You Don’t Know Jack

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He sat atop a hill near the town, looking it over in the way he had.  It wasn’t quite a sneer, but most folks would say it was.  He was watching the soft white tufts as they floated quietly down on the burg, blanketing it.  It was a light falling, building up only about 1/8 inch an hour or so.  He smiled quietly to himself, the sneer growing more pronounced.  It etched into his long face.

“Yep.  Soft white beautiful flakes.  So innocent.  Let’s see what they think of it in about 90 days!”  He laughed.  “Gotta live up to my name!”

Word Count: 100

Photo Credit to Sarah Potter for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

*Unfortunately, I missed this one.  So, here it is, late, but still…

Namaste,

Scott

The 24 Hours of Dante!

Okay, it’s only funny if I tell it, right?

Here’s to the last, nearly, 24 hours.  I think I might have made Dante turn over in his grave while writing the description of an 8th circle of hell.

Anyway, went to visit Dad at the nursing home.  It is cold here; I mean cold.  Warmer then, but still cold.  As I sat with him and played some chess, I sneezed a few times.

When I got home around 11:45pm, I was still sneezing and my nose was running a bit.  I went in planning to wash the dishes and clean up from the baked spaghetti meal I made for a dinner that previous Saturday.  At that dinner, when all was done, I was almost the last one to leave.  I went down their steps and thought I was on the last one when it was second to last.  As I fell, things slowed down, I managed to push forward making it more of a slide and, though it shook my spine top to bottom and hurt shoulder and hip, I didn’t bruise and didn’t end up at the chiro.  I just was very sore.

Still sore last night, I still wanted to do the dishes.  I went to put the leftover spaghetti into the trash (I am vegan, remember?), saw that it was full, and looked at the garbage disposal.  “It will be alright,” my stroke-induced brain told me as I shoveled it into the grinder.  About 1 minute later, the drain began backing up and I worked hard at fixing that, with no good result.

So, at 12:10am, I took off into the night to Walmart.  There I managed to find about $28 in stuff for the kitchen I would “need” including some Drain Cleaner (80 oz) and a plastic strip to shove down the drain and loosen it.

Arriving home, I tried the strip first.  Nothing.  Then I poured in 1/2 the bottle (instructions for heavy clog) slowly through the sink full of greasy muck and set the timer for 30 minutes while I checked on the computer.  The timer went off and I went back in to check the sink – nothing, except now a heavy acid smell to the air.

I followed the directions and poured in the rest of the bottle and waited another 30 minutes – still nothing.

Now, angry and frustrated, I realized that I would not only have to find a plumber on Wednesday or Thursday to fix the drain so I could get to my conference on Friday, but I would not be able to take Mom to dialysis to see Dad.  We also would eat breakfast and visit at Cracker Barrel and she would shop a bit somewhere.

I headed to bed, realizing that the heavy smell of acid cleaner was in the air and I could not do away with it until, at least, tomorrow.  I got in bed and realized the sneezing had now developed into a nasty sinus stoppage with some chills added.  At this point, having stretched myself too thin over the past week, I said a prayer to God about the illness, the plumber, and the conference (it was a learning conference for fun out-of-state, kinda vacation), then went to sleep a very short fitful sleep.

Mom woke me at 8:45am to tell me it had snowed and we wouldn’t be going to Dad’s dialysis.  Secretly relieved, I told her about the night.  She gave me her plumber’s number which I called and left a message on the phone.  She told me not to go see Dad at all and I agreed (can’t have him getting sick, too).  I decided to call a good friend who does odd jobs and have him fix the drain.  I decided whoever I actually talked to first got the job.  He got on the phone and said he could be over in a short while.  When I hung up and tried to rest, the other plumber called.  I took care of that situation, letting him know I would keep his number for another time.

I decided to just get up and eat.  Sugar was 85, the lowest it has been in a bit.  I had to maneuver everything around the kitchen drains and the smell to fix breakfast and take my meds.  After a bit, I noticed my nose and head were much better and I felt it might just be an allergy attack from something recent.

Friend came around 11 and took about 1 1/2 – 2 hours.  I paid him and then decided to wash the dishes…it is 5:29pm now and they have not been washed yet and my sneezing is back in spades!

So, at present, if the sneezing doesn’t get worse, I will go to the conference (weather willing).  I plan on visiting Dad tomorrow night, and I will do the dishes after posting this.

So, there, Dante…get writing!

Namaste,

Scott

Do I Hear Bells?

This has been a long, long week.  I don’t sleep well on a normal basis.  This week, being the teenaged person that I am, I stayed up too late on a couple of nights and stay extra late with Dad (probably those same nights).  I still had my normal MWF routine with Mom, so sleep was rather rough until Friday night (or, more precisely, Saturday morning).  I hit the bed around 4:30am, read until 5:15, then passed out around 5:30.  From there it was sleep off/on until about 1pm.  I got up and took my sugar reading.  Seeing the 164 show up (130 is the upper border), I took my other meds and lay back down.  I slept heavily and woke up around 7:00pm.  I promptly got up, took my sugar, which read 110 this time, and decided to eat.  I kept the carbs down more and decided to have Raisin Bran.  In getting ready, I knocked a glass to the floor, covering the kitchen in shards.

Now, came the deal:  I am diabetic.  Cleaning the kitchen floor is much more difficult when you MUST make certain EVERY shard of glass, a potential foot-loss problem, is cleaned up.  I swept the floor twice, then mopped it twice with the Swiffer cleaner.  That and wearing Clogs for the day has, so far, kept me glass-stabbed free.

I tell you all that to tell you why I am writing about today at 8:47pm when the idea came at 1pm.  I looked out the bathroom window this morning to see … SNOW!  This was not the expected day-ruining downfall I expected.  This was very light, big flakes, and softly falling white stuff.  You know, the stuff Christmas morning is made of.  So, I share with you 2 pictures I took out said bathroom window and tell you people who live in 50-110 degrees all year that you don’t know what you are missing.  Yeah, it could be 5-6 feet of packed nastiness, but this almost makes all that worth it.  Add to it the fact that I can walk this winter and can dig myself out in much less time than last year, as well as simply move around in it better, and you have a pretty darn good winter expectation coming up.  Doesn’t hurt that the NWS says we should have less snow and higher temps here all winter (well into January, anyway).

I know we don’t ski here and I know we don’t spend weeks digging out.  Those two extremes put us in the middle of the snow mess/beauty.  Enjoy the pics:

I know, you can’t see the falling stuff, but it was falling, light, white, and fluffy.  Still, even with the dingy day (overcast), it looks nice to me and brought back all kinds of memories – like hearing the Christmas bells at church or on the TV or radio.

Namaste,

Scott

Friday Fictioneers – 9/18/14 – The Ground Beneath Our Feet – Rated PG humorous

Rochelle, once again, brings us Friday Fictioneers with this week’s prompt (pic below).  Mine follows the prompt.  For the others > HERE <  Enjoy!!!

Source: Copyright – Dawn Q. Landau Link: http://http//talesfromthemotherland.me/ (broken) Reuse licensing assumed.

“The Ground Beneath Our Feet”

By Scott L Vannatter – 100 Words

Stella walked slowly across the “Crypt of Millions” in which graves had been dug, filled, and then covered in concrete and marked off with stones. The problem was, here in the mountains, snow fell almost constantly. Thus, came Stella’s job: shoveling the snow and dusting the graves and stones.

There were almost never any visitors, so she often wondered why she must shovel so much. Then, it would happen: the snow and cold would crack a grave and the spirit of the dead would come forth.

For her part, she did not mind. It gave her someone to talk to.

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Namaste,

Scott

Flash Friday – Pic / “Duty” prompts – 140-160 words – Horror Rated R

Snowman on Lake. Photo by Petritap.

Rebekah Postupak hosts Flash Friday.  Today, using the pic prompt below and the word “Duty”, we are to create a 140-160 word story.  I have chosen to continue Carolyn’s adventures in “Keeping Watch”.  Check out my page on Carolyn for all her stories.  After reading mine below, check > HERE < for the rest.   Enjoy!

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Carolyn had been walking for quite a few days.  She was tired, but happy that she had not seen any night crawlers in well over two days.  She did not sleep better; she still had to be alert.  However, the reprieve had been nice.

She had covered several miles since leaving the last town and its nightmares and was now in a very rural area.  She looked out over the fields covered in an early snow and almost enjoyed the brisk cold air lightly blowing on her cheek.

She stopped and stared hard at the figure in the distance.  The sinking sun was behind it, making it difficult to see clearly.  She decided to chance it and walked forward, knife in hand, gun holster unsnapped.

A short, sharp laugh escaped her as she realized the snowman was not a threat.  It was standing guard duty in the field, evidently built by…the thought snapped her awake.  Who had built this?

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Namaste,

Scott