I'm leaving the old intro here, but adding this- it appears the doves have taken over my blog for their fiction. Just as well, I was doing a piss poor job of updating. They're doing much better.

This blog is infrequently updated, full of incorrect spellings, misused words, and general bad grammar. It started when I was trying to use google+ (which I've since given up on) and discovered there was no character limit for posts. If you've known me a long time, a lot of these stories will be old hat. If you plan to know me for a long time, you'll no doubt hear many of them in person. But, folks seemed to enjoy them, so here they are.

Monday, August 31, 2015

the Hundred and Fifty Seventh Story

Once upon a time there was a troupe of fireflies so well synchronized that they could dance out perfect star maps.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

the hundred and fifty sixth story

Once upon a time there was a rainbow. Contrary to what you might thing, she was gloomy most of the time.

Saturday, August 29, 2015

the hundred and fifty fifth story

Once upon a time there was an acorn who learned that, if he acted like he was hollow, the squirrels thought he was hollow, and if the squirrels though he was hollow, they left him alone.

Friday, August 28, 2015

the hundred and fifty fourth story

Once upon a time there was a grain of sand. The big creatures thought of the sand as soft and smooth, but the sand knew she was made of broken glass, and the sand knew she was fierce.

Thursday, August 27, 2015

the hundred anf fifty third story

Once upon a time there was a sparrow who just could not settle down. Every time, just before finishing her nest, she would think "oh, but a few miles south!" of "it would be nicer by a lake" of "a pine would smell nicer" and she would start over. She did more work than other sparrows, and never did have a very nice home, but oh the places she saw!

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

the Hundred and fifty second story

Once upon a time there was a mountain who stretched herself as tall as she could trying to tough the sun. She never quite did, but the sun touched her, and that was enough.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

the Hundred and fifty First Story

 Once upon a time there was a gate. He was an accommodating sort and opened for anyone. It was a lot like not having a gate at all.

Monday, August 24, 2015

the hundred and fiftieth story

Is not quite non-fiction, but is still utterly true.
You stay up all night working, because it is too hot to have the fire going during the day. Even so, as you're forging, you end up shedding most of your safety gear because the possibility of burns isn't as bad as the certainty of heat stroke. When you finish, your clothes are soaked through and stuck to your skin, so you just take your phone out of your pocket and step under the shower fully clothed. As you peel soaking rags off your body, you realize that turning the water to anything other than dead cold was a mistake, and you're not sure whether the lightheadedness is heat or dehydration. You turn the temperature down and,knees shaking too much to stand, you sit in the dirty floor of your shower, cupping water from the tap and drinking it from your hands. You're still wearing shorts when you climb out.

The next day you pack up all this work, and you drive through the night. You arrive at your location around noon. Five hours later you've finished setting up your booth. You drive to a shitty motel, too tired to do anything else. You order a pizza and try to watch movies on an internet connection too slow to really stream anything. The next day, you wake up and absently dress nice- in a way you never dress at home. You brew tea in your room, but forget to bring it with you. You remember the little white gloves you wear at shows to hide all the marks on your hands. It's slow for the first hour, as it always is. You are prepared for this, but still it is hard to stand there, worrying about whether you'll make enough money to pay all your bills. You look around the booth, proud of everything in it, taking stock, taking note of where everything is so you'll be ready for the rush later. While you're doing this, a woman walks into the booth. You strike up a conversation with her. She tells you how lucky you are that you get to do what you love. Most of the time you love what you do. You really, really, truly do love it. But you do not love this moment, and even when you do love it, you know how much work it is. You smile, through gritted teeth, and not punching this woman in her bright white teeth is harder than not fainting in the shower was just a few days ago. You know she means well. You know that at least part of your marginal success can be attributed to luck, but you can feel the burned skin under your shirt and the raw skin under your fancy white gloves and you do not feel at all lucky. You keep your smile, as hard as that is. You sell her a moderately expensive piece whose name you will always remember. You forget the woman by the end of the day, and forget the conversation soon after- there isn't room in your head for both it and the ecstatic plans for new pieces.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

the hundred and forty ninth story

Once upon a time there was a hummingbird. When she was young she let her size speak for her, but later in life she learned that if she spoke like a hawk, the other birds treated her like a hawk.

This is the Doves' third for-profit story. They were given two words- hummingbird and empowerment.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

the hundred and forty eighth story

Once upon a time there was a lake. When she was angry her waters were grey and rough, but when she was happy... when she was happy she would allow you to see to her very depths.

Friday, August 21, 2015

the hundred and forty seventh story

Once upon a time there was a mouse who truly wished to fly. She stuck feathers to her ears, and, when that wasn't enough, she studied engineering and by the next year was making brand new designs of paper airplanes- stronger and more maneuverable than any made by man.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

the hundred and forty sixth story

Once upon a time there was a hamster who wished to be a hedgehog. He saw a kid with a mohawk, assumed the colour was what made the spikes stand up, and dyed himself as a rainbow.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

the hundred and forty fifth story

Once upon a time there was a mountain goat in love with the wind. Every day he would go about his business, but every night he climbed to the top of the highest crag and whispered to her

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Monday, August 17, 2015

The hundred and fourty third story

Once upon a time there was a bat afraid of heights. Flying wasn't a problem, somehow, but hanging upside down in the cave was awful. Eventually she found a stalactite that nearly touched the ground and held fast to its tip every night.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

the hundred and forty second story

Once upon a time there was a coffeepot who liked tea. He met the teapot from the earlier story, and while it turned out they could not switch jobs, it also turned out that misery really DOES love company, and they lived out the rest of their lives together.

Saturday, August 15, 2015

the hundred and forty first story

Once upon a time there was a little cottontail show thought that, if she ate less and exercised more, she might turn into a jackrabbit. She decided she did not want to be a jackrabbit.

Friday, August 14, 2015

The hundred and fortieth Story

Once upon a time there was an elephant who was raised by giraffes. In an attempt to fit in she learned ventriloquism and put a sock puppet on the end of her trunk. She would walk around holding the puppet as high as she could and she would pretend to talk through it. 

Thursday, August 13, 2015

The hundred and thirty ninth story

Once upon a time a squirrel and his best friend both grew tired of hiding. The squirrel had a fox mask made for himself, and a whole hawk suit tailored for his pal. After that, the comrades sauntered about freely all day, every day.

The Doves wrote a special story for me for my new piece. they even consented to type it on the computer so I could use it to fill that last pesky box in the display.

Thanks, Doves.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

the hundred and thirty eighth story

Once upon a time there was a chipmunk who wanted to get into burlesque dancing. Her friend the sparrow made her a cute top out of acorn caps, and a lizard she knew helped with the choreography. Finally it was time to perform. She chose the stagename of "Spicy Nutmeg" and was quite popular.

This was the second of the Doves' for-profit stories. The word they were given was "nutmeg"

Monday, August 10, 2015

the hundred and thirty seventh story

Once upon a time there was an earthworm who wanted to grow into a butterfly. He thought that, maybe, if he did the cocoon part it would work, so he wrapped himself all up in dandelion fluff. He stayed put for what felt like forever, but then he got hungry and chewed his way out. He wasn't a butterfly, but somehow life was totally different, even so.

This was the very first of the Doves for-profit stories. The word they were given was "rebirth"

Sunday, August 9, 2015

one hundred on thiry sixth story

At some point, years back, I discovered the Library of Congress' online photo archive. I lost at least a full week worth of productivity to looking at old WPA era farm photos, and photos of rail yard repair techniques, and, of course, all these women, working in war factories. In the case of the latter, it is fairly clear that the women were told what day the photographers would come in- their hair is perfectly coiffed, make-up tastefully applied, cute little patent leather shoes peep out from their overalls. They all pose prettily balanced on the wing of a plane, or leaning on a console, and every one smiles at the camera. And then, in the midst of all that, there's this woman- greasy, busy, looking at her machine, and maybe a little fed up with the photographer's interruption.
And because of her, my work caps are always bright yellow.

Thursday, August 6, 2015

the hundred and thirtyfifth story

(this is the same exit that, years ago, I pulled over to electronically sign all the paperwork to sell my Nashville house. This is what it means to live so much on the interstate system- it's not really about knowing which chain stores have free wifi. It's about associating major life events with certain random exits.)

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

the Hundred and thirty fourth story

Once upon a time there was a fairytale. She did not know whether she ought to have a moral or not. She did not know whether she ought to be funny or not. She did not know whether she ought to have a happy ending or not. She decided that "ought" was too hard, she would do whatever she wanted.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

the hundred and thirty third story

Once upon a time there was a giraffe. She could not reach her toes. She could reach the tops of trees. She could reach some parts of the sky, but not others.

Monday, August 3, 2015

The hundred and thirty second story

Once upon a time there was a kitten. She was not a particularly special kitten. She was a rather normal kitten, small and fluffy, with a thin voice. And yet, even so, she found a home.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

the Hundred and thirtyfirst story

Once upon a time there was a fox who wanted to be a squirrel. The fox tried looking small. He dyed his fur grey. He cut his nails. He learned to climb trees. Over time, he developed a taste for acorns, and joined the squirrels in their scolds.

Saturday, August 1, 2015

the Hundred and Thirtieth story

Once upon a time there was a cormorant. He swam very well, better than he could fly & even so he wanted more. He thought that he would be happy as a fish. He spent more and more time in the water, and less & less in the air, practicing to be a salmon. He never succeeded in the change, but he did get better.