Saturday in Arizona
It's the books folks I have 30 boxes of books yet to move in. That is the only reason why I think that e-books will replace books. Moving is a crap ton easier with out so many boxes of books, but then you lose the feel of the book, the sent of a book in your hand.
So today I went through my email accounts fixed several worked on canceling a few services that I no longer use, and cleaning out address of friend that have moved so I can put in the new ones. And accidentally deleting my organizing and having to dig up a copy of the information.
it's been a day of digital organizing. Tomorrow I return to applications, and inter view prep, and some light laundry. Maybe I'll even grab a couple more boxes of books.
Love is for Children by Ysabet Wordsmith
https://www.facebook.com/avengersfanaticsunited/photos/a.2127827287446930/2256863714543286/?type=3&theater
Date day, unexpected happenings, and the scent of old memories.
However, fate had another plan. The Noise we had dismissed as the fuel line being old was instead something to do with the wheel bearings in the front wheels and was going to suck up several hours. Okay fine, we would stay in the garage, why be locked at home even on a day that was eerily similar to the Silent Hill weather patterns?
I had brought a charger so we could still hook into the internet and do various little things that we had put off. He would take breaks and wander around the lot and the woods, and I would walk around the waiting area. The path was smoother there for me and less for me to trip on. And time inched along. I finished another chapter of a fan fiction I am working on. Sorted out files.
He caught up on correspondence and we chatted about the little things. Started planning out the upcoming events, family, holiday events and of course the evil working schedules.
Eventually, the headache from being a diabetic way too long without food started smacking me down. So he smuggled me some popcorn. I was asking him if we should go ahead and head on home, it was five hours into this "couple of hour" time frame. We would no longer be able to head out to all the places he had wanted to go. With me needing to stay home and sort out for a doctor's appointment of my own in the morning, we'd soon have to separate so he could visit with his mother, and enjoy some Korean television with her. I was a little worried that the repairs would take too long. Instead, he tickled my arm gave me a kiss and snagged some more popcorn.
One more hour passed by, and finally, we were set free. We debated what to do next briefly as we gathered the paperwork and made good our escape from the garage with the chairs that would destroy ironman's butt. Off to a salad lunch and then our much awaited Pokehunting.
It is probably funny to watch us. He has long legs and a distance-eating stride. And now my short legs are further hampered by the use of a cane, and a knee that punishes me if I step too quickly. It's a change from my short but formerly steady gate that I used to hot foot my way down the road. He quickly outdistances me, but he turns around often just to make sure I'm all right, and that I am behind him. If I have stopped, he will make his way back to me just to be sure I'm not "stuck" or needing my walker. We snapped up all the Duduo's that we needed to make our advanced creature. We gathered some supplies for hunting later and then headed home. He had to set out shortly after, and I settled in to cook myself some dinner and watch some tv.
I set a wax melt of fresh cut roses, and got my paperwork and my stuff ready, and then began my mending. This stuff is some potent wax melts. It brings to mind being the "engine" for my Great Grandmother's sewing machine. It was great fun moving the pedal for her. And with the scent spurring on memories from well over thirty-five years ago, I can almost hear her voice. I can remember the scent of the flowers of her garden, and feel the cool dry touch of her hand. Her skin was soft as rose petals, dry, fragile, but she had a will of iron. The memories float about as I sketch this odd little day. And now I know that the scent of roses will remind me of her, and remind me of this day with my sweetheart. Another little memory to look back on when my days want to stress me.
It's been an enjoyable day. And the holidays are coming. I just needed to get this one down, to remember that even stressful days pass and a good memory is a great way to shed that stress.
Night Voices
********
Night shift on the Enterprise, it is not a true night considering the Enterprise was not currently in orbit around a sun. Night shift here is an artificial construct, lowered lighting to orient the different species to somewhat familiar routine for most of them. First Officer Spock is finally off shift. The last of the away team reports are filed, and sent to Starfleet headquarters, the last of the data tapes have been cataloged and stored. It is now time for meditation and a little well deserved sleep.
His quarters are dark and warm, comforting after the perpetual chill, of the ship’s common temperature. The incense scent is inviting, soothing to the mind. The hard surface of his meditation seat is a perfect complement to tired muscles, beneficial to meditation. His eyes close and he begins clearing his mind of all the soft echoes of his crew-mates’ loud emotions. Gently sweeping them out to clear his mind and focus on nothing.
A soft but strong echo refuses to be cleared. Contained grief and pain, shared by many minds, reaching out to his. A swift rejection but still it remains patiently until that human curiosity gently taps at it.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for what? Who are you? How do you know me?” The voice, is many voices, all speaking together, chiming with their shades of sorrow, it tears at his emotional barriers. Not with ferocity but with the poignant razor touch of loss.”
“Thank you Spock, son of Sarek, for giving us an actor who played you so well.”
“Fascinating, who is this actor, and how did I give him to you?”
“To us, you were written, by a man who shared with a world his great vision of what the universe could be. He hired an actor to breathe life into his portrayal of you. Whether or not you will exist in our future someday, is not yet known. And we will never know. But that wonderful writer and actor are now gone. The actor passed this day. He gave those of us who are outcast, someone to look up to. Those who are not accepted by their People the strength to find their own place in the world, and so now we grieve. “
“I grieve with thee.”
“We grieve with thee. And Possible Spock, whether you are or are not, might be or shall be; may many other young lives look up to you, and see what can be. “
Dark eyes open, eyebrows arch, and the soft whisper of the many voices fade.
“Fascinating.”
Notes:
Thank you, Leonard Nimoy. You gave the world a character that became an icon for many. For those who felt like an outcast, you proved to us we can make a place for ourselves in the world. Rest in Peace, and be reunited for your crew mates who have gone before.
Winter
The holiday season is coming up folks. Try not to forget those people working, are people.
Just joining up.
Hello, all. I'm new to Dreamwidth, but I've been a big fan of YsabetWordsmith's work for a long time. I'm a fairly disorganized, scatterbrained, procrastinator despite my outward appearance. I tend to scatter my energy too far and on to many different things. I am a Pagan. Usually a happy to neutral pagan, in my way, and occasionally a bad-tempered witch with a b. I used to draw a lot more, and do painting but after breaking my dominant hand several times, I find it a bit more difficult. I sew and do some light embroidery, I attempt to garden when I can.
I've survived a bout of cancer, and several operations, so while I'm still not quite as healthy as I once was, I do all right. I'm also starting to write fanfictions again. I joined Dreamwidth primarily to add a sketch I was inspired to do. And I write and post on AO3. It's currently late, and from the imprints of my keyboard on my nose. It's probably time to turn in. Good night all.