph Carrabis chat with screenwriter, indie filmmaker, and producer Brooks Elms

Brother author Terry Melia asked me to sit in on an interview for The Shadow Project’s author series.

What…are you crazy? Miss a chance to talk with Terry? (if you haven’t read his Tales from the Greenhills, do so, now. Understand? Now! NOW, GODDAMMIT!)

 
Terry and I had a great chat with Brooks Elms. Quite informative and entertaining. Give it a watch and let us know what you think.

Search Chapter 8 – Saturday, 12 Jan 1974

Search is loosely based on a real incident. The incident remains, the story is greatly different.

Enjoy. And remember, it’s still a work in progress. These chapters are rough drafts. I’ve completed thirty chapters so far and it seems I’ll complete the novel this time. We’ll see.

Read Search Chapter 7


 

Search Chapter 8 – Saturday, 12 Jan 1974

Stephanie sipped hot chocolate from a mug her mother left in the dish drainer by the sink. Cute little thing. Had a funny little stream image on it, the kind that changed as you moved the cup around. “Jeri’s coming over with a friend this morning.”Pam sipped coffee standing at the sink and looked out the back window. Their house’s shadow outlined the demarcation of cold and warmth, frost and mist, on their back lawn. “That’s nice.”

Bill came in from the garage. “What’s nice?”

Pam continued watching the line of cold and warmth slip away. “We’re having guests.”

“Jeri’s bringing over a friend. He may be able to help find Ed and Tom.”

Bill, in the middle of pouring a cup of coffee, put his half filled cup down and turned to her. Pam, cup clenched in her hands at chest level, spun to face her daughter. “You didn’t say that.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Gio. Gio Chance.”

Pam turned back to the window. “What kind of name is that, Gio Chance?”

“His name’s really John. Everybody calls him Gio. Jeri thinks he can help.”

Bill looked at his half-filled cup waiting on the counter. “What the hell do you care what his name is? Jeri says he can help. She’s a good kid. We’ve known her and her family for years. Do you think she’s going to get some kind of fool involved?”

“He goes to Ramsey College, Ma.”

Pam lowered her cup. “And he’s dating a Jew?”

Bill glared at his wife. “Stephanie, What time will they be here?”

Stephanie gave the mug a quick quarter turn to see if she could catch the image in mid-transition. No luck. “Ten, ten-thirty, somewhere in there.” She put the mug in the dishwasher.

Bill picked up the phone, dialed the police, and started talking as soon as someone picked up on the other end. “Sergeant Dykstra? Yes. Bill Thompson here. Yes, I understand, no news, of course. I have some news, though. We’re getting someone to help us find our boys. Just letting you know as a courtesy. How do they say it? There’s another dog in this hunt?”

Dykstra’s voice increased in volume as Bill hung up the phone.


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They ain’t tiny little raccoons no more

Children grow.

It is the nature of things.

Wonderful cliche, that, don’t you think? It is the nature of things? Alternately fatalistic and dismissive. An admixture of “that’s the way it happens” and “big deal.”

I don’t accept fatalism or dismissiveness.

I know they exist. I know other people have them as part of their raison d’etre.

I do not.

Celebrate while you can, that’s me. Live it up. Enjoy. Our moments are precious and few.

Rejoice in the continuation of life. It will not always be there for us to savor.

And in the meantime, our children grow.

My concern?

Who will care for The Wild behind our home when Susan and I pass.

For that matter and due to the construction on the other side of the wood, will there still be wildlife here when Susan and I pass.

I’m reminded of those last few scenes in Silent Running (a classic).

And for now, they ain’t tiny little raccoons no more.

Enjoy.