Category: Words

Friday. Smiling.

This will be quick, because I can’t feel my hands and I feel my elbow too much. If you can avoid it, don’t get a flare up of carpal tunnel and tendinitis at the same time. It isn’t a lot of fun. 

It was Friday. 

The day started out a little rough. It’s never good to see handwritten signs on the door indicating that every application we use or support is down.

Things took a definite upturn at happy hour, where I met someone new who made me smile.  Kind of a lot. 

Then I drove out to Paddy’s and thence to the Grand Lodge for the usual Captain Neon burgers, beer and a great little folk group. And I think we all know by now that Paddy is one of my very favorite people. Before I could leave, we ended the evening in the required manner–a song. Our ukulele version of Creep. Paddy also made me smile. 

Now I am going to bed so I can get up early and drive to Eugene for a little Spring football. Looking forward to seeing friends and family. 
Looking forward in general. 

It’s a grateful sort of evening here tonight. It was warm enough to have dinner outside. We sat next to the fire, so my hair smells smokey in a very nice way. 

Life is good. 

 
 

Beer tattoo 3

The door slammed open, shattering the glass in the window next to it. She tore at the vine around her neck,  trying to stand up. Trying to reach the knives on the counter to cut it away. As she formed the thought, before she formed the thought, the knives flew out of the block and imbedded themselves deep in the door frame. She sunk to the floor, weaker and weaker, the mark on her hand burning. She held the mark to the vine, smelled rather than felt a burn as the vine curled back under the mark. 

The caged creature’s lips curved slightly. Almost a smile. 

“Well done,” she heard. 

“Did you know that would happen,” she asked. 

He tilted his head. He could not say. 

“Cannot or will not?”

His lips curved up again. “There is much that cannot be told, and much that I will not. Some things are the same. ”

She wondered if there was a reason for the mark, and knew there was. The mark controlled the vine. 

“The vine is a weapon, and I control it?”

“Not you,” he replied. “It.”

The mark. Yes. But who was he?

“I am who I am and must be, and no more.”

What are you?

“I am what I am and must be, and no less.”

The lips curved. Of course. Riddles. 

And then tiny bells. Wind.  The creature looked…not afraid, not worried, not wary, ready for whatever might come..not grim, not nervous..steadfast?  Steadfast. He nodded. 

Your name? Yes. Or something like it. 

She wondered what he was prepared for. 

She knew she needed to be ready for it, too. 

The previous episodes:
Beer Tattoo
Beer Tattoo 2

An imaginary conversation with Taco69Amuck

Hey there, sugar. 

Why do you have taco in your user name?

I don know. I like tacos, I guess. 

You weren’t born in 1969–you’re 55!

Nope. 

Are you aware that both taco and 69 are euphemisms?

What?

Euphemisms. 

Whatver. 

And you spelled amok incorrectly. 

Who died and made you queen of speling?

The Pope. 

What?

No one, but don’t you want your name to be spelled right?

I don’t care, speling doesn’t interest me much. 

So I see. 

You have great legs. I’d love you to wrap em around me some nite. 

Does this approach ever work?

I luv sex. 

With women?

oF course. im the best, sugar. 

Somehow I doubt that very much.

I get all i want. 

Well, good for you. That isn’t the same as being good though, is it. 

I dont get any complains. 

You’ve gotten several from me. 

What?

Right. I think we’re through here!

Cmon. Give me a chance. Youll be glad you did. 

I’m already regretting spending this much time with you. 

Bye sugar. 

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