Desertion

For this week's Trifecta and Theme Thursday

From the Diary of Ynnep

Guardian, Special Forces

3 of 2023

It began with the solicitation for the best of our kind: our most brilliant, artistic, and erudite; our strongest and bravest; and, our wisdom-carriers.  

It was not until we were briefed that we learned of the highly classified mission we would be embarking upon; a  mission that would forever change the blueprint of our lives.  

This was not a time for altruism to reign where women and children were considered first, nor a time to honor our life givers to whom we owed our existence.   No, logic governed, in spite of the mordant chill that overtook, impressing its distaste of the abandonment of a planet that believed in our return.

When Mother Ship departed in search of a celestial body on which to colonize, the desertion of a planet left with Life Beings uninformed - an act that guaranteed or species' survival - somehow felt inherently evil.  And, I fear, this dishonorable act will one day become our most detestable legacy.

In the pursuit to save ourselves, we have instead, destroyed ourselves.  And as we head farther away from Mother Planet, we hear the distant cries of loved ones, their anguish and supplication piercing our ears.  Or, is that the sound of our own voices silently screaming their guilt instead?

63 of 2023

Today, we came upon a tiny planet third from its Sun.  A watery world teeming with life. We have stationed ourselves in its exosphere, undetected.

123 of 2023

Physiognomy of species reveals intellectual and physical embryonic stage.  However, viable life carriers have proven successful as vessels for our future Life Beings. I have been chosen to be the guardian of Mother All.

Rain

Compliments  of Aesthetic Images.
This week at Sunday Scribblings, the prompt - #372 - is Rain.



I may be in the minority, but I like rain.   I like rain very much.

As a child and well into my teens, I enjoyed walking in the rain without an umbrella.  I enjoyed walking barefoot in the summer wading my feet in the puddles, feeling the wet ground under me, dirt squeezing into the crevices between my toes to be then washed away by a puddle not too far off.  When I met the Beloved as a teen, I introduced him to my world and walking in the rain without umbrellas became part of our norm.  We'd walk hand in hand, laughing, trying to push each other into pools of water, arriving home drenched and filled with joy.

I adored the smell of wet earth and found it to have a tranquil effect on me.  I enjoyed walking in silence listening to the birds chirp in delight.  All sentient beings one with nature, grateful for the pause in heat.

In winter, the best days were those spent idly at home under covers watching a favorite program or movie, reading a good book, or writing whilst torrential rains poured down waterspouts and onto awnings with much noise.

Today, my heart still remains the same when it comes to rain. It has not waned.  I still do not use an umbrella, still enjoy the drops of water christen me as I walk to my car or home.  I no longer walk in the rain for pleasure nor wade my feet in puddles or stick them in mud because age now requires a more conservative reaction and, thus, regrettably, I wear a raincoat - a rain slicker - with a hood and that is all, for I cannot be bothered by the cumbersomeness of an umbrella covering that liquid gift from above.  I often, when no one is around, turn my face towards the sky and let the water wash over me.  Strange, perhaps, but I have always found rain to be soothing to my soul.  I suppose since we are born in fluid, we seek fluid and that is why we find the many uses of water - baths, pools, beaches, RAIN - to be so refreshing, a form of momentary rebirth to our souls.

Rain.  I still like it very much.  Summer, Winter, Spring or Fall.  Only I wish I weren't so mature, so that I may once again romp in it like the child I once was...

3 lb. Brain For Sale

This week's prompt at Trifextra Challenge is to write a complete story in three sentences. 

For Sale: 3 lb. brain

Three pound brain for sale. Received used from a previous owner who wished me better luck,  I find brain to be immature in its life stage, suffering from some sort of mutation which affects its decision-making and comprehension skills, along with commitment and responsibility apathy. Brain is dysfunctional for personal use, therefore, sale is open to researchers only who might find it useful for future studies.

Apologies

As part of the new year, I am cleaning up my blog file.  I have/had over 200 posts in Draft that I had written once upon a time but had taken out of circulation.  My intent is to whittle them down to a manageable level and delete those I no longer want or republish those that I still like.  HOWEVER,  little did I know that with the new blogger, the republished ones would republish on THE CURRENT DATE.  This is new.  In the past it has republished on date that was written.  Now I've lost original dates and in the course of cleaning up, all are now republished with today's date.  So I apologize for this as many you have read these before.  Once I am done cleaning my Draft file, I shall resume writing new posts!  Until then....

Olio

I am so done with her drinking tequila.


All right, I love animals, but this thing would give me nightmares.


Don't think you'd be seeing me in this anytime soon....as in this life. I'm always amazed by people who like to tempt Fate...frankly, I'm scared of that bitch, so I stay out of her way.


Kids playing with guns. Okay, children, this shit is not funny. That was my kid they were doing that to, I would've smacked them all. Yeah, call your mothers, I'm scared....


This is how me and the Beloved roll on the weekends. Don't we just look so fine? He liked my blue mood so much he couldn't help but smack lips...


This is what I'm talking about! Just goes to show that it takes a girl to really figure out how to live...yeah, I'm talking to you, you sissy dry boys!


And because I can't help myself when it comes to animals, of course I had to post this. Can I get a big AWWWW!

Spring Has Sprung and So Have I

Spring wants to spring forth once and for all yet the tentacles of Winter still keep it tethered. But that's fine because I feel Winter is beginning to lose the battle.

The birds all around are singing. Rather loudly I must say, so they must be deliriously happy. Yesterday I came home and found the cacophony to be much louder than usual. On our way to the movies this weekend we saw two bluejays which I thought were playing with each other. I exclaimed to the Beloved, "Look, how sweet! They're so happy! Aww, they're playing with each other." He laughed of course and told me they weren't playing, they were fighting. And it was then that I saw a third bird on the side looking at them both. Hmmm? "Oh, then they're fighting for the affections of the girl, eh?" Still, I thought they looked so sweet and happy. But then again what do I know, I've always gotten it wrong when it comes to nature anyway. I think my love for animals, be it bear or bird, somehow short-circuits the obvious. A bear could be coming at me in the woods and I'd be trying to talk it down with a sweet voice and words. Yeah, not too bright when it comes to things like this but at least I admit I'm not wrapped too tight in this area. Nature shows reduce me to tears. The Beloved hates to watch them when I'm around because he knows I'll get upset about the whole survival of the fittest thing. My daughter is the same. No stomach when it comes to this either. As it is right now she tears up now and again because her dogs, her beloved "furry humans" as she calls them, are starting to get white hairs. *sigh* I can't apologize to her enough for having her take after me. Lifetime of tears await you dear girl, so buckle up!

And this brings to mind the time I got bit by King Tut, a 150 lb. rottie I saw being cornered by an animal shelter person who was trying to put a collar on him to no avail. I was doing my daily walk, minding my business (at least I thought), listening to music when in the corner of my eye I sensed rapid movement. A man had chased a rottie into a yard and cornered him against the chain-link fence. I stopped to look and, of course, here I go. *sigh* Can't mind my own business to save my life. "Aww, you're scaring him." I then put my hand over the fence and started stroking the dog's head, "it's okay baby, no need to be scared." The guy seeing how well the dog was responding to me asks me to help him leash the dog and so hands me the leash. I said yes and after a couple of unsuccessful tries, because I couldn't get my arms to reach down far enough over the fence to put the leash around the dog's neck, King Tut had had enough and consequently snapped at me. He caught my hand and managed to bite into two fingers. I immediately started counting my fingers to make sure they were all there, bloody but there, while the so-called dogcatcher turned all shades of pale and began apologizing profusely. "Yeah, well, it's not his fault," I tell him, "he's scared and you've cornered him. What do you want him to do?" I eventually got him leashed because this bozo had zero connection to animals and looked positively terrified and well, methinks maybe he really wasn't cut out for said job. But I don't think I could work in an animal shelter either but for different reasons. Dogs and cats immediately take to me and I to them. Case in point: my neighbors' "aggressive" pit bull who every once in a while jumps the fence and gets into my yard comes looking for me. As soon as he sees me is like Marmaduke coming at you. He gets up on his two hind legs and throws himself at me licking me all over. I barely know the dog and this is what he does. He's positively docile with me. King Tut that I didn't know from Adam, took to me and started licking my hand. My father had the same effect on animals. But I've digressed. Back to why I could never work at a shelter. I could never work at a shelter for the simple reason that I'd be depressed every day having to leave these poor animals in their cages. For sure in time I'd probably end up like one of those crazy people that hoards animals wanting to save all of them and giving them love, love, love. Hmm, yeah, my genetic disposition is ripe for that. Dear old Dad used to bring home every stray he found to the constant aggravation of my mother who spent a better part of her life finding homes to our always-growing furry family. The Beloved has stopped asking me to come outside when a feral cat or kitten is cornered by the dogs and thus now takes care of this problem himself. He knows. He knows that as soon as I lay eyes on it, in the house it will come to live with us.

But back to Spring. It has sprung somewhat. And I am joyous! Joyous, I tell you! I love this weather right now, right before it gets into the suffocating days of Summer which make me hibernate indoors. I'm not a hot-weather type of girl and find absolutely no delirious enjoyment in sweat and frizzy hair, thank you very much. I don't go to the beach because sunning is not my thing and though I love the ocean, dipping into New York waters is like playing Russian Roulette. Last time I dipped my toes I got pricked by something and since I couldn't tell if it was a crab or needle, I decided this let's guess what it is type of daring-do was not for me. If I can't see to the bottom, I'm not getting in. Period. The summers I spent in the Caymans with my father forever ruined it for me. Now there's a place to retire to.

And with Spring of course comes yard cleanup. The plethora of trees we have in our yard usually drops well over 80-100 large leaf bags of leaves each Spring. But this is just in the yard. Add to that the 25 or so from the front of the house and each Spring we have filled over 125 bags of leave. And countless garbage bins are filled in addition of fallen branches and pruning that has to be done. And believe it or not, it's one of the things I most enjoy. I love being in the yard with the dogs running around while I rake and prune. Love it. It all stops once the weather turns hot, however. Then it's the Beloved's turn to take care of the rest. Well, he wanted a house with a lot of land, he got it. Full with its full-time weekend job of cleaning and mowing. I smile. I always told him to be careful what he wished for but he was insistent. Yeah, city boy who grew up in apartments had no inkling as to the time and work it would take to tend a yard this size and he didn't listen to me. So. I smile. That's what I do when I'm right and he's wrong and I don't want to tell him I told you so. But of course, the smile irks him even more because he knows what I'm saying and so I smile some more.... :)

So, Spring has sprung and so have I! I'm outdoors taking advantage of these days and loving it! So toodaloo my beautiful bananas cause the weather is-a-calling!

Justice?

Not Guilty.

Wow.

We all know who we’re talking about. I’m shocked as I know many, many others are as well. Casey Anthony dodged both the death penalty and first degree murder conviction bullet. And, let’s add to that that the jury could not even convict her on aggravated child abuse or aggravated manslaughter of a child. But, she was found guilty of misleading law enforcement. That was it. One dead child later (and, yes, this is a cruel way of stating it, but what was done was beyond cruel), and all she walks away with is the crime of having misled the authorities.

Who knows what really happened. Did she in fact murder her child or was it an accident that she and her family covered up? Whatever the situation was in this case, both scenarios are shocking. Video shows her to be a loving mother. Okay, it looks like she might have been. Perhaps Caylee drowned in the family pool when no one was watching. Who knows. But to cover this up? To actually go through the trouble of making this look like a crime? A crime! I just can’t fathom it. God forbid something like that happened to any of us where a child of ours was accidentally killed. Do we then go and put her in a trash bag and put duct tape on her mouth and dump her in a swamp? Dump her in a swamp. In a plastic trash bag. What. The. Fuck. I can’t speak for others and can only speak for myself but I would rather slash my wrists and kill myself than to do this to a child of mine. Oh, and let’s not forget now that right after her child dies, she felt the need to go party and just didn’t have the time to call the authorities to let them know her child was missing. A month later the child was reported missing. A month later? Christ, this is just unfathomable.

Casey I don’t know what happened but you’re fucking guilty as hell of something gone very awry and it cost your daughter her life. Own up to it. You and your clan. Because that mother and father of yours are just as suspicious and guilty as you are.

I’m disgusted. I can’t say I fully blame the jurors because they have to convict based on the letter of the law and because the prosecution overreached by going for the death penalty, the real loser here was Caylee who never got justice.

People are outraged just like they were when OJ failed to be convicted. We all knew the bastard was guilty and yet he walked away a free man. Or did he? Remember how his life changed after that? He was like the walking plague that no one wanted to have anything to do with. People spit at him in the streets and called him murderer to his face. He wrote a book that went nowhere and shame on the publishing house that printed it. He’s an invisible man, a pariah, that no one acknowledges and is an outcast in our society. I think the same fate will find its way into Casey Anthony’s and her parents’ life. And well deserved. Well fucking deserved. And just so you know Casey, storyteller that you are, I for one will not buy your book and put money in your pocket to hear your side of your sorry-ass story. You partied after your daughter went missing girl. That’s just not right. That you were molested and so you were not in your right state of mind? Bullshit. Don’t cop out on that card. That was your daughter. That was your blood. She loved you. She trusted you. She believed in you. And you failed her with flying colors.

I’m disappointed that this whole fiasco of yours did not turn out differently but do I want revenge for your daughter’s death as many want and as one radio caller said this morning, “I hope she hangs herself from the guilt or someone out there does the same to her as she did to her child.” No. I don’t believe in revenge or an eye for an eye type of payback because then we become no better than you. I will let life, karma, God deal with you and believe me when I tell you no one leaves this life without paying their dues. And you and your clan have a big debt to pay. A debt in the form of a beautiful little girl who trusted all of you as her caretakers and to simply do just that – take care of her. And all of you failed miserably. Justice will be paid. Of that I’m sure.

So are you free? Well, now that's relative isn't it? You can walk away from jail, from authority-given justice, but you can't walk away from yourself and what you did and what you know. You'll always carry that with you. Every day. Every night. Good luck with that and I wish I could say peace be with you. But I can't. I just can't.