A Deeper Meaning
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Posted:Dec 13, 2023 11:35 am
Last Updated:Dec 15, 2023 8:15 pm 19540 Views
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When there is love, scars are as pretty as dimples.
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Edible Arrangements Drops Its Own Ad
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Posted:Dec 6, 2023 8:29 am
Last Updated:Dec 12, 2023 2:46 am 24109 Views
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Sorry about this. It’s not my usual but when I saw it this morning I just had to share. It was too funny not to.
The holidays are just around the corner, and that means one thing: It’s Folgers -ad season. For 14 years now, the coffee company’s Christmas-themed spot has been the only one brave enough to ask, “Would you want to buy coffee if two siblings with insane sexual chemistry were selling it?” But this year, a challenger finally emerges . Edible - the artist formerly known as Edible Arrangements - has thrown its hat into the uous ring.
In the 30-second commercial, a man walks into the kitchen to tell his wife that their “family-history results” are in. His exciting discovery is that his great-great-grandfather came through Ellis Island. Hers too, and as they read the name … uh-oh, it’s the same guy. They immediately order a dessert tray, either to console themselves or celebrate, and just as they’re tucking into their treats, their calls out for Mom. Presumably, they will be ordering another Edible Arrangement when they tell their about their shared bloodline.
“Found out you’re related to your spouse?” The voice-over asks. “There’s an Edible for that.”
Honey, there is definitely an edible for that, but I don’t think it’s included on the Signature Dessert Board. These people found out they are third cousins (thank you to this cousin calculator for helping me figure that out), and their first instinct is to get chocolate-covered strawberries delivered to their door? Maybe call your moms first.
I wish I didn’t have opinions on this kind of thing, but Edible’s addition to the -commercial canon is just not up to snuff. The good people at Folgers can rest easy knowing the award for Best Ad Featuring Two Relatives With an Implicit or Explicit Romantic Connection remains theirs for the 14th year in a row. Congrats to the whole team!
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It Was Always You
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Posted:Dec 3, 2023 9:23 pm
Last Updated:Dec 5, 2023 2:42 am 23728 Views
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”No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go, we will go together, over the waters of time. No one else will travel through the shadows with me, only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.”
My eyes adored you
Though I never laid a hand on you
My eyes adored you
Like a million miles away from me
You couldn’t see how i adored you
So close, so close and yet so far
Carried your books from school
Playin’ make believe you’re married to me
You were fifth grade, I was sixth when we came to be
Walking home every day over Bonnicut Bridge and Bay
‘Til we grew into the me and you
Who went our separate ways
My eyes adored you
Though i never laid a hand on you
My eyes adored you
Like a million miles away from me
You couldn’t see how I adored you
So close, so close and yet so far
Headed for city lights
Climbed the ladder up to fortune and fame
I worked my fingers to the bone
Made myself a name
Funny, I seem to find
That no matter how the years unwind
Still i reminisce about the girl i miss
And the love i left behind
My eyes adored you
Though I never laid a hand on you
My eyes adored you
Like a million miles away from me
You couldn’t see how I adored you
So close, so close and yet so far
My eyes adored you
All my life I will remember (Though I never laid a hand on you)
How warm and tender we were way back then (My eyes adored you)
Whoa-whoa, baby (Like a million miles away from me)
(You couldn’t see how I adored you)
Oh the feeling, sad regrets (So close)
I know I won’t ever forget you, my childhood friend (So close and yet so far)
My eyes adored you
Though I never laid a hand on you
My eyes adored you
Like a million miles away from me
You couldn’t see how I adored you
So close, so close and yet so far
My eyes adored you
Though I never laid a hand on you
My eyes adored you
My Eyes Adored You
Frankie Valli
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AQUA
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Posted:Dec 2, 2023 3:42 pm
Last Updated:Dec 3, 2023 2:57 pm 23085 Views
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Heart of Quartz
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Posted:Dec 2, 2023 3:40 pm
Last Updated:Dec 3, 2023 9:33 pm 22300 Views
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While out shopping today I came across a beautiful pendant in the shape of a teardrop. It’s made from smoky quartz and for some reason I just had to buy it. It’s very beautiful and inspired the words below. Perhaps it holds some sort of other worldly magic within its depths. Who knows? But whatever it is .. I can definitely feel a rush of energy around me whenever I put it on. I like to call it my “voleur d’ames” - or translated roughly from French to English .. the soul stealer.
Her gaze fell upon the pendant displayed in the jewellers window. The purest form of smoky quartz - fashioned into the shape of a teardrop. It hung from a silver chain, bordered neatly by a row of small diamonds on the bottom - and then another much smaller row across the top - which then intertwined into a circle just where the object came to a sharp point. It was stunning and she knew she had to have it. But looking at it from outside the shop was nothing compared to the sensations she experienced when she tried it on and the pendant lay flush against her skin. A growing sense of warmth infused her entire body and she could sense the power that the pendant held. It was almost as if it had been made for her - fashioned from the very heart of the earth and then carved into its present form by the most cunning .. most diabolical .. most dark of all earthly magic - and the most skillful of hands. And somewhere in the back of her mind - as crazy as it seemed .. was the thought that only she was meant to find it.
She touched the pendant carefully, admiring the way it reflected the bright lights of the jewellery shop - and the way it hung perfectly around her neck. It was absolutely stunning .. almost mesmerizing in its beauty - and she couldn’t take her eyes off it. Kat could almost sense the dark power of the crystal as it began to wrap itself gently around her mind - taking hold of her thoughts .. leading her into another place, taking her back to another time. And when she finally looked up .. she was surprised to see that her eyes had become far away and empty - almost like the sky on a summers day when the clouds start to blow in from the west - gathering close together in those moments just before a thunderstorm. She let out a small sigh as a current of energy pulsed through her like a second heartbeat, vibrating to the very core of her being. She was hypnotized .. lost in the fathomless depths of the mysterious crystal, drowning in obsidian - as wave after wave of powerful energy crashed around her. And for a moment there was nothing else but the sound of those waves crashing into her soul.
“Excuse me ma’am - but are you going to buy that?” Kat did not move until the elderly shop keeper gently touched her arm .. while at the same time waving a rough, leathery hand in front of her face. He tried to capture her attention and bring her out of whatever trance like state she was in. Kat looked at him without a trace of comprehension for a moment until finally an awkward awareness began to dawn. She was standing in the jewellery shop on Maple Street and she had been trying on a teardrop pendant. A pendant she was very certain she was going to buy. A pendant that had been made just for her.
“Yes .. I’ll take it. But if you don’t mind - I’d like to wear it home” Kat said. “But of course Madam” replied the shop keeper. “It is breathtaking isn’t it? I don’t know where it came from or where it was made. All I know is it just appeared today .. in a shipment that arrived from Nepal. I tried to research it online and find out its origins .. you know so I could properly classify it and price it for sale - but oddly enough .. there was nothing. Call me crazy - but it’s almost as if it just materialized out of nowhere on the very day you decided to come in and buy it.” The shop keeper shook his head and laughed .. but Kat only nodded her head in complete understanding. The old man wasn’t crazy. In fact he was absolutely right. It did just materialize out of nowhere- so that it could be personally delivered to the one person who was capable of understanding and controlling the enormous power it held within.
~~ Isabella
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Bigger Than The Whole Sky
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Posted:Nov 25, 2023 11:36 am
Last Updated:Dec 2, 2023 3:40 pm 22567 Views
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And in every life we fall like stars into each other’s skies and we dream our way into each other’s destinies
No words appear before me in the aftermath
Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears
Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
‘Cause it’s all over now, all out to sea
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I’ve got a lot to pine about
I’ve got a lot to live without
I’m never gonna meet
What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you
What could’ve been, would’ve been you
Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?
Did some force take you because I didn’t pray?
Every single thing to come has turned into ashes
‘Cause it’s all over, it’s not meant to be
So I‘ll say words I don’t believe
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I’ve got a lot to pine about
I’ve got a lot to live without
I’m never gonna meet
What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you
What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you
(What could’ve been, would’ve been)
What could’ve been, would’ve been you
(Could’ve been, would’ve been)
(Could’ve been, would’ve been)
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time
And I’ve got a lot to pine about
I’ve got a lot to live without
I’m never gonna meet
What could’ve been, would’ve been
What should’ve been you
Bigger Than The Whole Sky
Taylor Swift
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Return to Wonderland .. Continued
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Posted:Nov 24, 2023 5:20 pm
Last Updated:Nov 25, 2023 7:45 am 21711 Views
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”When the day becomes the night and the sky becomes the sea, when the clock strikes heavy and there’s no time for tea, and in our darkest hour, before my final rhyme, she will come back home to Wonderland .. and turn back the hands of time.”
The Hatter slowly walks onto the balcony where Alice is standing, leaning against the railing, hat in the crook of his arm.
“Have you any idea why a Raven is like a writing desk?” he asks conversationally.
Alice smiles beautifully then turns to look out over Marmoreal. “Let me think about it.” she responds.
“You know what tomorrow is, don’t you?” he asks, smiling widely at her.
Alice’s smile falls from her face as she answers. “Frabjous day. How could I forget? I wish I’d wake up.”
“You still believe this a dream, do you?” he asks, feeling a deep sadness well up. How could she believe that this was all a dream? That he wasn’t real?
“Of course this has all come from my own mind.”
“Which would mean that I’m not real.”
“Afraid so. You’re just a figment of my imagination.” she told him with a sad expression on her face. “I would dream up someone who’s half mad.”
“Yes but you’d have to be half mad to dream me up.” he said, a wide smile appearing on his face.
“I must be then.” She smiled briefly before it fell from her face again. “I’ll miss you when I wake up.”
The hatter felt something warm rise in his chest and he felt the need to say something that had been eating away at him ever since Alice had returned.
“Alice,” he said softly, watching as she turned towards him, looking into his eyes that he knew would have turned a mixture of gray and blue by now. “I feel like I need to say this, because I’m not sure what will happen after this day. I’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I haven’t found the right time. You’re either too small or too big and as this is the first time you’ve been the right size, but now I don’t know to say it..” he rambled.
“Hatter!” Alice called out, her hands gripping his face gently.
“I’m fine thanks.” he muttered, his eyes locking onto hers.
“Hatter?” she questioned softly, a confused look on her face. “Why are your eyes blue? I haven’t seen them look like that before. Are you alright?”
He laughs at her question, a wide smile crossing his face. His hand reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbed over her soft skin.
“I’m perfectly fine Alice.” he murmured softly, leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers. He heard her gasp, but felt her lips move against his. He took that as an invitation and wrapped his other arm around her waist, letting his hat fall to the ground.
He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply, letting his tongue taste the sweetness of her mouth.
Alice pulled back after a minute. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked more confused than before.
“Ah..this is..um..” She stepped away from him, shifting nervously.
“It’s alright, it’s just a dream, right Alice?” he told her, smiling at her. Alice smiled hesitantly at him, then moved closer and patted his cheek softly.
“I..will still miss you very much Hatter.”
He placed his hand on top of hers, feeling that warmth rise in him once again.
“I’ll miss you as well Alice.”
The two of them then leaned against the railing together, getting ready for Frabjous Day, each in their own ways.
Author Unknown
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The Three Loves
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Posted:Nov 20, 2023 5:57 pm
Last Updated:Nov 24, 2023 3:36 am 22030 Views
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The beginning of anything is simply trying ….
It’s been said that we really only fall in love with three people in our lifetime. Yet, it’s said that we need each of these loves for a different reason.
Often our first is when we are young, high school even. It’s the idealistic love; the one that seems like the fairytales we all read as . It’s a love that looks right.
The second is supposed to be our hard love; the one that teaches us lessons about who we are and how we often want or need to be loved. Sometimes it’s unhealthy, unbalanced or narcissistic even. It’s the love that we wished was right.
And the third is the love we never see coming. The one that usually comes dressed as all wrong for us and that destroys any lingering ideals we clung to about what love is supposed to be. It’s the love that just feels right.
Maybe we don’t all experience these loves in this lifetime; but perhaps that’s just because we aren’t ready to. Possibly maybe we need a whole lifetime to learn or maybe if we’re lucky it only takes a few years.
And there may be those people who fall in love once and find it passionately lasts until their last breath. Someone once told me they are the lucky ones; and perhaps they are.
But I kinda think that those who make it to their third love are really the lucky ones. They are the ones who are tired of having to try and whose broken hearts lay beating in front of them wondering if there is just something inherently wrong with how they love. But there’s not. It’s just a matter of if someone loves in the same way that they do or not.
And maybe there’s something special about our first love, and something heartbreakingly unique about our second .. but there’s also just something about our third. The one we never see coming. The one that actually lasts. The one that shows us why it never worked out before.
And it’s that possibility that makes trying again always worthwhile. Because the truth is you never know when you’ll stumble into love.
Kate Rose
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The Winds Journal
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Posted:Nov 18, 2023 2:49 pm
Last Updated:Nov 19, 2023 6:46 pm 15035 Views
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Do you remember the night
The moon dropped from the sky?
And we ran through the forest to find where it lie
I was tripping on tree roots and slipping on snow
You were holding my hand saying not to let go
When we found it at last there were twigs in our hair
A rose on our cheeks and our breath in the air
And the words to describe it got caught in our throats
As its silver light danced through the threads of our coats
We knew that our eyes had not seen such a view
You were looking at it
I was looking at you
Erin Hanson
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The Porch Steps
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Posted:Nov 17, 2023 5:39 pm
Last Updated:Nov 19, 2023 6:52 pm 8026 Views
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Our story tonight is called The Porch Steps, and it’s a story about tending to a satisfying chore on a cool day. It’s also about acorns scattered on the sidewalk, the scent of a wood fire on a cool night, a daydream about the wind, and stepping back to take in a job well done.
The leaves were turning but had not yet begun to fall. Well there were a few gathered around the fence posts and scattered over the lawn but when I looked up, I saw thousands upon thousands still waving in the branches above. And there were plenty of trees that were resolutely green, their time having not yet come. I like that. When I look out on a line of trees and spot many that haven’t begun to turn yet, it means there is still so much autumn beauty ahead. I even have my favourite spots .. favourite trees that I go out of my way to visit every October - their colours so spectacular that their locations are marked on the treasure map in my mind. My own street was lovely .. bright red maples, ruddy brown oaks and yellow sycamores and aspens. Across the street was a still green hickory tree with a Virginia Creeper climbing its branches. The vines wove around the trunk and up and around the boughs and its leaves were already deep red. Together they gave the effect of a tree whose hair colour needed some touching up. A bushy green mop lined with ruby roots. I admired it from my front porch as I rolled up the sleeves of my flannel shirt.
The day was cool and overcast but with no rain predicted. A perfect day to take care of a chore I’d been meaning to get to for awhile now. My front steps needed a fresh coat of paint and in the cool autumn air I found a hint of humidity. The paint would dry quickly and my pumpkins could be back in place before sundown. I started by sweeping my whole porch. I didn’t want random bits of mulch and helicopter seeds blowing into my paint job. So I took my broom and started in the far corner. I swept under the porch swing, stopping to pick up the rug and shaking it out over the railing. I watched as a few twigs and blades of grass caught in the wind. They drifted, making the breeze suddenly visible and I daydreamed for a moment about what it might look like if every flurry of air and zephyr were a colour. Each a different colour. If we could watch them swirl and blend and blow. I wondered what a blizzard might look like if the bluster itself were deep blue or sparkling silver. I thought I might pick up my watercolours later and try to bring it to life.
I left the rug hanging and went back to sweeping. I worked up a pile, being sure to dig into the cracks between the floorboards and to skim the cobwebs from under the bottom railing. Then I swept the dust and debris down the steps themselves and kept brushing away until the boards were bare and clean. I swept down the front walk, gathering a few leaves as I went until I could push my little pile into the street. In this neighbourhood, big trucks came by every couple of weeks and picked up leaves. My neighbour’s young was thrilled by the trucks and she and her dad would stand out in the yard watching as the leaves were sucked up by a giant hose .. the little girl shrieking and clapping. It was convenient, and for her, quite entertaining .. but I had grown up in a farmhouse at the end of a gravel road and missed the smell of burning leaves that had been raked into a ditch. With the city pickup, it was better. The leaves would be mulched and in the spring anyone could go to the lot out by the train depot and take home some of the mulch. Still, I thought I might have a fire in the fireplace tonight with the good seasoned applewood I had in the garage and then come out here and sit on the porch in the cold night air and smell the mix of smoke and autumn spice.
Back at the porch I readied my paintbrush, taking it out of its sleeve and fanning the bristles against my fingers (why does that feel so good?) and brushed it over my palm, feeling the flat, even tips of the lined up filaments, then tucked the brush into my back pocket and squatted down to open the paint can. When I was a and we were starting a new painting project, I always tagged along to the hardware store. I liked to watch the paint be made up. Now I think it’s all done by a computer but back then there was a system which, while it was likely less exact and the paint didn’t always match perfectly, was much more interesting to watch. There were tall metal devices where the person behind the counter would line dials up to get the right amount of each pigment and then press a lever to release it all into the can. On the surface of the paint you’d just see a dot of blue or red or yellow floating in the thicker white and think “oh, that’ll never be the colour we picked.” But after it had gone into the shaker and come out again, some would be spread out onto the sample card and show that sure enough, the peachy pink - was peachy pink. I smiled remembering those days as I wedged a paint can opener into the seam of the lid and pried it open. The porch was a deep dark blue, and the steps would match. The colour reminded me of the sky, just at gloaming - or a lake on a cloudy day. I found it a homey welcoming colour and whenever I turned onto my street and spotted my porch framed with birch trees and hydrangeas, I always felt so happy to be home.
I decided to paint from top to bottom thinking I could spend some time tidying up the garage while waiting for it to dry. I sat myself down on a lower step and dipped my brush in the deep navy paint. It was satisfying work to watch the colour soak up into the wood, to spread it cleanly and evenly into place. Step by step I worked my way down to the front walk and when I finished I balanced the brush across the mouth of the can and stepped back to take in my progress. The top step was already a bit lighter. The paint was drying quickly and would need a second coat. Until then I’d fiddle around in the garage and back gardens. Acorns were falling on the sidewalk and my neighbour and his were adding to the fairy garden around the roots of the cottonwood in their yard. At the corner a cat was stretched out on a garden bench and in downtown Nothing Much, orange twinkle lights were being strung around the lamp posts. Across the village, folks were welcoming the fall.
Kathryn Nicolai
Nothing Much Happens
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