Three Different Ways

Category: A Different Way

  • Pepper Spray Carols

    So, um, yea. A call was put out to make pepper spray themed Christmas carols. I might have gone too far with it. My first attempt was based on “Let It Snow“, and I chucked around three ‘verses’ for the fun of it. But my muse would just not allow me to leave it there.

  • Practical Distinctions

    So, there’s a blog anthology site I contribute to called Practical Pagans. And there is a podcast show starting next week called Practical Druidry. The two are NOT related. Practical Pagans has contributions from pagan bloggers of many different paths, temperaments, and viewpoints. Our resident druids are Blackbird O’Connell and Morgan Daimler. Practical Druidry is…

  • London Broil Marinade

    I found this marinade in the comments section of the Chowhound Post: “Tips on marinating/tenderizing London Broil“. It worked really well the first time I tried it, but I completely forgot to save my notes AND the page link. So I’m placing it here where I can’t possibly forget it. Because yummies should be shared.

  • Silly Girl, I Wasn’t Thru

    Deep laughter echoing through worlds and dreams. I know that sound so well. I thought I would never hear it again. My heart both rose and fell. “I’ve sent you an invite, informal and vulgar. Through muck and field, for you. Don’t know why you’ve tossed away my number, Silly girl, I wasn’t thru.

  • Rum And Cigars

    I took the door not meant for me. You laughed and offered me a chair. I sought only advice. You laughed and gave gifts. I told you what I wanted. You laughed and gave me what I needed.

  • To Oshun, From Margaret’s Daughter

    Your skin glistens, draping your form like sun-warmed honey. Full of the sweetness and delights of womanhood.

  • You Are Here

    Everything was white. I couldn’t tell where the floor ended and where the ceiling began. If there was a ceiling. I had yet to encounter a wall. Or chair. Or another person. Or a speck of dirt. Everything was white, glowing white. Except for me. I’m still in the clothes I left for work in.

  • The Call

    He watched his roommate pace back and forth for hours. Each time he passed the phone, he would linger for the briefest of moments. Unusually bright eyes caressed each curve and dirt stained buttons. He had tried to get his roommate to sit down, to be distracted by the routine they had built up together.

  • Redressing The Wound

    So I broke apart and bleed in public again. In a Starbucks, no less. The few that asked about my tearful eyes and swollen nose were told, “The Santa Anas have started, and they are taking their due.”. They would smile and nod in understanding, pass on their seasonal advice, and promptly forget about me.

  • A Host Of Shadows

    This happened over three years ago, in the early spring of 2008. I am reminded of it every time I turn onto the freeway. PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Sleepy driving is deadly. If you are tired, pull over. Better a ticket than killing yourself or others. Do not assume what saved my ass will save yours.