Dream a little dream...

Song of the day: “I like how it feels” by Enrique. Been having a lot of him in my head of late, haven’t I? Ah well, no matter.

Let’s get started immediately, shall we?

It all starts in the Land Rover. Big brother is driving, Grandpa is in the backseat, and I’m looking around, wondering where the heck we are going. We are traveling in a straight line over bumpy knolls of grass, sparkly gray rocks and patches of yellow sand, with on either side of us a wall that is rapidly becoming higher.
“I don’t think this is going anywhere,” I point out, watching pampa grass knolls brush past the car at regular intervals, the white brick walls, interrupted by patches of piled up slabs of slate stone, on either side of the car. There are high reaching stems of bamboo, a little waterfall that pounds into a small basin situated in a niche we pass, and a grassy path on which we drive.
Overhead the sun is shining brightly. A clear blue sky with rapidly tumbling cumulus clouds, is almost too bright for my eyes. I can’t find my shades anywhere, and considering the car is bumping along on the road that appears to be getting bumpier and narrower within every passing minute.
A noisy scraping sound, along with a jostle that makes me wince, I ask, “Did you just hit something?”
“Uh-huh,” answers big brother, his features tight and dark. Something’s bothering, and it isn’t the narrowing passage.
“Two somethings,” deadpans grandpa from the backseat, looking a tad tense himself. I can’t blame him, since there is a sense of urgency and worry inside me as well.
On the side of the car two long, jagged scratches mar the white paint.
Up ahead, behind the left wall I can see occasional glimpses of a black roof building that for some reason reminds me of that big old hotel in that seventies horror movie “The shining”. Except that the roof is black, and that the beam structures, much like with those old cathedrals, stick out in clear contrast.
Big brother continues to drive on.
The pampas grass is blooming here, and the planters that are about as high as the wheels of the car become lusher with greens. By now I’m no longer wondering if the passage is getting narrower; it is. In fact by this time big brother has to pull to a halt lest we get stuck. We’re already close to that predicament, considering we are no longer able to open the doors.
“Now what?” I ask.
“I guess we should climb out and see if we can get over the wall to see where we are,” answers big brother, while grandpa in the back concurs and begins lowering his window. The three of us climb out, the planters supplying us with sufficient purchase to reach the top of the wall. Using pieces of black slates as foot holds, I climb onto the ledge and peer at the long drop down. There’s moss and grass at the bottom of the sheer white wall here, and before me, obscuring the view of the big house in the distance, is a rather vast pine forest.
I carefully slide my way down the wall, for as far as that is possible. I actually rip my pants, but no matter, with little trouble I land on the soft soil. A glance up shows that grandpa and big brother are nowhere in sight. I wonder about that for a moment, but see no other recourse than to head on out to the building and find a phone. As it turns out, I’m not carrying my phone. Strange.
For quite a while I walk through the woods, sunlight only occasionally touching the pine covered ground, and small tufts of green the only real color in this world of shadows.
Suddenly I come upon a row of buildings. They appear old and built on the exact edge of the woods. They are placed close together to a point of them forming a barrier through which I can barely see, let alone pass. There are glimpses of sun light and blue sky visible between the structures, so old that there are cracks in the clapboard walls, and even broken boards there where I thought I might be able to pass through because the last house on the row is build against a hedge of a wildly growing cypress hedge.
Worming myself through it, I basically stumble into a corridor of sorts. It is unexpected and I feel momentarily disoriented as I look around the almost sterile looking gray walls (two kinds of gray. Darker below, lighter up with a black border between them). The floor under my feet are olive green tiles, and every fifteen feet or so a dark puce colored door slashes through the gray. There are murmurs all around and a distant beeping that I can’t place nor locate.
I feel chilled in my short-sleeved white T, and the tiles make the soles of my shoes squeak rather ominously. I wince every single time I put my feet down, and yet the urgency that I sense doesn’t allow me to stop and wait to fully orient myself.
“Sam!” I spin around at the scream, see a young woman come rushing towards me. I don’t know her, and yet I do. Dark haired and almost fey in appearance, she’s only a few inches shorted than me. She has her arms raised in a somewhat imploring fashion.
“Sam! Help me,” she pleads, transforming before my eyes. Skin peels away from the protrusion of her cheekbones, showing fetid flesh, reddish and bleeding as her eyes sink deeper into their sockets and become vacant and pale. She makes an inarticulate sound, more a gurgle than anything. Her hair, lush and curly when she first came running towards me, is becoming greasy and dead-ish at the same time, hanging in dirty strands on either side of her now gaunt features where her once red lips have turned to a sallow blue.
“Help meeee!” she sputters, stumbling with a much familiar stagger as I scramble backwards. “’elp meeee” again while she reaches for me with clawed hands of which the nails have turned black and jaggedly sharp.
I have nowhere to turn, nowhere to run, what with my back against one of those bland gray walls, when suddenly a ponderous sounds explodes from nearby. The girl, I don’t even know her name, shocks comically, spins on her heel as dark blood fountains around her chest. She slams into the wall in front of me, as another explosions batters my eardrums. I close my eyes for a moment, determined not to watch the girl’s head explore in a gory mass of blood and flesh, and then glance in the direction from where the gun shots originate.
There’s a blond dude standing in the open glass doors. Strangely enough he reminds me of a very young Gary Busey (or his son) while he stands there in what appears to be a white nurse’s uniform. He is holding a smoking black shotgun.
“This way,” he calls, gesturing to the corridor behind him. He is looking at tad harried, I’ll admit, and for the first time I’m starting to wonder where the heck grandpa and big brother disappeared to.
“Come on. No dawdling. We’ve got to get out of here fast.”
Rather than look at the dead zombie girl, I start running towards the guy, but as I pass through the door I suddenly find myself on a Swiss balcony, overlooking snowy slopes as far as the eye can see. Behind me there are noisy screeches and growls, like a herd of monsters from a nightmare are rapidly approach, but a glance back into the corridor from which I come, shows only the dead zombie girl.
Again I have this sense of disorientation, but I have no time to ponder it as the guy with the shotgun urges me on at a run to the end of the seemingly endless balcony.
“This way,” he shouts over his shoulder, already climbing over the banister and letting himself fall down the three stories that we’re removed from the snow covered ground. Though usually heights disturb me, I don’t hesitate as I climb over and jump just as I feel a sharp scrape in the nape of my neck. With a noisy oomph I land in a thick pile of snow and scramble after shotgun dude.
“Where are we going?” I pant, daring a look up where a suspiciously zombie-like creature leans heavily over the banister I just climbed. Backing up the monstrous grunts and squeals is that distinctive beep that is seriously starting to bug me.
When I don’t receive a response from my companion, I glance back and realize I am once more alone.
Swearing (I won’t bother you with my creativity in this regard) I scramble away from my landing spot from fear of the zombie coming in pursuit and hurl myself head-first into the dark pine bushes that are located about fifty feet away from the building. Where’s big brother when you need him, I wonder distractedly, elbowing my way through the snow, and then squealing (somewhat inelegantly, I’ll admit) when the ground drops from under me, all of a sudden and I am send hurtling down a muddy slide. I come to a slippery stop at the bottom of the incline, covered in mud and feeling chilled to the bone as I slap at the muddy soil on either side of me. “Blast it!” I mutter the words, on a subconscious level aware that I should keep quiet, despite me getting the distinct impression that I am in fact dreaming. (Sometimes it takes me a while, as you might have noticed. Hah)
Ignoring the coldness of the mud and the smell that seems to come at me from all sides, I slip-slide my way to a rocky outcropping and use its steadiness to look up at what appears to be a long, long distance that I slid down. There, at the top of an uneven crater-like hole (in which I am shivering) I can see the Shining house loom high into the bright blue sky. There are sounds of music, laughter and talking voices drifting down, and I start my struggle to ascend up the rocking wall that leads up to the building.
The snow is gone, and by this time I’m pretty darn sure that I am dreaming, and wonder where the heck I’m going as I climb higher, and higher until I finally drag my butt up on solid ground and lay there behind a wildly blooming rose bush. I never get how I can be out of breath in dreams, and yet I am. The sound of an engine nearby makes me scramble into a squat (by this time my clothes are semi clean again) to peer through the rosebush. With the rumble of the car, that beep is once again becoming more prominent and I shake my head as I try to focus on what I can see through the branches of the deep red rose bush.
There, on the white gravel car sweep in front of the massive structure a black jag pulls to a halt and two women in black robes and red high heels (don’t ask me why, this is as weird to me, as it is to you) climb from the back seat to scamper up the brick dais whispering and laughing together like a bunch of teenagers.
I am about to slink my way down to the next bush, away from the building that seems threatening to me, even with all it’s apparent splendor, when a voice behinds me says: “What are you doing here?”
I start…and wake up with Knight II ramming his friggin’ paw into the small of my spine, and blink at the gray morning light falling into my bedroom.
As it turns out, the beeping I was hearing was my alarm, which, apparently, had been going off for a solid twenty minutes. Yup.
Knight II felt bugged by it and woke me up in the most effective way. Hah.

So, that was fascinating. I knew I was in the mood for a good horror movie last night when big brother mentioned that the younger sib got “The Eye” with Jessica Alba (he was so mean mentioning it. I’ve been wanting a good horror movie for weeks now, darn it.) on DVD. Clearly I wanted a horror so badly, my mind did it for me, eh? Hah.

But anyway, there were some clear old movie indicators in there. I mean seriously. Did you get the references? Gary Busy’s son in a nurse’s uniform? “The Frightners” anyone? The hotel in “The Shining”? “Labyrinth” from the eighties, maybe? Clapboard military housing from “The Bodysnatchers” in the early nineties? Zombies as in every zombie movie ever? The long stretching hospital corridors as in most Japanese horror movies?
Of course then there was the Swiss chalet-like balcony. I can’t really place that with a movie. Hmmm. Weird.

What can I say, I’m bonkers and my dreams proof as much. Gotta get the ideas for my dreams somewhere, don’t I? What better place then wonky dreams?

No matter though. Let’s do a quick sum-up of the past couple of days. There were chores, gardening, of course, and I spent most of the days working in the upper yard. I was in fact in the storage area sorting through the messes gathered there. Seriously. There’s two years of stuff lying about there, and just yesterday I needed 4 hours to sort through the last of my tile collection.
Then today going through plastic, tubing and all that stuff, which is fascinating for me, and not so fascinating for you, so I am more than happy that I could supply the dream for a change. Hah.

It was also quite nippy, meaning that Chaos spent most of his time on my bed, huddling under the blankets. No matter that I made my bed three times he kept pulling everything loose to make a nest for himself, the son of a gun.

Knight II insisted on joining me up by the paddock, and was cold for most of the time. It did get him an appetite, so I didn’t mind. Heck, for the first time in ages he ate a full bowl in the evening.

Well, this will have to do the trick today. Not much else happening except for a failed cooking experiment with Oxalis. It wasn’t gross, but it also wasn’t anything to write home about. Luckily I had also baked potatoes, meaning that I could open a couple of cans to supplement for the veggies that failed during tonight’s supper. Turns out Oxalis is really, really sour, and though I can see possibilities with it if it is mixed with other stuff, as a sole vegetables it won’t be a big success. Think sauerkraut, but then with a somewhat bitter aftertaste. A pity. I will try again in the near future.

Gotta go.

Dream a little dream

Song of the day: “Rain” by Madonna. Boy, that has been a long time since I had anything of hers in my head. A good one, though.

Gotta go different again, though, seeing as I had another good dream that I have to write down and do something with, rather than let it disappear inside my head, the way some really good ones did in the past.

First off, though. Touri’s test result came in and even though it is a form of cancer, it is not the malignant kind that will metastasise into his vital organs in the immediate future. On the other hand, this is the nasty kind that you can hardly ever get away without removing something drastic, like the limb, so I’m going to have to see if some home remedies are going to be of any use. For the good part, Touri is extremely cheerful and is having more than enough fun dogging me around the property…pun intended, of course.

Second bit: We had to take apart the Daewoo this morning. Turns out that Sally (who’s been loaning the car to go to the doctor’s every other day) couldn’t get the car up the incline. So I while I drove her to the village with the Land Rover (killed and hour or so writing down my dream) big brother and grandpa put the car on elevation and started looking for the problem.
We figured it out ‘round the time I got home. Turns out Sally accidentally fuelled up on Diesel, which is…well not so good for a normal engine. *sigh*

Luckily we could drain the tank and put in a new batch, after which…the stupid Daewoo still didn’t function properly. It kept shutting down the moment we stopped using the gas. I opened the hood and yep, right there, hidden under the carburetor, a plug had come undone. Afterwards the car ran as usual, so…*phew* much relief on our part. Had we taken this vehicle to the shop, it would have cost us another mint, I’m sure.

Okay, on to more interesting stuff that gardening and whatnot. The Dream:

The moon shimmers in the last vestiges of night. Mist swirls on the deserted mountain peak as I stand there in the brisk breeze, tumbling from the north and tearing at my clothes. A thin cotton nightgown covers me from neck to feet. One of those hideous contraptions of Gothic romances, no doubt. There are frills and ruffles flaying around my ankles. And about my shoulders, an abundant tumble of dark curls dance madly in the wind.
It is one of those dreams where I know it’s a dream. Too little realism in my appearances, if you get my meaning.
But anyway…I stand there, looking over the placid lake that stretches out and shines like a mirror in the pale moonlight.
At my bare feet, dew covered grass teases my soles with jarring coldness. I am waiting, like I have waited forever (or so it seems) for someone, or something. It is like a fist of tension inside my chest, tightening with every passing, drawn-out second.
In the distance, I hear a wolf cry, and my senses are extremely keen on the lonesome quality of it.
Footsteps, I can suddenly hear them behind me, and spin on my heel with a sense of reckless anticipation.
“Kale?” His name is part supplication, part relief in my voice as slowly he materializes from the brushes at the bottom of the rocky slope.
There is a savagery in his eyes that I know well. An intensity that both frightens and excites me.
In the light of the moon his face is a detailed composition of harsh lines, angular and fierce like the brutally wild lands around me.
Everywhere the eye can see, jagged peaks, roughly cut pines and steep inclines rail down towards the crystalline lake.
I know this place. I’ve seen it many times before. And yet every time there is something different. Something elusive yet sinister in nature. Something other than the dark night.
As Kale approaches, his gait confident and predatory, I sense someone (or something) watching us. Someone dangerous. Someone infinitely more dangerous than the man striding towards me.
His hair is a wild tumble of black, reaching down his shoulders (in a very romance novel way, hah) and flaying in the wind much like my own.
He is dressed only in ragged trouser and a threadbare coat that appears made of a rough linen that must once have been white in color.
Like me, he wears no shoes but strides across pebbles and rocks without care.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, stopping only a few inches in front of me, and reaching up to tenderly stroke my cheek. The warmth of his skin is a shocking contrast against the cold wind, and I close my eyes for but a moment to fully enjoy it. “’Tis far too dangerous,” he ads, leaning closer, fully intending to kiss me, I’m sure, when suddenly, from the brushes from which he’d come a loud roar echoes. It chills me to the bone and I clutch at Kale’s shirt when he spins and pushes me behind him.
“Stay there,” he warns, the alarm a tangible tension humming through his powerful body as we both gaze at the bushes. They rustle warningly and then, from the depths of the shadows, a gigantic beast springs forth, snarling and growling, exposing massive teeth that glint dangerously in the light of the moon.
Kale pushes me further back, and murmurs something in a language that I do not know.
The creature, some hyena/hound/wolf/bear mix, pays no heed, but begins to circle its way closer towards us.
Beneath my hands I sense more than mere muscle movement from Kale. His hair shortens, his shoulders widen, and his spine begins to bend. Even as I watch, he rips off his clothes, thick black hair appearing all over the exposed skin, and his poise changing until he is on all fours.
Where the approaching creature (a werewolf, I faintly realize) is hideous with stubby hairs and mud caked sides, Kale is quite beautiful. Like a mighty wolf from fairytales of old, his massive claws rut in the grass at our feet. His eyes, fierce and green by the light of the moon, are only for the creature that is now only a few feet away from us.
Kale (fully wolf now) throws back his head and lets loose a mighty howl. Then he pushes away from me, and pounces on his opponent. Their two bodies collide mid air, bones grinding together as they battle each other like two hounds straight out of hell.
Teeth flashing, claws ripping, they are equally matched, and just when I contemplate aiding Kale in some way…I wake up with Dax on top of me.

Seriously, I could have wrung his neck for disrupting the dream before things got to be really interesting. *sigh* I hate it when that happens, but it was time to rise, so there really wasn’t much of a choice.

Today we had a wonderful lunch of cauliflower, green herbs, potatoes and cheese. Definitely one of my favorites these days.

There was a day in town. My phone broke down, so I had to bring it back to the store for repairs…meaning I had to get another so I would be reachable at least. Luckily, I had enough points in my contract to get a simple free one. Afterwards we had to get in line to gas up, followed by a seemingly endless search at the hardware store for tubing. I hate looking for tubing; it takes ages to look for all the connections and such. At some point, I left big brother to that and went to search for isolation material for the oven. Heck even trying to talk with the staff with stinted Spanish on my part and bad English on their, was better than going through all the boxes. Hah.

Afterwards I went to the sports store and got decently priced running shoes suited for running in the wild and with extra padding in the heel. The last time we went for a run, my heel was killing me for two days afterwards. *sigh*

Planted leek, uncovered plants for the warm day and then covered young plants again for the cold night. I know, very exciting, huh? But I liked it. In particular the working in the yard. It calmed me down a bit.

We went for my first cross-country run today and it went rather splendidly, if I do say so myself.
I only lost track of big brother twice, and on the overall, I got my breath back really fast. I went fast, even going uphill, and in the dry riverbed, it went even better, so, yay! Knight II is starting to enjoy it too, now, by the way. He keeps track at a trot, and barely leaves my side all the way. Seriously, there are times when I just grab hold of his collar so he can drag me up the last foot or two. Hah. But I’m glad he’s starting to like the whole walking in the wild thing. There might be a day some time in the future where he’ll actually have fun and doesn’t try to rush back into the car the moment the door opens. Hah.

Okay, gotta go. More edits to do, and all that.

Darned cars.

Song of the day: “A song for whoever” by the Beautiful South. Funny song. You should check the clip out some day. I’m sure you can find it on Youtube, it’ll be worth the effort, I assure you. Heck, you might even know it. Hah.

So let’s start with the bad bit of troubling news…The Matiz is still being fixed, so we still have the loaner Astra, darn it. The Land Rover on the other hand…is also still at the garage for fixing and won’t be back until Tuesday, darn it, meaning that I’m going to have to do the distributing in the Daewoo or the friggin’ Astra on Monday, which is going to be darn frustrating for as far as I’m concerned. Seriously, have you any idea how hard it is to get in and out of tiny cars when you’re over six feet tall. Gawd, my thighs are already complaining about the upcoming exercise.

The weather is still wonderfully cool, in case you’re wondering. It allows for some decent project time, which, for the past couple of days was putting together that terrace table, and painting it with the help of tenant, who appeared to enjoy helping out.
It looks darn pretty now by the way. Like new, and nicely solid seeing as it is made of hard wood with a rather pretty design. Yes, I should be taking pictures of that too, and add it to the massive list I’m supposed to post in the near future. Grrr. They’re there, I just have to take the time to go through them, darn it.

There has been gardening, of course. Some nice tomato harvests and new zucchinis aplenty. For some reason the plants decided to start all over, so the things are everywhere again. Not bad, considering that we were worrying about harvests being over and done with.

Second project this week is making a solid, closed-off space for the dog kibble. The rat population has been rapidly growing so we need to close it up properly. Meaning that as of this morning we are digging out a section behind my cabin, pouring a concrete floor, so we can start building a small wall, a roof and a couple of doors in front of it, et voila.
Considering I always love a good project this will certainly do for this weekend.

Writing has been going slow and steady. Not too bad, though. One more page and I’ll be at ninety. Just ten more pages and then I’ll be halfway into the story, yay! It’s going well enough, I guess. The characters are deepening, getting to be more interesting…even though it is of course only a romance novel with no action in it whatsoever. Darn it.

I finished the Richard Montanari novel, and it wasn’t too bad, all things considered. It will never be my favorite genre, but it is entertaining. This morning I started on Tom Clancy’s Power play, Shadow Watch. It is fascinating to go into these different genres, especially since they are free, hah. I’m definitely seeing it as research, and I’m learning a lot.

Oh my, I dreamed about zombies again. I was a little itchy from it when I woke, which is ridiculous considering it was much like “Dawn of the Dead” and “Resident Evil” which’s movies I liked well enough. And yet, in the dream it all got to be rather intense, so I’ve been trying to get over the itchiness for the majority of the morning.

Poor Bommel appears to be feeling a bit better with the cleaned ears, so yay. Manni (little sister’s Cocker Spaniel) had to go to the vet the other day, and got operated on his ear. He had a massive tumor in it and they removed I without complications during the course of the day. Poor dog was so happy to be home he rubbed himself all over little sister’s bed. Hah.

Well, time for me to get back to work on the storage place for the dog food. Still a bit that needs to be done, and only so many hours in a day. Gotta go.

Dream or writing? Take your pick.

Another dream today, which was far less interesting than the last one, really. I mean, seriously, there were no special effects, hot pursuits, shootouts or anything that bears resembles an action flick even remotely. Such a shame, really and not to mention a complete waste of my time. What am I supposed to do with this rather Shakespearean, historically correct excuse of dream? I certainly don’t need it for future projects.

Hmmm. Stupid question, considering I haven’t told about the dream yet…my bad.
So, let me give you a quick sum-up of what the dream entailed.
It bored the life out of me that’s a fact.

A woman, I think her name was Brianna, or something like that. She was young, no more than seventeen, I’m guessing, but since it was the middle ages, she was of course engaged to be married to a man she had never met before.
He was a warrior, I think: A big giant of dude about as emotionally inept as a friggin’ mule and speaking in monosyllables most of the time. He considered marriage an inconvenience that was necessary to gain an heir, and was about twice her age, if not more. (Thus the historically correctness I complained about, aargh.) He was called McHugh…in the dream, in case that wasn’t clear.
The wedding was held, a party thrown and drunk-to-the-bone hubby passed out after consummating the “holy” matrimony.
Grand! I feel soooo honored to have been there to witness it in my dream. Really! I do!
But anyways, Brianna, hopeful that they might have a comfortable life together at least, does her very best to make their relationship work, but finally admits defeat as hubby spends most of his time playing war games and visiting the local…ehm, harlots? I believe they were called that.
So they were married for a bit, he had done his husbandly duty and then spent several years of their lives basically ignoring her.
Then, quite suddenly, (I think I was so friggin’ bored by that time, I was trying to make something romantic out of the story, but who knows? It was still a dream) out of the blue, he realized that he truly did love the young damsel who had, at that time, not entirely voluntary, born him two children…boys, if memory serves me right.
The dude was getting older, realizing that life was finite, yadayadayada, so he starts to wonder, why does the little woman barely even spare me a glance?
Duh! (It cracks me up sometimes the way dreams work)
He tries, rather ineptly…understatement! Considering he still wants his husbandly rights…to woo his wife of several years. But, having been ignored for so long she has hardened her heart and consistently continues to deflect his overtures.
McHugh, gives one last try on the day when a large feast is celebrated at their massive castle. They’ve been married for ten years by than and have four kiddies. I know, birth control, why wasn’t it available. Grrr.
Much older now, and weary due to his pained heart (she’s basically ignoring him at that time) over her continuing coldness, McHugh drops on his knees in front of her, asking her if she cannot find even a glimmer of warmth in her heart for him; her “dear” husband?
She looks at him blandly, barely seeing him and then focuses her gaze, meets his eyes for the first time in years, and says something like: “How can I care for the man who has crushed my heart with indifference for so many years. You killed whatever feeling I might have had for you, McHugh.” (I know, the prose struck me too)
She turned away, leaving her hubby behind, defeated and emotionally crushed as she heads into the great hall to join the festivities.
Later that night the castle burns down and I wake up, figuring that both protagonists died.

Now, I ask you: What is the morale of such a story? I mean, isn’t it utterly depressing? Gawd! Talk about useless stories to experience in a dream. I can’t even use it because I hate endings like that. Aaargh.

Phew. Glad I got that over and done with. On to the day:

I’m gonna skip the morning rituals and laundry, ‘cause let’s face it, the dream was more than enough realism for one day. Hah.

The edit: It is awesome! We have finally reached the previously mentioned love-scene and it was perfectly tasteful when we started on it, but then we went and spiced it up and added humor. I had so much fun!

I’ll give a paragraph for an example, but first I’ll write a short intro into the scene.
They (protagonists) just spend the night doing THE deed and Nina (heroine) wakes up in her most annoying and aggressive personality, Lena, ‘cause of the morning after awkwardness.
Rory (hero) watches her wake up, mentally berating himself for mixing business with pleasure. They talk; her behavior is not friendly, and he is trying to smooth things over. He succeeds, she heads for the shower and when she reappears another personality has taken over: Joey (short for Josephine) who’s straightforward and doesn’t have a grain of modesty in her body.

(Now keep in mind, this is modern, very up-to-date to present standards and maybe a tad…ehm, crude. I want this to come across as humorous, rowdy and from a somewhat male perspective. Hah)

***
"Rory?" Nina turned around and looked at him questioningly.
The look was enough to let him know that he had been so mesmerized by her reversed striptease that he had failed to hear her speak. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"
"I asked, at what time do we meet with your friends?" she repeated, looking at him thoughtfully as she cocked her head sideways to study his unblinking gaze.
He knew that she saw the desire burning fiercely, but found himself incapable of hiding the effect she had on him. She just had to stand there, looking adorably cute in the tiny shirt and black panties underneath. Aw hell! There was no way he’d be able to hide his boner now.
"Around four in the afternoon," he managed to ground out past the tightness in his throat. Her eyes snapped up to meet his and an I’m-going-to-get-me-some grin formed on her face. "Well, that sure sounds like we've got enough time…just barely" she purred.
***

I don’t know if the excerpt does the scene justice since there was a lot leading up to it, but I can hardly start posting an entire chapter just to satisfy this irrepressible need to share. Hah.
Let’s just say that I hope that it comes across in the way I mean for it to come across.

We’re at it for several hours, at which time we have to cut it off again to head on out with the car. We need more rocks, considering the present pile is rapidly dwindling.
Today’s weather was not at all suitable for building, much to everyone’s regret, so big brother didn’t get sand and cement this morning. The rain wouldn’t have allowed it.

It is still coming down erratically when I drive away from the property, big brother, little sister and grandpa in the car with me. We head down the main road, making our way around the mountain to this remote path we know. It is in this place that we know we can find a lot of rocks, just lying about.

Much to our annoyance the hour we have picked to do this particular chore is jogging hour of the locals, making the progress on the winding, unpaved road slow until we come upon a section in the woods where rocks lay spread over the ground in satisfying numbers.

For the next half hour we lift, carry and throw big (and small) rocks into the truck bed, until finally it is filled to capacity and we can start on our way back. Thankfully the rain stopped while we were busy, but clouds are once again gathering, giving rather spectacular views of the sun slashing across the impressive countryside.

We just about reach our property when the rain has started again giving a massive rainbow that arches from our mountain to the sea, giving a rather grand image…especially when a second one appears as well.
I’ve made pictures, but it remains to be seen whether or not I’ll be able to figure out how to post it on such short notice, hah.

The rain lasts only for a few minutes and we can start unloading the truck almost immediately, adding to the pile, still there, considerably.
We chat a little with one of our tenants and then head inside for the meal mom has prepared for us by the time nightfall arrives.

There’s very little on TV today, so we watch a recorded episode of “CSI” before we resume the edit. It goes well, even though we only have one hour to devote to it (we reach two thirds of the story today, which is a friggin’ milestone, all things considered) and then it’s time for me to head on up to the cabin for the nightly rituals, such as the Blog. Hah.

Now, if only the weather will cooperate a little, we’ll resume building again tomorrow. I do hope so.

Building some, yay.

Last night I was determined not to think of the lessons at all, until the day I actually have to do it. Two hours after bedtime, without really noticing it, I’m still thinking about the friggin’ lesson that was and the three that are still to come…and then I’m not even mentioning the exams that will follow. This friggin’ brain just won’t stop. It drives me bonkers sometimes.

For two whole hours stuff like: smoother, smoother, faster, faster, stop now…not here, go there, go here, did you see that, did you notice this? Aargh. Finally, upon realizing that I was still thinking about the crap, I started chanting, “Stop! Stop! Stopstopstopstop!” in my head until I finally fell asleep.

It’s a miracle I’m still sane this morning when I wake up at the sound of the alarm. (I know, whether I’m sane or not is open for debate, but what the heck.) Though somewhat sore like yesterday, I’m feeling a tad better when I get up from the bed and let the dogs out so I can do my stretches.

Today isn’t looking promising, even though the weather appears to be pleasant enough. The sun shines brightly and only a minimal amount of clouds dot the sky overhead when I head down to the house to tackle the massive amount laundry that I forgot to do yesterday.

Luckily big brother offers to help while grandpa stands close talking pleasantly about whatever it was he’s heard on TV. It makes for a nice change to my usual humming. Hah. It takes almost forty minutes to hang and fold it all, and by that time my stomach is snarling for food. After a quick breakfast and a big mug of coffee in hand we set up our computers to start on today’s editing session.

We come upon a particularly complicated scene that requires a lot of time and attention. It turns out that even though the scene is good, it needs quite a few adjustments to really make sense. It wasn’t wrong before, just not complete…if that makes any sense?

For several hours we ruthlessly hack our way through grammar and general structure, basically rewriting the scene, until, when it’s time for us to get ready to go to the village, we’ve added four more pages to the “done” section of the book.
While we get ready to depart a strong northern wind picks up, making things look bleak for our intended bonfire. It’s stirring up to be a nice storm that’ll make fire just too dangerous. Blast it!

But first, mom has an appointment with the doctor, and I need to be there because the spot he operated on a couple of months ago feels tender again. We’ve decided that, rather than letting things get out of hand, like the last time, he better check it out.
The plan is (while we’re at the doc’s) for big brother to visit local paper stores in search for U.S. letter size paper…though it is doubtful that we’ll be able to get it ‘round here.

The way towards the village is under construction–for some reason the county thinks people need a bloody four-lane road to get from one village to the next–so it’s a bumpy ride that goes annoyingly slow.

Once the doctor’s appointment is over and done with, and the search for paper has turned out to be completely useless, we head back home, knowing that, by the time we get closer to home that the wind hasn’t stopped, but increased. No outside work today, much to my regret. I was kind of looking forward to working up a sweat. It is the best way to deal with the stress that has been accumulating during the past week.

But anyways, when we arrive home, little brother has prepared pasta with sauce for dinner and we eat it quickly, since–now that gardening is out of the question–we’ve decided that I will go up to little sister’s room and work on the cabinets under her bed. According to her the backs have been pushed out due to a lack of space, so while I take away the mattress and bottom alike, I start examining the cabinets to figure out how I can make them a bit deeper.

Since I have the supplies and tools I need to do the job, it doesn’t take long to come up with a plan. By making a sturdy back I can add a good five inches to the cabinets without much trouble. Instead of fastening the back to the old section, I set it at a slight distance, add two side panels and a top, and voila, new storage capacity in just a few hours.

Because the sibs are more than old enough to do this kind of stuff themselves, I take the time to let little sister do a lot of the work herself, explaining to her the entire process as the cabinets get built. I tell her of the little tricks that will make carpentry easier, how to use the drill properly and all those things she needs to know to be able to do this on her own at some point in the future.

I hear an occasional howl from my pack, which I couldn’t take up with me due to the younger sibs’ dogs seeing the upper part of the house as their territory, I already know that my canine companions are going to throw up quite a fuss when I return.

Once we’re done it is close to midnight, and I head down to the living area to relax a bit. Throughout the hours that I was busy with little sister, big brother has been working on the book some more, doing another round of what we’ve recently added and taking out those remaining typos that keep sneaking back into the manuscript.

After a quick snack, lots of drinking (the work made me parched) and a much-deserved cigarette the hour has passed and it’s time for me to head up to the cabin. My dogs are waiting to be fed, the evening rituals and even some cleanup chores need to be done and then it’s on to the blog.

A slow and long day, but luckily we got something done.