Food Bank feast

 

Free Use Image by Jamie Nast on Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/turkey-roasted-thanksgiving-feast-448992/

eighteen-pound turkey

courtesy of the food bank

leftovers for days

~cie~

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-22

Write a bird poem

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/11/writers-pantry-47-breathe-in-words.html

note time

If all you wanted was the poem, you're done. See ya! Because now it’s time for the Power Haibun portion of the post. Buckle up, Bitches, ‘cause it’s gonna get wordy!

Every third Sunday, there is a food bank at the church in the little town where I live. There are two households in my house. My son and I make up one household and our unrelated housemate makes up the other. As Thanksgiving is coming up, each household got a turkey.

A giant turkey.

An eighteen-pound turkey.

I will be slow-roasting one of the turkeys all day and overnight starting at about noon tomorrow. Then early Thursday morning, my son and I will make the approximately 125-mile drive to my mother’s house. We will have a Thanksgiving lunch, and then my son and I will head home with a butt-ton of leftover turkey.

The food bank is a wonderful resource. I’ve heard people tell bad stories about food bank volunteers. One of my neighbors in the mobile home park where I used to live said that when she went to the food bank, one of the volunteers said to her: “why do you need to come here when you drive a car like that?”

She had a new car because her mother had given it to her.

The food bank where I live does not ask for proof of income. The food is surplus donated by grocery stores. It would be thrown out if it wasn’t given to people.

Today is Tuesday.

I went to the psychological evaluation part of my disability determination process.

I’ve been accused of being a space cadet, but it’s pretty certain that I don’t have dementia.

I do have depression and anxiety. I’ve had those pretty much my entire life. However, the reason I applied for disability is more because of my physical malfunctions than my psychological aberrations.

I have a lawyer, so I hope that will work in my favor. Because I’ve spent almost everything and am now worried about paying next month’s bills.

That’s 369 words

What follows is the CYA and promotional material that appears on every post.

Thanks for reading.

Have a happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate such.

If you don’t, have a good day either way.

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http://www.goodstufffromgrover.com

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

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Ornery Haiku: Super Flower Moon

https://www.schoolhos.com/super-flower-moon-may-2020-super-flower-full-moon-on-may-7/

through parted curtains

gold in partly cloudy sky

super flower moon

~cie~

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2020/05/cape-diems-time-challenge-2-super-moon.html

https://pixabay.com/vectors/man-hat-bearded-cowboy-male-311670/

Ghost Town Grover Sez:

"Back in my minin' days, I loved ter see a big ole golden moon in the sky whilst lazin' 'round a campfire enjoyin' a swig of whiskey or a few with the fellers. But the thing I loved to see most was a big ole golden nugget down in the mine!"

https://pixabay.com/vectors/cactus-character-man-western-154386/

Cactus Clem Sez:

"One of my most favorite things in all the wide world is takin' a stroll on a spring night with the full moon shinin' down on the Lone Prairie. 'Specially if I got a big ole jug of White Lightnin' to swig on now and again."

The Inevitable Legalese and Other Blah-Blah

Content copyright 2020 by Cara Hartley

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NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 2 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 2: Grover Doesn't Run Wild

Image by skeeze from Pixabay

Grover doesn't run wild

It's a place most people mistake for dull

Sitting far from the highways and byways

Sprawled out lazy in the middle of the prairie

A relic from another time

Filled with broken souls driven out of elsewhere

Connected to nothing and nowhere

Grover whiles away the hours unnoticed

The trucks roll by on the road outside

Nothing moves quickly

Save for the wind

Which knocks over trash cans

And erodes buildings

Grover doesn't run wild

It just bides its time

Embracing its broken family

Without interfering in their lives

Another day begins and ends

In this nowhere land filled with nobody

Hidden in plain sight

On the lone prairie

~cie~

notes

I am behind already, and I don't apologize. I am extremely busy.

Here are the prompts. I incorporated all of them, in my way.

NaPoWriMo: Write a poem about a certain place

April PAD Challenge: Write a "space" poem

April PAD Challenge Countdown Catch-Up (Day 8): Write a persona poem

Carpe Diem New Beginnings: Candlelight

Image Source

shall I make a toast

by candlelight some evening

to the fairy friends

~cie~

I am sorry, but I didn't read the instructions. This is just a little story Senryu, not a Fusion-Ku. Please feel free to throw overripe produce at me. I am, as usual, an idiot.

Visit the Artist

Perhaps Grover and Clem's chums Nervous Ned and Darlin' Dolly could serenade the fairies.

Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation: Troiku Hineri: At Dawn

Image by Johannes Plenio from Pixabay

These round hay bales are a common sight where I live

I

at dawn

I wash my feet with dew

the longest day

at dawn

the sun comes through the window

too bright to look at

I wash my feet with dew

perhaps I am still dreaming

I walk to the yard

the longest day

the too-warm sun of summer

I retreat indoors

II
at dawn
the sun comes through the window
too bright to look at

at dawn
much of the world awakens
though some hide away

the sun comes through the window
too bright to remain asleep
burning fiery orb

too bright to look at
I attempt to ignore it
I begin my day

III
I wash my feet with dew
perhaps I am still dreaming
I walk to the yard

I wash my feet with dew
before the sun burns it off
on grass blades still damp

perhaps I am still dreaming
I would be afraid to walk
unshod on this ground

I walk to the yard
trying to plan the future
what will I grow here?

IV
the longest day
the too-warm sun of summer
I retreat indoors

the longest day
I have many things to do
always stay busy

the too-warm sun of summer
makes me hide inside the house
sun scorching the earth

I retreat indoors
maybe when the evening falls
venture out again

~cie~

Visit the Artist

Visit the Artist

Ghost town Grover and Cactus Clem have a poem they want to share too.

A cactus man like Cactus Clem

Thinks the heat just can't be beat

He don't mind when it gets toasty

He even walks around in bare feet

A ghost like Ghost Town Grover

Tends to prefer the shade

He likes to sit underneath the old tree

Just sippin' lemonade

Visit Good Stuff from Grover for more from Grover, Cactus Clem, and the Ornery Old Lady

Visit the Ornery Poetry Blog

notes

The original Haiku for the Troiku Army was written by © Yozakura (1640-1716).

at dawn

I wash my feet with dew

the longest day

Haikai Challenge #116 + Haiku My Heart: Cold Moon

the cold moon looks down

on a quiet little town

as the year runs out

~Cie~

Notes:

The Haiga and the Haikai Challenge logo were both created using stock images and the free Pixlr online photo editor. If you share the Haiga, please credit me. Please feel free to use the Haikai Challenge logo, no credit necessary.

Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #110: Bush Warbler

Bush Warbler

A spring warbler casts

A dropping on the rice cakes —

The veranda edge.

I feed rice cakes to the birds

The earth drinking up my tea.

~Cie~

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover Sez:

"I shore don't blame you, Ornery. I wouldn't wanna drink no tea that a bird pooped in neither."

Visit the Artist

Cactus Clem sez:

"Say, Ornery, you know that sun tea you was brewin' on the front porch? Well, I was kinda thirsty after my stroll on the Lone Prairie, and I done drank it all down. I don't think it had no bird poop in it, though, 'cause it had a cover on it and everything.

Visit Ghost Town Grover, Cactus Clem, and the Ornery Old Lady at the Grover Hotel

Read more Ornery Poetry

Carpe Diem #1783: Eggplant

Image Source

when the time has come

for planting a new garden

can I grow eggplant?

~Cie~

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover Sez:

"Why the heck do they call it an egg-plant? It's a plant, but it ain't an egg, and it don't grow eggs or lay eggs neither!"

Visit the Artist

Cactus Clem Sez:

"Ornery, maybe y'all oughta put out a nest so's yer eggplant will have a nice place to lay its eggs. Or do ya think maybe we oughta build it a coop like fer chickens?"

Visit Ghost Town Grover, Cactus Clem, and the Ornery Old Lady at the Grover Hotel

Read more of Ornery's poetry

Carpe Diem #1773: Tanka: Bury Me on the Lone Prairie

Image Copyright Aubrey Danielle

when my time is done

I want my last breaths to be

on the lone prairie

not in a hospital room

I leave with the whistling wind

~Cie~

Notes:

You happier chappies are probably saying "ugh, there goes that gloomy old Cie with another gloomy poem." But I don't think this poem is gloomy. I think it's real.

I worked in long-term care for most of the 25 years that I was in the medical field. I think that people who work in this setting tend to become very adamant that we do not want to end up dying in a medicalized setting.

My father died in a hospice center. It was a peaceful place with a spacious, comfortable room. He was in constant pain and losing his capacity to think and remember things. It was much better than being in a hospital or nursing home. But for myself, I don't want my end to be even that medicalized. I want to look out the window and see my Lone Prairie before I rise up and walk away on the wind that constantly blows in these parts.

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover Sez:

"Dagnabit, Ornery, ya morbid ole cuss! Ya done went and made Cactus Clem gloomy with all yer chatter about croakin'. Now, I know I'm a ghost, but I've been a ghost fer near to 110 years. We ghosts like to whoop it up on Halloween night, but I ain't gonna be doin' much whoopin' it up if I've gotta be tryin' to cheer Cactus Clem up. So, what the heck are you gonna do about it?"

Image by nancy sticke from Pixabay

Visit the Artist

Cactus Clem Sez:

"Aw, thanks Ornery! Them ghost puppies is jest the thing to cheer a feller!"

Happy Halloween from the Grover Hotel Gang

October Spooky Writing Challenge 2019 + Aunt Cie's Soapbox: A New Age in Publishing

I just discovered the October Spooky Writing Challenge and intend to use the prompts to move this month's Team Netherworld Creations WIP, Nyarlathotep's Necropolis, and Naughty Netherworld Press WIP, Castle Necros, along. 

In case I'm feeling like I don't have enough to do (heavy on the sarcasm), I may also use it to lighten things up and create a little Ghost Town Grover and Cactus Clem adventure.

One thing I won't be using the prompts for is writing poetry. Between the Carpe Diem Haiku prompts and OctPoWriMo, I have a surplus of poetry prompts. If dark 'n' snarky poetry really is your bag, Baby, you can see mine at the Poetry of the Netherworld blog.

For the past year, I have only published the Naughty Netherworld Press WIPs because erotica tends to be focused on substance rather than length. There is probably a mathematical smut-o-meter to explain the ratio of sexual encounters to page count.

The Carnal Invasion series started out as a one-off Hump Of The Month series featuring human encounters with a group of lusty aliens. Following the release of Climax Castle, it became a serial focused on recurring characters.  The current WIP, Castle Necros, is the sixteenth book in the series. The books are of varying lengths, ranging from short and spicy to long and lurid.

In the heyday of pulp horror and classic science fiction, fans of these genres snapped up novelettes, novellas, and collections of short stories by their favorite authors. By the 1980s, shorter books had fallen out of favor and readers tended to only be interested in full-length novels.

Once I started reviewing books full-time, I became aware that shorter books are making a comeback. Michael J. Allen is an author who makes excellent use of the novelette and novella format.

I could not be happier about the renaissance of novelettes, novellas, and volumes of short stories. The modern Internet age provides a multitude of avenues for authors to share their work with potential readers. With blogging, paid content platforms such as Patreon or Ko-Fi, and ebook publication services such as Kindle, authors no longer need be confined to the constraints of the traditional path of seeking agents and publishers and papering their walls with rejection letters or throwing good money after bad to have their work distributed by unscrupulous POD publishers.

I, personally, find the seeking an agent and publisher route odious and will not be treading that path. I realize that this means I have to be my own promoter. This comes with its own set of pitfalls. I'm shy and introverted by nature and am not good at networking. I'd rather be reading and writing. Still, when I think back to the dark ages in a time before blogs and e-books, a bit of networking is a small price to pay, and sometimes I even find some kindred spirits along the perilous path.

Whichever path to publication you decide to take, I wish you well.

~Cie~

This post is sponsored by Cie's Proofreading, Editing, and Review Services.

Warning: Shameless Self-Promotion Ahead.

I am here if you need my services as a beta reader, proofreader, editor, or reviewer. My prices and conditions are listed here.

I do not and never will charge a fee to individual authors for reviews. I only do paid reviews for author promotion services such as the Online Book Club.

My requirements to review a book for individual authors are as follows:
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2) The right to provide a link to your ebook on Amazon if it is available on Amazon. If a copy of your book is purchased through this link, I make a small commission from Amazon.

3) Please share a link to your review on this blog if you like it.

4) Please realize that while I really love giving positive reviews, I cannot guarantee a positive review. My less stellar reviews tend to distill down to "a good idea which needs improvement in execution."
It is rare for me to give a scathing review. On those occasions when I have done so, it is because the author has expressed hateful biases against members of a marginalized population, usually larger people. I am not keen for anyone being used as the butt of mean-spirited jokes and doing so will immediately earn a poor rating for a book.

So, there you have it! Let me know if I can help you.

Carpe Diem Acts of Devotion: Kumb Melah

Image Source

you may join us here

and wash away the troubles

which keep you bound

repeating the same mistakes

wanting a chance to be free

~Cie~

Notes:

Visit the Artist

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover Sez: 

Ain't nothin' like a good ole shindig at the ole swimmin' hole! 

Cactus Clem loves swim parties even though he don't swim too good. He just wades out an' drinks his fill!

But I didn't come here to talk about Cactus Clem an' his weird drinkin' habits.

I came here to tell y'all that the Ornery Old Lady and her son made their official move to the ole Grover Hotel today an' they bought a special pal with 'em. 

Click the link to c'mon by and hear all about it!

Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #101: Photoshopping Haiku: Cricket Silence and Thunder Strikes

Image copyright Geralt

cricket silence

between scraping sounds

autumn begins

my son says prairie thunder

sounds like the sky coming down

~Jane & Cie~

Notes:

Want to just read the poem?

Then hop off the bus, Gus.

Because now I'm gonna discuss much!

First, I went with a Tan Renga for this one. The Haiku stanza was written by Jane Reichhold (1937 - 2016) and the Ageku stanza was created by me. I liked the contrast between the quiet of the chirping crickets and the powerful sound of prairie thunder.

I have not heard the sound of prairie thunder yet. My son told me that it sounds like the sky is coming down.

This is my son. This picture was taken around his 28th birthday at the Denver Botanic Garden. 

He is the reason we are moving to the Grover Hotel, although, in fairness, I'm the one who found the listing.

And now for our moving horror story. There will be more bitching to come.

My son had the idea that we should move him and the cats to the new place a day before the scheduled move. That way I could be in the townhome to direct the movers and he would be at the new place when they arrived.

Good plan, except these clowns slagged us off.

I suppose I ought to tell the sorry tale from the start.

I filled out a form on one of those "find a contractor" sites describing the work we needed done and was contacted by All My Sons moving company. I'd seen their trucks around. I think they are only in the U.S. but they might be in Canada too. So people in North America, I warn you, do not arrange to have All My Sons do your move. It is one fiasco after another, and if I had only looked on Yelp beforehand, I would have kept looking. Most of their reviews are one star.

First, they arranged for an evaluator to meet with us. I even confirmed the appointment with her. 

She never showed up. I called the office. They apologized and said somehow I had been removed from her schedule. Okay, shit happens, it seemed minor, and she did show up to the rearranged appointment and was pleasant enough. 

I called the office to arrange a date. I was told we were on for the sixth.

My son remembered the evaluator had mentioned a deposit. I called to ask about the deposit and was told we didn't have a date down. 

I said "WHAT???"

The man apologized profusely, put us back down for the sixth, took my deposit via debit card.

I should have known to call these clowns BEFORE we had driven for three hours with meowing cats.

I called when we got to the place and was told that the "BIG BOSS" had taken us off the schedule and had tried to call me several times about this.

I received no calls or voice mails from anyone. I was livid.

My son said that he thought it would be fine to stay there and get the cats settled in. But just a sleeping bag turned out to be too little padding. Fortunately, he found some comforters in one of the storage cases. 

When I got back to Grover in the morning I saw that some of the fields had become temporary lakes. Colorado has notoriously bad soil (bentonite.) The water doesn't absorb well, it just sits on the top.

My son described the thunderstorm. He said he'd never experienced anything like it. He described it as sounding like the sky was coming down on top of the house. He said that normally he would have loved it, but trying to sleep on that floor left him in such pain that he actually felt nauseous.

This room is on the second floor of the building. It will be really grand one day. For the moment, it looks like this. The floor is patently awful to sleep on. My son used to go camping when he was in Boy Scouts. He says that he imagines the only place he will ever camp in the future is in a cabin with a bed and running water, which happens to be my kind of camping.

The cats were very unhappy too. We ended up bringing them back to the townhouse. One of them is asleep in his carrier right now. He loves the carrier as a cat bed, not so much as a carrier.

This is Bart. This photo does not show his giant feet.

The move is rescheduled for this coming Thursday with a different company, who have already provided an email confirmation and will confirm again 48 hours and 24 hours before the move. They are called Homegrown Moving and are only in Colorado. So far, so good.

I really don't feel all that great at the moment. Stress--it's a killer!

Carpe Diem Acts of Devotion: St. Cuthbert's Way

Image source

approaching the end

of my time in this same place

I feel a bit lost

what awaits me at the end?

am I doomed to fail again?

~Cie~

Notes:

Wanna just enjoy the poem without more claptrap from me? 

Cool! Your bus stops here.

For those of you who want to read into it a bit deeper, let's keep on truckin!

Here is a poem created by my pal, Ghost Town Grover.

Visit the Artist

When folks think of Colorado

They think of Aspen and Vail and Boulder

They ain't thinking about the prairie

Or places like Ault and Grover

Well, you know that where you find Grover, Cactus Clem must be nearby, and he has a few lines to share too.

Visit the Artist

Y'all, when folks think about Colorado

They think of marijuana and not clover

It's true that clover won't get you high

But I love the Lone Prairie, and you oughta come over!

Thank you, Grover and Clem. That was, as the barista on Open Mic Night at the Buttniks Coffee House said, organic.

Honestly, though, the picture above reminded me of a scene like this one from the Colorado Lifestyle blog.

Colorado's Soapstone Prairie

For me, the drive along the highway through the seemingly endless prairie is far from boring.

Soon I'll be living there.

The big stuff gets moved Friday.