Not my first choice, let me tell you.
If you have your shit together and house in order, whoever occupies the Oval Office will have minimal effect on your day-to-day. If you struggle to put food on the table, Trump will have minimal effect on your day-to-day.
We are all plunged into a stupefying alternate reality / parallel dimension / bizarro world / episode of The Twilight Zone.
Pray to the old gods and the new, and *don't touch that dial, America.
*<insert old fogey reference as desired>
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is not a play. It's a rehearsal script. Something hardbound but not a literary work like, say...oh I don't know...The Cherry Orchard. The rehearsal script is a cash grab, but it's also the foundation for (by what I've read on the InterWebz, anyway) a fantastical stage production. Plot holes be damned! Who cares if the world-building and rules of magic (ahem -- Time-Turners -- ahem) in the seven Harry Potter books are tossed in the ash can? Rowling's wizarding world in all its iterations is great fun. Truthfully, though? The Potter story arc could have been wrapped up in four books. House-Elf history and wand lore is just so much filler that distracts and detracts from Harry's journey. HP&TCC in written form is equally unnecessary, but I'm sure the theatrical performance is a special kind of magic all its own.
I know you didn't think much of her when we brought her home, but Lily's still looking for you. In the closet. She's in there right now because a big, bad thunderstorm rolled through here a few minutes ago. She hates them now, just like you did. Funny how she never minded the wind and ka-booms when you were here. In fact, she stayed close to you when you were shakin' and shiverin'. In the closet. Lily has turned into you. I feel bad she doesn't have a furry friend to help her through the scary times. (Oh, by the way...we changed Lily's kibble. You'd like it. Salmon & Sweet Potato!)
Anyway, you know I can't let the 12th of August pass without a few fond words of remembrance. You were my cell site buddy and all-around Big Meanie.
Your Ma & Pa miss you, too.
And in one of the many handmade *journals Darla Varney makes and sells at swap meets, church bazaars, and craft fairs, she wrote today's entry:
More in the moment ... less outside of time (crawling, sprawling.) What is withheld will never be missed. Every story has to start somewhere; begin somehow. I don't want to be teased/tricked by the past; tempted by 'what ifs...'
Show me the snapshot. Don't feed me weak recollections of events that never happened. Might have been. Says you. Belief is blind, and trust a many-sided die.
*This particular one made from pulped junk mail and crushed buttercups. Meandering thoughts written down in purple ink!
doors are made
doors are found
voices once heard
a four-letter word
nine months' worth
is a memory best kept
(cue the music)
Bran? Bran trippin'.
Mysticism. Magic. Time is a wheel and we've been here/done this before. The thread that tells of the Children of the Forest and the First Men is more interesting than the stories we've been told so far. Brandon's journey speaks to me, and it's my favorite riff throughout ASoIaF. The Old Gods are close. They have never left.
A longer-than-expected hiatus is nearing its way-past-freshness date. I am presently in the process of trading in a herd of bison for a Formula One car. Further details following...
But for now, Mrs. Woolf has words of wisdom on that ol' Show-Don't-Tell.
(Quote courtesy of The Free Dictionary)
So...why are memories inexact and easily influenced by outside factors?
I was there. I oughta know.
Same game--same players--results subject to the number of times one answers in the affirmative to any given question.
String-pullers and knuckle-biters worship at the altar of Fond Remembrance.
(...and Darla Varney sees a pattern emerge in all that spilled blood.)