ALMOST SUMMER

There are times when I get so tired of blogging that a temporary break is required. When I re-read the posts that I've written, I dislike every one of them. I get frustrated when I start boring myself. After all, I've often said I'm the most fascinating person I know.

My "fascinating" aspects have lately disintegrated into mundane crap.
My readership has dwindled. Comments on my blog are nearly non-existent.

I made two recent blog blunders:
Writing a pro-Trump post (which I'm sure infuriated 99 per cent of my readers)
and writing a quasi gay pride post (which probably caused a few of the church ladies to grab their smelling salts).

An aside here:
Some people might be puzzled or annoyed at my occasional "church lady" remarks. I started using that phrase long, long ago when I first started blogging.
I used to jokingly say that I'd better not put anything risque in my blog, or it will offend all the innocent church ladies.
I still think it's kinda cute.
And maybe kinda true.

Anyway, when I write in my blog, I'm mostly just talking to myself. That's why I bitch, complain, and ramble.
And occasionally blurt out my real feelings.

I plan to "blurt" my real feelings much more often. It's extremely invigorating.

When you live alone in the wilderness, like I do, blogging is an emotional outlet - a way of convincing myself I'm still alive. Finding creative ways to write about mundane things isn't always easy. Or interesting.

Change of subject

Tomorrow (Friday) is the first official day of summer.
Summer??
I'll believe it when the weather warms up. And when the incessant rain stops.

Rain, rain, continual, endless rain every day without letup. Severe storms last night which nearly put the fear of God in me. My cats retreated to safe places.
I got out the candles and oil lamps. 

I used to think the Missouri Ozarks was the rainiest place on earth. Hell, it can't compare with Tennessee.

This morning was foggy and autumnal (I liked it).
This afternoon - just before I started writing this - the clouds broke and the sun appeared. This rare event nearly took my breath away.

I looked for a rainbow but there was none.

Sunlight appeared this afternoon:

a rare occurrence

Bosco (this afternoon)

enjoying the open window in my bedroom

Kitzee (also known as Scratch)

enjoying the open window 

in the living room

(I never open the living room windows all the way, because the rain pours in)

DEAD OF NIGHT

I wish I could bring you here, after midnight, and show you how unfathomably black and foreboding the surrounding forest is.

I love it. The sightless hours between dusk and dawn have always been my respite and emotional salvation.

When I first moved here - for about the first two weeks - I was admittedly very apprehensive. I wasn't used to the wild sounds of the wilderness. I had unwholesome visions of being attacked by wild animals..... or being robbed and violated by a roving band of moonshine-crazed, inbred hillbillies.

I threw in the "violated" part for dramatic effect.

Now, however - after four and a half years - I have no fear at all. I'll (reluctantly) admit that, on numerous occasions, I have even slept with the door unlocked.

Recent events have inspired me to be more cautious and careful. I won't expound, but it's best not to encourage danger.....

As disturbing as it sounds, I have always courted danger. My youthful escapades in California - especially on the midnight streets of L.A. and Hollywood - would make life in the forest pale drastically in comparison.

Humanity is much more dangerous than nature. 

My thoughts are wandering down dark paths tonight. It's raining now, way after midnight, on an unusually quiet night. No owls, no coyotes or wild dogs. No nothing. I saw some lightning bugs earlier in the evening, but now even they are gone.

I had planned on driving to town on Friday (that's today) but thunderstorms are predicted by dawn - and all through the weekend. I'll try to go on Monday. 

I should be doing other things rather than writing in this useless blog.
I'd like to complete the two volumes of my memoirs while my mental faculties are still reasonably sound......

.......which is a matter of debate. 

SPOOKY NIGHT

If you saw the isolated place where I live you'd wonder why I chose to be here. If you knew how creepy it is at night, you'd give me big points for bravery.

The first few weeks were the most intimidating. I wasn't used to the penetrating darkness, or the unnerving forest sounds. Or the fact that any semblance of human assistance was far away.

I'm alone. With my cats. And my rampantly acute imagination. The long, inhospitable hours between dusk and dawn are filled with the unholy possibilities of marauding murders, restless ghosts, and inhuman abstractions in search of vulnerability.

As a child, my imagination was delicious. It is even more so now - with the sophisticated additions of adulthood.

So what am I getting at? Hell if I know. I was merely exercising my mediocre way with words.

Oh, yea. A spooky night. 

After existing nearly two years in this place (I moved here in November, 2014) I am completely used to it. The lonely, isolated nighttime hours never bother me. I occasionally venture outside at night. I leave the shades up on my windows. I have even been known to leave a door unlocked now and then.
Insanity prevails here - - not bravery.

But - despite my feigned fearlessness - there are times when raw reality hits me and I'm afraid. Only momentarily, but afraid nevertheless.  
Last night was spooky.

I was writing in bed, working on my nearly-completed children's book. It was a warm, clear, quiet, completely calm night. 

Just before midnight the lights began to flicker. Then they blinked off.....on.....off.....on. Off. Power failure.
Everything went black. And when I say black, I mean pitch black. Words can hardly express the profound depth of darkness in this remote place. I was completely unprepared. 

As if on cue (I am not exaggerating), a pack of coyotes started hooting and howling and wandered up the slope to my house. They surrounded the place and seemingly taunted me with their eerie inhuman yelps and jeers.

It was really unnerving. I wasn't dressed. Couldn't find my boots. Couldn't find a flashlight. As I groped and wandered around, bashing into things and doing a bad Helen Keller imitation, my imagination was in overdrive.

What could have caused a power failure tonight? There were no storms, no wind. No nothing. My mind suddenly conjured visions of In Cold Blood....and Helter Skelter. What if the wires were deliberately cut - and murderous maniacs were outside, intent on getting in?  

I finally found the flashlight and managed to put on some clothes. I lit two candles in the kitchen, put batteries in a transistor radio, and grabbed my cell phone.

The coyotes eventually left but I still heard weird noises near the back porch - which is nearly on the edge of the forest. 

Abandoning fear, I took my flashlight and gun (hell yes - I'm armed) and went outside. The darkness was beyond black - no moon, no nothing. The first thing I ran into was a big spider web (a repeat of what I did the other day). 
With flashlight, pistol, and remnants of the web I pushed through damp, waist-high weeds and circled the house. Nothing. All was quiet except for the usual owl hooting in a nearby tree.

Back in the house, my fears evaporated completely...but new apprehensions arose. I remembered that I had lots of food in the fridge and freezer - enough for two weeks. It would perish if the power didn't return.

I called the after-hours number for the local power company. No answer.
I said to hell with everything! and went to bed. 
Kept my window wide open and laid there  watching the bright stars. My cat Bosco climbed onto my chest and we both went to sleep.

I woke up around 8:00 this morning and the power was still off. I called the power company again and ....just as a recorded message put me on "hold" - - the power came back on!!

It was amazing and I rejoiced. 

I took a helluva long time to tell a story about absolutely nothing, but that's one of my talents....and charms. 

 

WEBS, GHOSTS, AND GOSSAMER WINGS

 
Every morning I wander outside to see the spider web at the edge of the forest. It's most clearly visible after the fog lifts and when a rare shaft of sunlight makes it glisten with dew. Yesterday I managed to take some photos before the rain came.

This morning, during a light rain, I happened to see this butterfly on a pink weed blossom. Butterflies and dragonflies are everywhere. It's a lazy time of year. Summer is slowly yawning to an end, the days are already getting shorter. The cloudy weather and perpetual rain have tempered the heat.

Late at night when I can't sleep, I enjoy scaring myself witless by turning out all the lights and watching  the most frightening YouTube videos I can find. Haunted houses, wandering ghosts, abandoned places, unsolved murders.

Imagine being in an extremely isolated area, at the edge of a forest, entirely alone at night.......my cats are asleep, coyotes howl in the distance, and then  thunder begins to rumble.....

I love it. I've always enjoyed pushing the limits. 

I had initially planned on doing a completely different post today. It was a long one entitled The Hollywood Pretty Boys and Me. Then I suddenly wondered if my critics are right. Do I write too much about myself? Are people tired of hearing about my sordid past? Am I stuck on myself?

To be annoyingly honest (which is one of my traits) I think I'm interesting and I enjoy resurrecting the ghosts of my past. My blog is definitely frivolous and self-indulgent. If you want valuable information or  redeeming life-altering experiences, you're in the wrong place.

I was going to mention my encounter with Rock Hudson. Is that self-indulgent? 
How many of you had an encounter with Rock Hudson?
I rest my case.

This rare moment of humility (?) won't last long. I'll be back to my old self soon.
I just can't live without me.


My other blog is intended as an antidote to counteract the poison on this one:

http://cabinetofcurioustreasures.blogspot.com

DARK INTERLUDE

 Moonrise
 

I have recently been doing Hollywood posts in honor of Oscar week. This is a rude interruption to update my status here in the mundane mountain wilderness.

The wicked wintery weather has abated, turning into endless torrents of mud-inducing rain. It slacked off enough on Monday for me to make the dreaded trek into town. If nothing else, I now have sufficient supplies. And cat food. And litter (for the cats, not me).

I was plagued with alarming health issues all last week, which were so bad at times that I actually left a letter in case I dropped dead. I very seldom mention health issues in my blog, for two reasons:
1. It's unbecoming to selfishly bitch
and
2. Nobody really gives a rat's ass

After plying myself with aspirin and trying to lower my insanely high stress level, I'm presently feeling better....or at least adequate. Yesterday I forced myself to do a lot of long-neglected housework. My Texas house used to be absolutely spotless. Here in my remote Tennessee shack, I've been annoyingly indifferent.

Weather forecast:
Rain will continue today (Wednesday) and turn into snow by mid-afternoon.
If I'm still alive, I plan to make more homemade soup.

It's not quite dawn as I'm writing this. Earlier tonight there was a power outage. Imagine being totally isolated, surrounded by forests, with no lights anywhere. Fortunately there was a full moon (or nearly full) which kept peeking out from behind clouds. It was very windy and actually intriguingly beautiful. I went outside to watch the ever-changing midnight clouds and the evasive moon.

I was in the process of making coffee and toast just when the lights went out. Had to finish my midnight snack by candlelight. 

I'm not complaining. I love the wilderness, the solitude, the inspiring forces of nature..... 

Now, just before dawn, the power is miraculously back on. My cats are sleeping. The rain has stopped for the moment. It is getting colder. I'll patiently await the snow....
and I'll post a few more Hollywood stories later this week (as if anyone cares....).

an excerpt from Love Letters to Ghosts

IV
 
Listen to the distant song
of the wandering wind.
You will almost hear it
whisper my name.
Things once forgotten
breathe in unison
with the soft touch of your memory.
Imagine a gentle light
sifting through parted clouds,
bathing the broken paths
of passing storms.

Songs of remembrance are like that.
They expunge the haze of faded hours,
heal the crush of broken days.
In unexpected moments
they ignite the sun's first splash of light
and dare to sing in unrehearsed gratitude.

It is there, in the dawn of yearning everafters
that the cathedral of my love will embrace you.

Jon V.