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Thursday, May 28, 2015

Garlic, Goats and Bee Invasion

Tortuga Thursday 
In 2012, on the plains of Northern Arizona, two families joined forces and began the trials and tribulations of building a small family farm with nothing in the bank but love.
Sadi feeding the neighbors baby goat
This is a different year on Tortuga Flats Farm. The amount of what's being planted is about the same except it's predominately garlic. We've gotten a better feel for how much of all the vegetables we need for personal use and a good part of that will be growing in the greenhouse. Next week, we'll plant sweet potatoes and squash outside.

It will also be time to pull the mulch back from the garlic. There are a
Garlic looks healthy
couple of varieties that have reached the top of my thigh in height. I'm not sure that means it will be great or not but I'm anxious to see.

Bees invade the RV
We've had bees building a hive inside the wall of the RV. They got in through the gooseneck. We struggled with keeping them out for days. Tried everything and finally had to give up and kill them. Made me sad. Bees are needed for the very life of this planet. Now we have to have someone get into the wall and clean out the wax and honey. Have no idea what that will cost. Groan.

Sadi continues to grow into a fine little farmer girl. She loves all things
Sadi and a bug friend
green and bugs. We point out "bad bugs" so hopefully she will know when to run.

Monday, May 25, 2015

DREAMTIME SENSUALITY by David Russell



MUSE MONDAY
Dreams and sensuality from my guest, David Russell all the way from the UK!

Many a dream can be realised with a little forethought. The characters in this quartet of stories are intelligent, sensitive and literary. They are also supremely voyeuristic and open-minded. Their intelligence is counterbalanced by inhibitions, which they can only lose by premeditated seduction scenarios, which relate intimately to their professional, creative and cultural lives. The great effort each couple puts into arranging a scenario seems to enhance the quality of the experience. A great source of inspiration for this and other works has been the novel The Girl Beneath the Lion by AndrĂ© Pieyre de Mandiargues.

Seductive Semaphore: Fashion Designer Bethesda and journalist Hector live opposite each other, with windows facing. They make initial contact through visible, provocative gestures. Soon afterwards, they get direct contact when Hector assists Bethesda with her folio. She invites him round to model for some of her fashion creations, and proceeds to seduce him. The seduction continues with a ritual visit to a sports centre, and then to a beach. They leave it open as to whether their relationship could ever become long-term.
The Heroine and the Author: Dreamer Hecate discovers she has a terminal illness. She wants to make the most of the time she has left by being celebrated in literature as a charismatic, legendary figure. She meets Ferdinand, a ghost writer, who is happy to undertake this massive project with her. In the process, She gets an idea of his physique through jogging and the fitness centre. Then there is a seduction scene inspired by the literary models of Sappho and Donne. Being ‘open-minded’, they make a pact for each one to go and have a sexual adventure – his hetero, hers lesbian. Their relationship is enhanced by this extra dimension.
Dreamtime Sensuality: Romona, highly literary and highly inhibited, goes to an exotic island location. She deeply desires a passionate encounter. At the Pension where she stays, she meets Stefano, who fulfils her requirements exactly. The proprietress of the Pension picks up on Romona’s shyness, and gives her reassurance, including some practice in the art of kissing. Romona orchestrates an elaborate beach seduction scenario, and they are both fulfilled. They never meet again, but their exchange of emails and text messages goes on indefinitely.
Dancing with Danger: Verona is a Scriptwriter and Gareth an archaeologist. They both have ‘retreats’ near the coast, and discover their common interests. Verona contrives a half-seduction on a deserted beach, wearing 18th century retro gear – related to their common interests. After some further encounters, they give each other a ‘dare’ to go and have a really risky encounter with someone really dodgy. Gareth finds a young woman on the run. Verona has a rapturous encounter with someone who gets hauled in by the police, suspected of terrorism. She uses her charm on the interrogating police officer to extricate herself. So Verona and Gareth both meet up again, to tell their respective tales.  

Excerpt:
Hecate read some verses of Sappho, which she felt totally appropriate to his slender grace, so nearly androgynous. She quoted a phrase demanding his fixed, concentrated stare into her eyes. The eye contact was clinched Hecate’s introduction was a quote from her.


Ferdinand responded to the prompt; he knew what he had to do—gradually, at intervals, he removed his garments one by one as she breathily read the hypnotic, seductive phrases.

His garments came off with ease and grace, he obviously had some long-repressed desire to do this. At last, he stood before her, beautiful, naked, and slender. Somehow, his spirit prevailed over his earlier reticence, he shed his shyness with his clothing. Since she saw him in trunks, Hecate anticipated this moment with such relish. If the pool had been empty when they were there, she would have taken them off there, or in the shower. Perhaps something could happen, or even be premeditated in the future, on a deserted beach, secluded amid the dunes.

She handed him a volume of the collected poems of John Donne. “Now, I think you know which one I want you to read me. Hmm…while we’ve been working together, I bet you’ve had some reveries of me undressing, you undressing me.”

“I have to admit that is so and I know which poem you mean, it’s Elegy Nineteen—To His Mistress Going to Bed.

“We really are on the same wavelength darling. I had learned of that poem as a young girl, with a desperate desire one day to enact it. Every word of it struck home as I disrobed alone, for years I yearned for that lovely partner to give me those instructions live.”

Ferdinand beamed, then quoted from near the end of the poem referring to the poet’s nakedness at the beginning of the action. Then he proceeded to read, with his lovely, hypnotic voice.

He really made Hecate’s girdle feel like Saturn’s rings As she undid her sash and cast it down, she felt her abdomen was bathed in heavenly light, visible only to spiritual eyes.

The request to remove her ‘breastplate’ gave her an etheric shudder. Taking off the brooch at the top of her dress felt like casting away a shield, affirming that strife and combat had been replaced by love.

In response to the exhortation to unlace, she felt deliciously nervous as her fingers twitched on her zips and buttons.

As the gown went off following the next command, Hecate felt she had emerged from a perennial cocoon, that she was the sun liberated from the constricting veils of night.

As for a ‘coronet’, Hecate was only wearing a slide, but removing it certainly helped her locks flow freely.

It was great to feel liberated from footwear; earlier on her high heels had felt so sexy. But now her stockinged feet tingled with electric desire.

With her underwear, admittedly she found nylon, calico and silk sexier than linen, but the word, so sensually uttered, really relevant. (from The Heroine and the Author – Story 2)
www.devinedestinies.com/Dreamtime-Sensuality-Antho/

Manic Readers - Dreamtime Sensuality by David S Russell ...

www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=bookDetail&bookid=47878
o                   
Dreamtime Sensuality eBook: David Russell: Amazon.co.uk ...
www.amazon.co.uk › Books › Romance › Contemporary

edmunds r david russell david, Romance, NOOK Books ...

Dreamtime Sensuality – a book by David Russell

www.smashwords.com › Fiction  Romance  Contemporary

Author Bio: b. 1940. Resident in the UK. Writer of poetry, literary criticism, speculative fiction and romance. Main poetry collection Prickling Counterpoints (1998); poems published in online International Times. Main speculative works High Wired On (2002); Rock Bottom (2005). Translation of Spanish epic La Araucana, Amazon 2013. Romances: Self’s Blossom; Explorations; Further Explorations; Therapy Rapture; Darlene, An Ecstatic Rendezvous (all pub Extasy (Devine Destinies). Singer-songwriter/guitarist. Main CD albums Bacteria Shrapnel and Kaleidoscope Concentrate. Many tracks on You Tube, under ‘Dave Russell’
Author Links: www.davidrussell-author.blogspot.co.uk

Friday, May 22, 2015

Bloom Where You’re Planted by C. Marie Bowen




FEARLESS FRIDAY

Thank you, Brenda, for having me as a guest for “Fearless Friday”. I signed up to be a guest on your blog thinking, ‛I’ve done some pretty brave things’, and I have. I’ve bungee jumped and lived to tell about it. I stood in front of my graduating class and gave the valedictorian speech. I’ve even performed in front of crowds playing an accordion. Those were all scary at the time, but I didn’t wonder later how I managed to accomplish them. Looking back, I had been nervous, yes—but not fearful.



After searching in all the dark corners for the bravest thing I’ve done, I would have to choose the point where I took up the reins of my life and said, “This isn’t working—things need to change.” Walking away from a broken marriage with two kids in tow wasn’t brave, it was self preservation. The fearless part came later. It came when I realized I couldn’t raise my kids on minimum wage and minimum child support. That the only chance I had to become independent would be to move away from family and friends and begin a new life in Texas.



After the move, I cleaned house and cooked to pay room and board while I went to school. But there were other expenses, so I worked part time drafting to make ends meet. Eventually, I graduated with an Associates Degree in Computerized Architectural Drafting and Design (CADD). I found a good job, saved my money, and after four years of sleeping on a friend’s couch, my children and I moved into a home of our own.



I bought a magnet when I first came to Texas that said, “Bloom Where You’re Planted.” I put it on the refrigerator as a reminder that I couldn’t go back. Moving forward was my only option. I’ve been in Texas for twenty years now, and I realize those first four years away from friends and family were the most terrifying and lonely years of my life. Somehow, I moved through them as though I was fearless. One foot in front of another. One day at a time.



Eventually, life took another turn and I found I had the opportunity to chase an old dream – to publish the stories I kept locked in my heart. This latest adventure has just begun, and I hope I can face this challenge as fearlessly as I faced my struggle to bloom in Texas.

Passage - blurb:

After a car accident, Courtney Veau has a “near death” experience, and returns to her past-life in the post-Civil War west. When she wakes in a present-day hospital, Courtney realizes she’s returned to her own hollow existence. Heartbroken, she knows she left behind not only a family she loves, but life with the man who shares her soul, a man she’ll love forever, Merril Shilo.

A carriage accident nearly takes beautiful Nichole Harris’s life, stealing her memories completely. Plagued by amnesia, she is confused by flashes of memory that are out of time with the world around her, and seem to belong to someone else. Only Nichole's own strong emotions remain to guide her—and as others try to take control of her life, she fights a desperate battle to survive. Merril Shilo is someone she should know, and though her memories fail her, she is stunned by her passion for him—and the remembered agony of a broken heart.

Merril Shilo is the love of Courtney’s life—no matter when that life might be. The memories and emotions of her life as ranch heiress Nichole Harris consume Courtney’s mind—and her heart. Courtney soon finds her desire for Merril threatens her sanity, as he beckons from a past she can no longer reach. She would give her life to return to her soul-mate, if she could only find the passage back to him.


Excerpt from Passage:
The long shadows faded into twilight. She'd found what she came for—proof this house existed. There was no longer a reason to stay; and yet, just the possibility she might hear his voice again kept her waiting one more day.
Outside the window, night took final possession of the day. A few porch lights came on down the block. Headlights swung around the corner as a car turned onto the street and illuminated the pavement. The headlights winked off and a car door slammed.
Behind her, the room took on a familiar chill. She turned from the window and pressed her back against the heavy drapes as the echo of boots pounded up the back stairs. She gasped when he raced into the room, vaguely luminescent in the darkness. He was dressed in denim trousers and cotton shirt, with a silk scarf tied loosely around his neck. Where's his hat? Had he lost it in the dash up the stairs? That wide-brimmed cowboy hat was such a part of him he seemed naked without it. His hair had come loose from its binding, and he shoved it out of his face with a familiar motion. She stood close enough to read the emotion play across his face, a mixture of fear and bewilderment. His breath was labored, and his anxiety tangible as he stopped and looked right at her. Her mouth fell open in surprise and her heart tightened in her chest. Does he see me?
He took a hesitant step toward her. “Nichole?” His voice filled with horror, he whispered her name from another life.
Yes! Merril, it's me.” Courtney stepped toward the specter.
His head turned. His attention called away from her open arms. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” Merril fell to his knees and reached for something no longer there. “Nicki, please don't go. Stay with me.”
Merril, I'm here.” Her heart ached for him and for herself, but her plea went unheard.
Sobs shook his wide shoulders.
Her heart clenched to witness his despair. She longed to comfort him, to assure him she was there, but could not. In defeat, she sank to her knees beside the grieving apparition.
Nicki, don't leave me. Look at me—” His hushed voice, choked and broken.
I'm right here, my love,” she whispered, but the room grew warm and Merril Shilo faded back into the past. Courtney hung her head in the darkness and fought back tears. One question was answered, at least for now.

LINKS:

Connect with C. Marie here: Website: www.cmariebowen.com