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Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Elevenses 9 March 2016

In the British Isles, elevenses (pronunciation: /ɨˈlɛvənzɨz/) is a snack that is similar to afternoon tea, but eaten in the morning. It is generally less savoury than brunch, and might consist of some cake or biscuits with a cup of coffee or tea. The name refers to the time of day that it is taken: around 11 am.

I find that I drink caffiene pretty much consistently throughout the day. Coffee, tea, hot, tepid, iced - yep, I am an addict. And I do not want to change.

Scary, isn't it? When I look at this picture, I see my mother Jan Smith, my half-brother Steve Slade & various and sundry other relations from my maternal bloodline. Truth will out, and DNA never lies. I was not switched at birth, planted by an alien race to learn the ways of humans, or left on the stoop by gypsies or the fae -

I can feel change arriving in my life, and it arrives at a swift pace. I can only hope I have the strength to deal with the aftermath in a reasonable manner.

Spring has come Little Beaver Creek - Catching us by surprise - A warmth to the breeze at times - New buds barely catching my eyes - Early birds can be heard to sing - Heralding hope and joy - Lambs are frolicking in meadows so green - There are fishing holes in search of a boy - Clouds overhead float billowy soft - Morphing from fish to fowl - Windows are open to air out the house - Newborn kittens greet us with a meow - All too soon the new will wear off - And pollen will become a pest - But for now we enjoy the halcyon days - Choosing to remember only the best
The following are the first few bits of a story I am working on. Any thoughts?

There was truly no cause for the trepidation that filled Danielle when she knocked on the door to welcome her new neighbors. The house at the end of her lane had been empty for so many months, and it would be nice to occasionally see other people out and about. For the most part, she only saw the creatures that made the woodland surrounding the area their domain. 

And oh, such creatures they were. Deer, opossum, coyote, raccoon, groundhogs, squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks ... Most likely there were others she had not seen or heard. There had been rumors of bear, and she was sure there were bats in the night though she had not seen them. Owls often could be heard and seen, seeking out their prey, and the variety of birds made their little bit of paradise a frequent destination for birders doing the annual Audubon Society count. 

In addition to the birdseed, salt blocks, and suet she routinely invested in, Danielle had taken to leaving her food scraps and leftovers at the edge of the woods, feeding the critters she called it. Actually, that particular habit of hers had been the genesis for her recent and somewhat uncharacteristic feelings of unease about her current living conditions. 

She had enjoyed her hermitage at the end of a paved, albeit one lane road. Hers was one of only five houses, each which boasted the type of privacy the burnt out and creative craved as intensely as the pioneers who settled this area had craved community and neighbors in the eighteenth century. 

... more to come at a later date.

~ Ellen Apple 3/8/2016

2 comments:

  1. I am looking forward to reading more. How well I can understand her feeling. Loving her quiet isolation, not sure what changes will come, good or bad?

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  2. looking forward to hear more

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