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Reading, Writing, Pondering: Big Life Themes, Literature, Contemporary/Historical Issues |
 Welcome to the 14th century, in a farflung outpost of the Holy Roman Empire, and a new Convent outpost of the terrrifically powerful Roman Catholic Church. Sound historically dull? Hopefully not so--for this is NOT an ordinary 14th Century Convent. Back after a six-year hiatus.... From NaNoWriMo historical Supernatural novels in Scotland, Michigan, South Alabama and historical horror in Standwood Station, GA-to the Phantom Northern Woods-to singlehandedly refighting the American Civil War-to exploring Social Justice and standing for First Amendment rights under the U.S. Constitution-we deal out horror, Supernatural, Historical, fantasy, mystery, and more. We do not fear outspokeness. And always, always, always, We Do History. Find it here. We write it. We read it. We hold strong opinions. We orate. Meanwhile, whether we're writing or just reading, we love to rave about books and authors right here!  |
| Plenty of items of note today: Abby Sunderland, 16 year old solo sailor whose circumnavigation of the globe was interrupted by damage to her sailboat during heavy weather in the Indian Ocean, has safely returned home to Thousand Oaks, California (amid controversy I am sure). California Highway Patrol is alarmed that five patrolmen have been killed in six weeks, two on Sunday. Last night the BoycottBP site of “Bayou Lee” on Facebook was removed by FB; it's back now. My first thought when my adult daughter informed me this morning that the site had been pulled was, “Shades of the 1968 Chicago Democratic Convention-repression of free speech.” Those as antique as I will well remember the protests and police dogs. Tropical Storm Alex threatens to upgrade to hurricane status; we all need to pray it does not, and in fact that it dissipates, quickly. I continue to have Internet access problems, which causes a lot of irritability  , even on a “new” PC with a tremendously faster system. Finding The Abandoned Child, my novel of Environmental Disaster Fantasy: Chapter Thirteen Oh, I knew JUST what was coming on now: Mamma was about hear exactly what I had discovered such a very short while ago, whom, when, where, and she would piece together instantly (as if she had not already) that I was where and when I was told not to be. Oh, no, she had never specifically told me not to be at Denguer Road at Swan Street at that particular time; but she surely had ordered me to remain at the Shelter with the cousins, she sure had indeed. And I had not. And had been “officially” discovered, as my discovery would be recorded at The Treasury just as soon as Constable-in-Training Peggott Larrs returned there from the site. But oddly it seemed Mamma did not wish to discuss that just yet, or perhaps she only wanted to discuss it in private, with me (and administer her own brand of discipline-not corporal per se, but multitudes of chores and solitude. Of course, the solitude I never minded, nor did I mind spending hours dusting-and reading-in Pastor Janns' study, my usual discipline.) Instead Mamma now announced: “Jah-leeahl, you and Janthro will move in with us. Our new compound has plenty of space to contain us all. It is much more expansive than the compound we have lived in since...you left.” An aunt of whom I knew nothing-and now a family secret? My ears perked for sure now, and from the middle of the street where I walked behind my newly-discovered aunt and cousin, I yearned to hear more. But of course, as was Mamma's way, I was not to learn anything further just yet. “Fenrich, when we are settled-that is, as soon as all our possessions are carried in, you and I and the nephews are going to the waterfront to help on the clean-up. Janthro, you are welcome to come as well.” The boy-my “new” cousin-looked at Mother but did not speak. His mother, however, answered. “I too will join in, as soon as we have reached your new compound and I can change to more appropriate clothing.” Currently she wore a long dull black skirt, and a long-sleeved shirt of a matte black fabric. Personally, I thought it would be too hot, but-perhaps she was in mourning. Although she did seem not to know of the death more than a year ago of her sister! Apparently they (she and her son) had been living in town, right close to the City Center, on Denguer Road, yet knew nothing of Mother's family? Or they did know, but chose not to involve themselves. I didn't know, and likely would not find anything out for some time to come, seeing as how my mother-and sometimes Pastor Janns-could be extraordinarily close-mouthed. So it seemed that in addition to my lovely morning walk as far as Swan Street and now on to Mohltrissen, to the new compound, and carrying packages from Denguer Road partial distance up the Palm Highway, and getting to help unload and unpack at the new home, now I would get to spend my day (and probably many days to come) helping in the clean-up at the Wharf. This, at least, I could do and appreciate, because it was essential and because it would help-the fisherfolk, the ship workers and equipment builders, and if we could, the sea life (although about that I was not so certain at all). It was these long unnecessary walks trailing Mother who so quickly disappeared, the discovery of the infant, and explaining to the Constable-in-Training, the package-toting, that wore me out. But the cleaning up I could look forward to, because I would be making myself useful to others and helping out. Additionally, I was sure many people would participate as well, and I might see some of the young folks I knew, few as they were, because my family was rather insular (not as much so as my newly-discovered aunt's, apparently) and Mother kept us to ourselves, both she and Pastor Janns taking it as their responsibility to school myself and both cousins. I imagined now that Mamma would probably insist on schooling Janthro also, and that his mother would probably accede-seeing as how apparently they two were to live in our compound. Hmm-we already had five in our household before encountering them-this would make seven. I dearly hoped indeed that the new complex would be that much enlarged. |
| Remembering Sen. Robert Byrd, who has passed at age 92. No matter one's political viewpoints, this man carved his own niche in U.S. History and will not be forgotten. Yesterday I signed up for JulNoWriMo, another off-season version of National Novel Writing Month, like MarNoWriMo, for which I am very grateful. It's a wonderful feeling of accomplishment for me and very appealing to my emotional stability to concentrate on writing 50,000 words in 30 days (or in this case, 31). I'll be working to complete both the Environmental Fantasy Novel Finding The Abandoned Child which I began June 6, and the Novel I worked on March 23-31 during MarNoWriMo, putting it aside for April Script Frenzy, Child-Puppets of The Testament Logging Corporation, Book Three of The Testament Logging Corporation Series which may or may not be the final book. Likely not: I have an intution that the hero of Books One and Two and one of the heroines may well marry and their child will then become the heir which The Testament Logging Corporation will so intensely endeavour to destroy. Well, we shall see. Finding The Abandoned Child Chapter Ten “Fenrich, we must indeed have a talk. Let us get these items to the new home, and then we shall have to conference before your appointment at the Treasury. I preferred to wait until this evening, but I am afraid that now we must have our discussion before your statement to the Constable's office.” Lifting a hand as if she expected me to be about to speak, which indeed I was, she continued: “No, child, do not attempt to tell me right now. I shall summon Pastor Janns and we shall all meet together at the new compound and lay out our plans. He can bring the nephews with him and they can play out in the yard.” I forbore to remind her that “the nephews” were eleven and twelve, and so not much given to playing in the yard any longer. She would do as she saw fit, and as permanent head of the household, I would not be the one to brook her. We continued on in silence, leaving Denguer Road to walk North on Palm Highway, a narrow residential avenue which was far from being a highway, but like Swan Street to the East, extended from North to South, ending at the Harbour, just a bit Westward of the Wharf. Several of the fisherfolk houses had been located at the bottom end of Palm Highway-until the tidal waves had completedly destroyed that end of our fair city: homes, wharves, fish, fishing boats, ship's chandlers, shipbuilders, and equippers, gone into the raging Sea along with the piers, docks, and anything unlucky enough to be in range, inanimate or animate-all was gone now. Small houses snoozed on either side of the street, as we turned right from Denguer Road's end at Palm Highway. No one stirred here, nor had we seen anyone on Denguer-other than the silent infant I had discovered, and later Constable-in-Training Peggott Larrs. We had paused for a moment to gaze South down to the end of the street, where the fisher folk housing had been. Before the night before last, small homes, cabins, and a long building which Pastor Janns once told me served as The Lodge of the Order of the Golden Manitou, dotted the near side of the wharf. Now only a few scattered timbers lay around, and I could see a fireplace partically standing where the Lodge had once been proud. As I turned to go right, some of the boxes with which Mamma had burdened me started to shift out of my arms, so I paused to look down and straighten them as best I could. While my attention was so occupied, I heard Mamma mutter, “A wagon! Why didn't I think of that?” By the sound of her tone I knew she was moving away from me and headed up Palm Highway to the North. Once we reached that end of the street, we would be at the edge of Mohltrissen, a tiny suburb of the City of Mellaigch which crouched almost like a buffer between our City itself and Golden Heights, the conclave housing all the wealthy, the shipowners, well-to-do merchants, and many of the faculty and all of the administration of the Apothecary College (only the newest instructors, the lowest-paid, lived at or near the College). When I finally got my packages underway and turned myself, I looked farther up the road past Mamma, now some distance away, and saw her staring at the very woman and young boy whom I had encountered in the alley immediately after my discovery of the naked abandoned infant, and whom I had asked to call for a Constable and Healer. Mamma had ceased to just stare and begun to walk toward them briskly. They were maybe three blocks farther North, possibly headed in the direction of Mohltrissen as were we, but they could have been moving toward one of the quiet houses along Palm Highway on either side. Although silent here as well, the lack of sound was still much more viable than on Denguer Road; one could feel that folks still lived here, even though they might all be inside, or away for the nonce. I tried to speed up myself, and started calling out to Mamma, when I realized that she wasn't just in a hurry to reach our new compound in Mohltrissen-she was actually trying to speak to the woman and young boy. Well, hopefully she only wanted to ask if they had an extra wagon to spare or knew where she could acquire one for our move; but very possibly (certainly by the time I reached them) the woman would mention my discovery. Well, I could stop still where I was at, thereby making a fool of myself as well as disobedient; I could disappear into thin air, but had not yet been taught that particular mode of sorcery; or I could just keep trudging along, knowing that I would not reach Mamma before Mamma reached the Denguer Road alley woman and her son, nephew, or servant. Chapter Eleven I estimated that I might have been four houses farther South than Mother, both of us on the left side of Palm Highway, when she caught up to the woman from the alley with her boy. I had stopped yet again to adjust my load-one of the boxes seemed ready to fall, and I was surely ready to set it down and continue on without it-when I looked up to see Mamma reaching for the woman's right shoulder. Before she touched her, the woman turned around and looked up at Mamma (for she was perhaps four inches shorter) full in the face, solemnly. Yet I heard Mamma exclaim, “Jah-leeahl!” I startled: Mamma's late sister, mother of my cousins Natay-lee and Jahro, had been named Ja-lil-ah-but she had died more than a year ago, in a drowning accident off her fishing boat, after which her sons had come to live in Mother's compound. No, Mamma had not called out “Ja-lil-ah,” but a similar name. I bent to pick up the box I had set on the sidewalk and when I stood up, saw that Mamma was motioning me forward, and that the boy was taking Mamma's packages and loading them in a spot he had rendered empty toward the near side of their wagon. He worked a lot faster than I moved, for I was still halfway distant when he ran back to me and took up most of my load, returning to add it to the wagon. Mamma continued to frown at my dilatoriness, so now unburdened I sped up and reached the three. “This is Fenrich,” Mamma announced, pulling me forward by a shoulder. “Na-tay-lee and Jahro are in the household, of course, but currently remain at the Gymnasium in shelter, where Fenrich should have been,” she glared at me. “You know of Ja-lil-ah, of course,” she said to this strange woman, who still held silent. Finally she spoke, turning from her contemplation of the street (she had made no attempt to help the boy finish loading) to look at Mamma again. “No.” After fifteen years in her society I was accustomed to Mamma being silent mostly; Pastor Janns, the constant scholar, spoke more than did she. I tended not to be too talkative myself. But this woman seemed more to resemble a clam than a human creature. After that one word she fell silent again and returned to staring at the ground, then spun around and watched the boy rope down our possessions and motion him to push the wagon forward. Even Mamma looked perplexed at this strange reaction, but continued nonetheless. “OUR sister Ja-lil-ah passed in New Season, more than a year ago, in the March month. She drowned off her fishing boat, in an unexpected tide. Her sons came to live in our compound: Na-tay-lee and Jah-ro. Twelve and eleven. Fenrich-my child-is fifteen. And yours?” The woman turned slowly around again, this time not looking at Mamma. “Jarr-o. Fifteen.” Then she turned her back on both of us and started following the boy-I guess her son-up the road. Mamma and I stepped up to the sidewalk and followed as well, Mamma determined to discuss the housing situation with this strange oddity, me just thankful no one had mentioned my recent discovery of the silent naked abandoned child. Chapter Twelve The City of Mellaigch had existed for nearly a millenium without quakes, volcanoes (there were none nearby on our island), tsunamis, tidal waves, forest fires (we had forests, but mostly on the other side of the island, and lightning had never struck there sufficiently to commence a fire), or any other natural disasters. Nor had Mellaigch ever been subjected to invasion, civil war, or much crime. But our sense of entitlement, adventure, and security had all dissolved now. Our peace in our surroundings, our trust that just as sun follows night follows sun, one day would turn into another unendingly, had collapsed. Now we knew nothing for certain, except that nothing was certain. Anything now could happen, and already had: a tidal wave had washed away our Harbour and our fisheries and our shipbuilding enterprises and equipment installers, I had discovered a naked, silent, abandoned, infant in a spot which had been empty when I first passed, I had an aunt-another sister of my mother-of whom I had known nothing, and a cousin I also had not known, and it was this unknown aunt to whom I had unwittingly appealed for help to contact the Constable and the Healers. Anything now could happen-and yet one more example was about to present it to my astonished eyes. “Jah-leeah, have you a place?” asked my Mother, who seemed not at all astonished to have discovered her missing younger sister. The woman turned slighty, but did not meet Mamma's eyes. “No, not as yet.” “Where were you living?” “On Denguer Road, where I met your daughter.” Now Mamma turned to me with astounded gaze. “Fenrich? When did you meet Fenrich?” My new aunt turned toward me, where I walked in the center of the street, while she and her son Jantho walked at the edge of the street where a curb ought to be, and Mamma strolled up the sidewalk like the General in charge. Aunt Jah-leeah gazed solemnly at me (I had not yet seen her expression change even once, from the time I had first encountered her on Denguer Road Alley earlier today) and she seemed simply to be waiting for me to take up the tale. I refused-or at least I would continue to refuse until Mamma pressed me. Once Mamma's interrogation began, I would of necessity tell all. I thought, though, that Mamma would be willing to wait until we reached our compound, and possibly until we were settled in. I decided to sidetrack the conversation at once. “Mamma, how much more do we lack of moving?” “All of the contents of Pastor Janns' study are being carted to our new compound even now. I have brought with me that which was of most importance and which did not need to be exposed to others.” She waved a hand lightly toward the wagon, which now contained ours as well as Aunt Jah-leeah's possessions. Surely she and Jantho could not have brought everything of theirs? “After the men unload and install Pastor Jann's study in the new compound, they will return to our former home and pack up all that is left and bring it to us. Our home will be ready completely by this evening. Then no unpacking will be left to be done. And Jah-leeah, I do appreciate your allowing us the partial use of your cartage as well; I fear Fenrich was feeling burdened down.” No response was given to that, so Mamma continued. “So, Jah-leeah, you do not have a place?” “Not as yet-I adjudged that our former home might no longer be safe or suitable. We do not know how much more destruction is to come. And even if none-well, the fisherfolk must themselves move, those that are left, and I think that is all of them, and they will need to relocate as close as possible to the sea, I suppose. All of the houses on our street are empty now at least.” “So you lived where all this time, without me knowing?” “Jantho and I resided on Denguer Road-" |
| Four more days and June will be finished. In the Northern Hempisphere, we entered Summer six days ago; in the Southern Hemisphere, Winter. Been over two months since Big Petroleum's Deepwater Horizon offshore rig exploded and incinerated, killing several, and creating an Environmental Disaster that just won't quit. Not to mention how the Propaganda Machine grinds on.... What was that proverb? "The Mills of God grind exceedingly slow, but they grind exceedingly fine." Well, the Big Petroleum Propaganda Machine grinds extremely gritty, oily, tarry, and destructive. Today's book recommendation: Tom Knox, The Genesis Secret. I read Mr. Knox' second novel, The Mark of Cain first and didn't like it at all, but this one is riveting. Not for the faint of heart most definitely as he explores, through his characters, a multitude of historical versions of murder and torture, but if you can stomach that, the book has many fascinating historical and contemporary explorations into comparative religions, untold history, and more. Good characterization, light on the sensual (in other words, romantic relationships are not dealt in erotic detail), but as I stated, extraordinarily gory and violent. Today's Free Read, from my novel-in-progress of Environmental Disaster Fantasy, Finding The Abandoned Child Chapter Nine As Constable-in-Training Larrs and I continued to puzzle over the mystery of the baby, I soon discovered also that I was not going to be able to conceal my disobedience after all, even though I had continued to hope. Booted footsteps crossing Swan Street turned Larrs' head and mine, and we both spotted my mother at the same time, though I am sure I was much more dismayed. Loaded down with packages, boxes, and totes, Mamma looked as stern as usual. Constable-in-Training Larrs immediately held out her left arm straight, palm out, in a silent order to halt. Clearly she was not acquainted with my parent. The palm nor the expression stopped Mamma, nor even caused her to slow her pace. She kept proceeding toward us, till finally Larrs jumped up and rushed along the sidewalk toward her. “Madame, please!! We have a situation here! I'm serarching for evidence! Please halt!!” “THAT is my daughter, and you will not keep me from her.” Mamma pointed at me, despite the fact that she juggled several boxes. I backed into Denguer Street, avoiding the sidewalk entirely, and moved up the street toward her, reqching out to take some of the boxes and bags, without ever once looking up to meet her eyes. She handed me half a dozen boxes and totes, nearly overloading me, then leveled her stern gaze on the Constable-in-Training. “And just what did happen here, Constable-in-Training?” she asked in a near whisper. I wondered how she knew Pegott Larrs was not yet a full constable, but then I remembered that Mamma had her finger on the pulse of this City. I took advantage of what I hoped to be their mutual distraction and started edging away, West along Denguer. Fortunately they seemed at first not to notice me. “Madame, your daughter located an infant abandoned right along here.” Larrs indicated the section of grass where I had first seen the baby, mentioning to Mamma that no strands had been broken or crushed or flattened, and that there appeared no sign that anyone had walked there, or moved across the lawn at all, including the baby. Mamma glanced at the grass, then immediately up at the house, then back to me. I had by now moved almost opposite the wide space between the corner house on whose lawn I had discovered the baby, and the next house, which sat some distance farther West, and farther back from the street. I don't know how she spotted me so fast as I was moving quietly and I had gotten quite some distance, but nonetheless she did, and despite the boxes she still carried, she managed to aim her left index finger at me. “Fenrich-it's time for you to go home. Take all those to our new house and unpack them.” “Our “new” house, Mamma?” “Yes, child, the new house. Oh-I did not tell you yet.” She glanced at Larrs and apparently thought better of sharing information aloud, so she motioned to the Constable-in-Training with a “wait just a minute” gesture and stepped out into the street, walking up to me, and turning me West so that my back was to the Constable-in-Training. Whispering in my ear, she related, “Pastor Janns and I have acquired a new compound, at 131311 LittleBack Lane, in Mohltrissen. Turning back to Constable-in-Training Larrs, Mamma spoke firmly. “i will have my daughter Fenrich at the Treasury at 1 PM. We must go now; we are in the process of transferring our possessions from our former compound to our new home. If needs be, I will record that address when I bring her this afternoon. And for now, good day, Miss.” With that, we headed off West.{/b} |
| Chapter Eight Disaster-natural or otherwise-had never befallen our fair city before. In my fifteen years, I had experienced only peace and a fair amount of plenty; in Pastor Janns' study I had read, at his and Mamma's joint directives, much of the histories of our City: Mellaigch was located at the confluence of three hills, overlooking a fine harbor inlet, specifically because it was considered a lucky, a blessed, locale. Royal sorcerers dispatched by the King had scoured this region before determining which locality would be preferable to construct a colony city, and here we still were. Nearly a millenia had passed without serious windstorms, tidal waves, quakes, forest fires, plagues, or any other such horrid disaster-until the night before last, when the sea turned against us and destroyed our shores. All this consideration passed through my thoughts while I watched Constable-in-Training Larrs carefully examine the sidewalk where I had stepped, the grass between the sidewalk and the street where I stood now, and then the area of lawn where the silent infant had lain, staring up at me. I realized that suddenly, as I had apparently overlooked it at the time, and decided to mention it toher, in case that might be considered evidence too. “The baby stared at me-he actually watched me-even before I turned, I think,” I told her now. She now stood on the sidewalk, and had been leaning forward to more closely study the grass, I guess, but now she straightened, turned, and gazed at me quizzically. “What do you mean, Miss Fenrich?” “The baby-the baby I found. I just remembered that when I turned from the corner and started to walk back this way, that's what caugth my attention-I mean, I felt the attention-you know how you do when someone's looking your way!” She looked on at me a moment longer, then nodded, and glanced back to the spot where the infant had lain. The grass, I noticed now, had not even matted down, which made no sense. I pointed that out to her too. She said she had noticed that. “So you think the infant stared at you, and that is what took your attention?” “Yes, Constable-in-Training, I do think so. I felt “the stress of his regard,” as it were-I read that phrase in a book once,” I smiled. She just nodded again and crouched down to study the grass, poking at strands with a pencil she took from her tunic pocket. “See? No matting, no disturbance, no evidence. Just does not make any sense. Illogical. I don't understand this. That infant had weight and substance-not a magical construct. How long had he lain here before you spotted?” she mused. “Even if only moments, while you walked on from this spot to the corner, even if you stopped there for some time and pondered, then turned and started back West up this sidewalk, that's still at least two to three moments, possibly as much as fifteen, sixteen, wouldn't you say, Fenrich?” she turned to me. “I'd guess at between half a dozen and ten, but yes, I do agree. And I heard no sounds as of someone moving around behind me-it was as if either the infant had already been there, and I just didn't see, but he noticed me as I passed-but then why would I not have felt his regard earlier?-or someone deposited him there while my back was turned, and how do so this silently? And not mat the grass-you see he was not close to the cobblestone path leading up to the door of the house!” I reminded her. |
| read this and weep (more): http://www.sciencecorps.org/crudeoilhazards.htm |
| Finding The Abandoned Child Chapter Seven The natural disaster which had overtaken our city had been a terrifying and destructive event, yet thinking back, all of us-excepting the fisherfolk and shippers, whose homes and livelihoods had been destroyed-realized that the consequences could have been far, far worse. As of this morning, when I had found the baby, no loss of life had yet been reported-or not up to the point I left the Gymnasium following mother; only diminishment of the entire Harbour, the Wharf, and of course loss of the fish and marine life in the Harbour and in the nearby sea. So the fisherfolk, although still alive, were in serious danger now of having no livelihood whatsoever, as were the ship outfitters and chandlers. The shipowners who lived up on the hills on the NorthWest side could probably survive readily, unless they had gone heavily into debt. Ships, after all, could eventually be rebuilt. It was the lower class-the fisherfolk who survived on their daily catch-and the middle class-ship craftsman and outfitters-who would suffer right away. A sudden intuition reminded me of my mother: surely any moment she would be returning this way, heading back to the Gymnasium from our compound-if indeed that was where she had gone. And when she did, here I would be, standing at the end of Denguer Street where it encountered Swan, when she had ordered me to remain at the Shelter in the Gymnasium. Even if she didn't find me here-if the Constable-in-Training released me to return to the Shelter, I knew the news would travel so fast that it would reach the Gymnasium before I could, and Mamma would surely find out in in an instant of her arrival, if she by some miracle had not discovered the news on her way back. Either way I was for it; so there was not much need in leaving the scene of my discovery and scurrying back to the Shelter. I would be just as likely to be in trouble in any event-including walking to our complex home, or heading down toward the remains of Swan Street just above the lost Wharf. In any event, I was for it because of disobeying Mamma. Yes, the infant may have gone undiscovered had I not passed this way: perhaps even, he was placed there by someone AFTER I had appeared! So maybe I was, if not the actual cause, a corollary to his appearance, and my being here after disobeying Mamma may have meant his being found and saved! But Mamma would not see it that way-or, well, she might-but would still discipline me for disobeying, and I guess as rightly she should. At fifteen I still did not have the power, nor the responsibilities, of an adult. Although much more mature, I believed, than my cousins Nathay-lee and Jahro, due to the upbringing I had received from Mamma and Pastor Janns, both of whom were very unusual individuals, still I would not attain my majority for almost another six years-and so I was still my Mamma's to command. And disobeyed her I had. |
| Well, Gentle Readers, I, who have not cried over my personal life since probably July 1979, sat in front of my computer yesterday afternoon weeping bitter and painful tears over the burning alive of sea turtles, those indefatigable creatures who battle wind, waves, nature, and natural predators to climb beaches, lay their eggs, and “hope for the best.” Now they are reportedly being concealed from researchers and environmental workers; trapped within containment lines, and burnt alive during the Petroleum Megagiant's “Controlled Burns.” (And who came up with the not-brilliant idea of burning spilled oil anyway? Haven't we had enough destructive examples of that in Wartimes?) Just when I thought we had learned the worst, tons of new information (including the above) has come forth. The New Orleans judge who decided the Oil Giants should get to resume their profits from environmental destruction and allowed offshore drilling (hello? This is how we got to this point!) is hand-in-stock with Big Petroleum. The New York Times reports (I cited the link in June 22 #2) that the long-term effects are meta-disastrous for sea life. The so-called “most progressive” nation on this planet-the U.S.-has performed NO toxicity studies on the dispersant chemical-yet other countries have-AND BANNED IT. And people wonder why I alternate between speechlessness, and wild raving. May God truly help this Planet because humans, once given the stewardship of it, are surely determined to destroy it all. http://www.alternet.org/story/147293/four_possible_bp-style_extreme_energy_night... |
| http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-oil-spill-bird-count-201006... from my novel-in-progress, an Environmental Disaster Fantasy (study the above cited article, and you will weep) Finding The Abandoned Child: Chapter Six ““I can show you exactly the spot,” I had told the Constable about the location where I had spotted the naked, silent, infant a few minutes earlier. Once the Healer had arrived in his carriage and had pulled out the portable oxygen mask and gurney, and brought over his bag of implements, I agreed to relinquish the child for checking over his state of health. He looked fine to me (other than being unswaddled) but the fact that he was curiously silent and had been ever since, apparently, before I found him, did not necessarily bode well. Silence in an infant, I was sure, was not always a good thing, unless the child was asleep, as this one was not. The Healer took charge of the child, placing him securely on a gurney and fastened with restraints, while the woman who had called City Dispatch for me and her son-or nephew-watched over these proceedings silently and solemnly. Expressionless would have described the lady indeed. The lady Constable-in-Training and I walked back up the alley toward the street and then turned right to cross an unevenly-grassed expanse dividing the alley, and its first shed, from Denguer Street. I took her across Denguer and up on to the curb, where I stood on the grassy sward between street and sidewalk and pointed at the spot in the house's yard where I had first seen the silent unblinking infant. The Constable-in-Training-she now introduced herself to me at Pegolet Larrs-stepped carefully onto the edge of the sidewalk closer to where I waited, and leaned over to peer into the high grass of the lawn. I asked her why she didn't step out on to the sidewalk. “Well, you walked here, didn't you, Miss?” “Fenrich-Fenrich Wales. Yes, I came up this sidewalk to the end right there, at Swan. As far as I know, my Mother walked this way too, but she had been out of sight, oh, several blocks earlier, maybe five or six blocks. But I walked to the edge of Swan, thought about crossing, decided not to, then stepped back up on to the curb there”-I pointed to the edge where the Denguer Street sidewalk stopped at Swan Street's edge- “and then I paused for not more than a couple of moments, decided to return to the Gymnasium, and turned around and started back this way, down this sidewalk-so, yes.” “Well, you passed on the sidewalk-you saw no one then for several blocks?” “Not on this street-Denguer-across Swan I saw a few folks crossing between apartment houses, maybe two or three or half a dozen, just walking in and out and back and forth, some carrying boxes, others beverage cups, one had a guitar-” “Okay, but no one carried an infant?” “Oh no, these were folks of the age of Apothecary students, casually dressed.” “You would make a good detector, Miss Wales. Very keenly observant.” At this I blushed, while she continued: “Did you see anything in this lawn, notice anything odd, about this yard or this house, or any other, when you first passed as you walked toward Swan Street?” “Oh no-no I did not. If you are going to ask me if I glanced down at the lawn, no-because I had my mind on tracking my Mother, and I was looking straight ahead, actually sort of looking into the distance, trying to see if I could spot her. That is probably why I noticed the people walking on the far side of Swan, because I was always looking some distance ahead of me.” “So the infant might have lain here as you passed the first time, and you would not have noticed it, because you neither looked down nor heard it-or it might have been placed here while your back was turned and you faced across Swan, lost in thought?” “Either could have been.” |
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