Among the Trees

In the last week, my workplace has endured waves of the stomach flue and of head colds. We're a couple of pounds lighter and feeling like partial investors in products like Imodium, Airborn, and Emergen-C, all for which we have been quite grateful. We are good sharers at my work place - not only did we share our bouts of illnesses, we shared many good home remedies and many laughs over our communal bugs. Ugh.

A bit of a sad, short one, so if you're in a lousy mood and looking for something to lift your spirits, this may not be it. If you are looking for something uplifting, read last week's short, The Road, or skip down to the YouTube link below for two minutes of cuteness.

I wrote this poem after going on a long walk through Balboa Park, a local/beautiful part of San Diego. I saw a tree that was twisted as if it was trying to bring something closer. Growing around, over, and among the tree was a collection of wild, dark leafed ivy. It was inspiring, albeit dark. But, it is October, the month of dark, spooky tales, so here goes!

Among the Trees

Once there was a woman whose heart had been destroyed from losing her only one. It was not love that was stolen from them, but life.

She ran to the forest and found safety in the raised root arms of a tree. She wept and wept and wept. Her tears flowed in such a rush that the ivy in which she nestled among came to life. 

Earth deeply pitied this sapling mangling for her fears.

The arms of the ivy stretched and grew around her, trying to pull her into a tender embrace. But the ivy had no knowledge of the frailties of man and so the ivy squeezed until the poor broken soul could no longer breathe. 

The tears and her fears were ebbed. The poor broken soul now lie dead. Her spirit was free, yet doomed to wander as a haunting memory.

And now a video of ridiculous cuteness to make you laugh and smile again:

http://youtu.be/MxwH9RbQzJ0

Until next week, dear readers!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon 

The Road

A really good friend of mine recently lost a loved one. She was going through a particularly difficult time, so I lent her my ear and wrote her a letter. With her permission, I am going to share that letter with you in case anyone else out there is going through the same, I sure hope this helps you too.

The Road

Losing a loved one is the same as losing a good part of your soul. It doesn't matter who they are in your life or how they leave, the hole is the same. Time, they say, heals all wounds, but there are some that reach too deep. You will not be the same as you were before them. Do not expect that and do not expect things to go back to the way they were. The person who you loved made up a part of you and though they are gone, though you feel a hair better than the dead, they live on through you.

Their laugh, their love, their influence remains. No one can take that from you. If they were your strength, let them still be your strength. If they were your happy thought, let memories of them fill you with that bright, glow of happiness. But let these emotions, these powers start in different ways. You know how strong you felt when they were with you. Recall that feeling that the world was yours when you looked in their eyes. The world is still yours.

The sun still rises.

Breathe.

Take slow, deep breaths.

The road ahead is long and there are many rough points ahead, but you will endure. You will persevere. You will get through.

Who knows what awaits at the end of the road, but that end is an awful long way from where you are now. Enjoy the ride and don't forget to look back and realize all that you have overcome.

Stay strong, my dear, readers. I assure you, it is going to get better.

Your humble author,
S. Faxon

Grandma Faxon

I have a profound and distinct memory of my grandma jumping out from behind the front door wearing a gruesome witch's mask. One would think that as a five year old that event would have absolutely scared me for life and that the mention of witches or grandmas would leave me trembling. But, that is not the case. I remember laughing with my grandma once she removed the mask. Of course I knew it was my best pal beneath that creepy mask, but that mask meant something great was coming - Halloween.

Halloween and my grandma are synonymous in my mind. Yes, at first glance that may seem extremely strange, so allow me to explain.

The house that I grew up in was perfect for Halloween. A long thin walkway spanned a two level front yard. The white pained walk led to twelve, red brick stairs. The lower terrace had long, thick shrubs that ran parallel with the street. The second terrace had a long, white plaster, red brick topped wall that ran the length of the property in the front. One thin, sickly looking tree stood tall and alone on the left upper grassed terrace. On the right side there was a single, lush tree that covered half of the small front patio. It partially concealed the three paneled-windowed nook that my grandma called her room. On the far side of the front yard there were three, gigantic shrubs that reached to the second story of the house. Back on the porch there was a black mail box, a door bell from the thirties, and a hanging, wooden two-seater swing. If you're a House Haunter like me, you're probably drooling with the ideas of the countless possibilities. And let me tell ya, we took great advantage of the beautiful layout of that house for Halloween (and Christmas, for those of you who are wondering, but we'll get there).

For over FIFTY years my grandma, her creativity and that house won the unnoficial contest of Scariest House in the neighborhood. She loved Halloween and she loved hosting parties, traditions that she passed on to me. I wish we had the foresight to take photos of the house when it was dolled up for Halloween. I'll never forget one time when the front of the house made a little boy cry on the street because he absolutely did NOT want to approach our house. It was great.

Our approach was simple; surprise and imagination. We never did gore and we didn't go for the slasher nonsense. We had hanging ghosts that lit up, shook, and screamed, triggered by unsuspecting victims shouting, "Trick or Treat." We concealed the front porch with black plastic, making people shake at the knees for fear of what lie behind the curtains. For it is the unknown that scares folks the most. I recall we once had a skeleton hanging from our sad little pathetic tree that we wound in cobwebs. Side note, here's a pet peeve of mine - when people glob the fake spider web on bushes and on their houses. It looks like snow, not like the webs of spiders. Take the time to spread it out folks, make it look real. Now, if you're going for the "Cutsie" Halloween, that's fine. But if you're trying to make small children cry and adults shudder in fear, spread the web.

I've painted a rather creepy picture of my Halloweens at grandma's, but they weren't only about tricks. There were also treats. Loads of treats. My grandma was the best hostess, complete with pearls. (Another tradition she passed to me - wearing some now as it happens).

Grandma used to handmake popcorn balls. She would spread butter over her hands so that she could handle the hot popcorn without burning herself. She would make popcorn balls to hand out to the brave ones who made it through the tricks as they had earned their treats. There was a traditional drink we made for all of the parties - it was simple; green sherbet and seven up in a deep bowl. We'd put the bowl in a cauldron and have dry ice below, so it looked like something wicked was brewing. It made for a tasty potion.

The parties that my grandma held were legendary. I remember one where we had the outside of the house, the entire inside AND backyard decked out in Halloween. We turned the upstairs into a "haunted room" and it was fantastic. There must have been over 50 people there, all in costume. There were games, food, music, and laughter. It was a wonderful party. I was probably six, but I remember it like yesterday. Grandma's house was and remains to be in my heart a source of sunshine and hope even on days when the skies are grey. I return to her home often in memory and in dream. This time of year I feel especially close to my grandma and that home. 

So that, dear readers is why I love Halloween. Even though my grandma has been gone for just under ten years now, I feel that if I can keep her tradition of Halloween alive, then she will always be here with me. I hear her laughter. I feel her kiss on my cheek. I recall the smell of her jewelry box. It's those little details of herr that I miss the most, but those details, and my dear sweet Grandma live on. She lives through me and through Halloween.

Looks like I found a photo of my grandma on Halloween:

Thank you, my dear readers, for sticking with me week after week. You have no idea how healing these blogs are for me as I hope they are for you. Thank you for tuning in and I will write you all again next week.

Your humble author, 

S. Faxon

The House of Red and Black Conclusion

Welcome to the exciting conclusion of the House of Red and Black. While unfortunately we did not quite reach our goal of $100, enough of you responded to let me know that you're out there and I cannot thank you enough! So my dear readers, are you ready? If this is your first time here, you may want to take two steps back to the beginning of this tale: The House of Red and Black. For the rest of you, enjoy!

The House of Red and Black Conclusion

The mechanism that made the world turn was a machine of uncomplicated means, but it required weekly winding. The Key to the Dawn allowed the operator to wind the machine and was necessary to keep hooligan youth from disrupting the ways of the world below. The people on terra firma did not adjust well to change.

The people on Earth knew that every single day, night's darkness would end and the sun would rise precisely at 7:15am. This is how life on Earth had begun since before the memory of time. If the Mechanism of the Dawn were to go without being wound, the turning of the Earth would begin to slow and as such the night would become longer and longer. Gradually, all life on Earth would change until enveloped in a cold state of ever-night.

Lady Farcey knew that with all of the scandal following the realization of her fall from grace that the Kingdom of the Clouds had forgotten the previous fiasco - that Covetina had been given that precious task of winding the mechanism weekly. People were far too busy assuming the reason why Lady Farcey fell; they thought it was because she had crept into the house of Lord Night with the intent of becoming his bride. None but Lady Farcey knew that Covetina no longer possessed the Key to the Dawn and that foul creature was so busy reveling in her greatest wicked achievement that she failed to remember the task that had been given to her.

Revenge would be only too easy.

As Lady Farcey walked about the clouds with the eyes of former friends adverting from her, every step made her plan more and more clear. It tickled her to think that it would be so simple and yet so powerful.

'This will work,' she deduced as she sat alone watching the rose and golden hues of sunset. 'And it will be something that none in this kingdom will ever forget.'

~*~*~

In her dress of black, Lady Farcey was able to slip through the shadow laden paths in the clouds, looking, searching for one citizen of their kingdom. There was but one who could help her cause.

It was almost to that hour when the stars took their mid-shift nap when at last she found him.

Lord Night was busy conducting a lovely, glittery concert of shooting stars when Lady Farcey drew beside him.

A small smile came across his face as from the side of his perception he saw the woman in black. She did not interrupt him and she took great pleasure in watching this master work. In all of her years, she never failed to be amazed by the subtle beauties of the universe.

Lord Night eventually pushed away the dancing stars to another sector of the galaxy so not to be rude to his unexpected company. "My dear Lady Farcey," he kindly, softly greeted. Though he spent most of his time alone, he was always the most amiable company. "How may I be of service to you?"

The fact that she now wore black clearly did not disturb or bother Lord Night, which was precisely what Lady Farcey had been anticipating. This man was far too pure a soul to give a damn about the boundaries between their classes.

Quietly, Lady Farcey began to explain, "I know that you are aware of my fall. I know that you are also a keen and clever man; you know that the hours of your work are beginning to elongate."

Lord Night smiled again. He chuckled and said, "I had begun to notice, yes." He rested his hands over his hips, striking a 'what next' stance. "Allow me to guess; Covetina is failing at the task given to her. A task, may I assume, that she tried to give to you? For why else would you have been coming into my home, but to give me the key?"

Lady Farcey was filled with hope. If he had already pieced together all of this, asking a favor would seem like nothing at all. "Yes," she answered at length. "Yes, she thought that you would take this willingly." She pulled out from her black robes the Key to the Dawn. "You are a master of your craft. Covetina pursued me into bringing this to you as you would surely never fail to see through the task of waking the mortal world below. And though I know that this is true, I have a monumental favor to ask of you."

The way that the stars he arranged above shone upon the white glowing face of Lady Farcey made any task seem as small as a breath. "Anything," he answered, enchanted by how lovely she looked in black.

"Help us," she whispered, enclosing her fingers around the key. "Help us to show her catastrophic faults to the universe by letting the dawn go. Let the night close in below."

The prospect was fascinating. Terrifying, yet intriguing. The ramifications of not winding the mechanism could be disastrous. Not reporting that the night was growing longer and longer placed his position in the kingdom in jeopardy. However, helping this beautiful soul before him to avenge those wronged by the fool hearty king appeared to be the most noble of deeds.

Sweeping his red cloak back, inviting Lady Farcey to take his arm, Lord Night said, "Come, Lady Facey, have I ever shown you the lion that I have drawn with the stars?"

~*~*~

At first no one noticed that on the lands below that the night was growing longer. The weather was ever-fine. The breezes remained warm and comforting. People continued to bask in the perfect glory of the sun that they had always known.

That is until in the night one cool breeze blew. It was so soft and so subtle that no one took notice. The next night, the same coolness doubled. The next it tripled. People thought it strange, but nothing to fret. Life went on.

However, one morning, the fields, the trees, the eaves were laden with something never before seen. All the villagers in all the lands came out from their homes to stare at the foreign substance that invaded their perfect lives. It was white, cold to the touch, and it clung to every surface; frost. 'Frost!' they deduced in a hurly burly with bitterness and fear. How could their perfect world be changing? What had they done to deserve this wicked cold?

The queer happenings did not stop here. The very leaves in the trees began to change colors. The beautiful rich greens faded to shades of earth never before seen. Browns, golds, reds. Beautiful, yes, but foreign, unnatural!

The fall of the perfect lives of the people on Earth soon further devolved. Food would no longer grow. People began to drop from starvation and cold. They had no idea how to prepare or how to face this emerging foe.

The citizens in the Kingdom of the Clouds were growing scared and confused. In memory, Earth had never grown so lost in grey and white. In enormous droves people began to go to their king. With Lady Farcey tucked away in shame, the king was the only one to whom they could turn for aid. However, for weeks the king turned a blind eye to the woes and whims of his people, hoping, praying that this would all go away. His secluded world with Covetina was filled with nothing but perfection, so his subjects HAD to be exaggerating.

Weeks turned to months before finally the constant complaining drew the king out from his high walled bastion.

"LOOK!" Regulars and members of both Red and Black houses demanded of their king.

The king, still thinking his subjects to be nothing but dramatists, slowly swanked his way to the window to the world. His subjects gathered around the eye to Earth and pointed anxiously to the lands. The king bent over to peer below, expecting to see nothing but life and prosperity below. However, what he saw was a cascading landscape of white in great want of life.

"How can this be?" the king cried. "Why is the world covered in ice?"

It was in this moment that Covetina realized to her horror her error. But she was no fool. She kept her lips sealed. She slowly began to creep away from her king.

The people were as flabbergasted as the king. A whirl of rumors and guesses surfaced in a loud mess of voices until a body in the crowd realized, "The dawn! The mechanism of the Dawn!"

"It must be broken!" another shouted in response.

"It must be fixed!" replied the king. He was resolute to see this procedure through. "To the Mechanism of the Dawn!"

The masses began to rush away, but for one woman in black.

"Wait," her sage voice called out to the crowd.

Once all heads were facing her, Lady Farcey began to speak. "The fault lies not with the machine."

The king pushed his way forward to the front of the crowd. He wanted to scream and shout at her to step down, but his instincts were stopped short. A small object had taken his attention.

Lady Farcey held up the Key to the Dawn for all eyes to see.

People began to whisper and wonder how it was possible for Lady Farcey to have the key.

"Wasn't Covetina given that task?" several began to ask.

"Did she lose the key?" 

"Why does Lady Farcey have that?"

Lady Farcey tried to find Covetina within the crowds, but she knew that the coward had likely stolen away. This prospect did not bring her any worry. The costs of that woman's actions had come back to haunt her at last.

"Explain yourself, Farcey!" the king demanded.

Keeping her ever calm, Lady Farcey nodded her head and began; "On the eve of my fall , Covetina approached me with this key. She asked that I pass on the task to Lord Night. It was for this reason that I was caught within his home - I was merely performing the task given to me by my future queen. You see, in her folly-driven efforts to have me fall from grace, Covetina forgot one thing; that the Mechanism of the Dawn had to be turned so that life would not become a frozen wasteland on Earth. As you can see," she motioned to the window to the world, "She has failed at her task."

"YOU, Farcey," the king screamed, "You have failed at the task. Why did you not surrender the key to me?"

A small smile swept on her face. "I tried on the day when I fell from grace. After that, I obeyed; for you see, I wear black, which means that I am in the house forbidden to speak to the king." Lady Farcey threw the Key of the Dawn to the feet of the king. "Your mistress has brought the fall of Earth, not I. Your mistress has stricken ice and suffering into the hearts of the people below and for what? To slake the jealous rages of her heart. She could not stand to see any other other woman be respected by you, our king. And what has this win brought t' her but the death and despair of our people below?"

The king stared at the key laying at his feet.

The people in the crowd watched him and Lady Farcey in disbelief. They could not believe that so much suffering had come from one soul's foolishness.

To everyone's shock, the king bent his knees and reached for the key. It felt like the weight of the world in his hands. When he stood, he quietly asked, "Why did you let this go on for so long?"

Lady Farcey inhaled deeply. This was the most difficult choice she ever had made, but there had been no other way. "To save you, my king, and our world." The people were beginning to understand, far faster than their king. "The constricting grasp that woman held around you left you blind to her wickedness. Your friends and your people have been coming to you for months to tell you of the changes below, this started in October, but it is only now in February that you notice. The world below will be restored to its original glory, but it will take time. It will be weeks before the Mechanism is able to be wound back to its proper speed without damaging Earth."

"Very good," the king said, starting to stand up proudly once more. "And then we'll ensure that this never happens again."

"Precisely," Lady Farcey agreed, but she knew that her means were quite different from the king's. "I propose that in order to ensure that you never lose sight again of what is right and just, that each and every year from now until the end of time, the world below repeats this cycle. I propose we make it so that the people below may spring out from this era of darkness to enjoy their summer's sun, but that they endure a fall again so to ever remind us of the win for her...best yet, let us call this period of suffering 'winter.' Let us never forget, let us never be blinded by glory for hollow victories."

The king had never before felt so ashamed. He knew that this was all of his fault. He peered around at all of the faces around him. Their kingdom had never before felt so cut and dry. It didn't matter which way he looked - there were only three colors and they had never before appeared so plain. Perhaps it was the void of color below that inspired his next decision, but in retrospect he would always accredit the wise Lady Farcey for this choice. The king sighed heavily. There was but one thing to do. "My dear Lady Farcey. I would not hold an ill will against you if you never forgave me for my actions against you and this kingdom. But please, I pray that this begins to make amends to you and to you, my people, for my foolishness." The king swept his arms up and in one brilliant all encompassing flash, all of the colors that had been stolen from Earth in winter filled the dresses, trappings, and clothing of the people. The colors of red, black, and white that had long defined the classes in the kingdom were nothing more but subtle hues in the intermixed, colorful dressings of the people.

Lady Farcey's eyes filled with tears. She never had anticipated that the king's newly found humility would drive him to at last erase the only thing in this kingdom that was a true source of shame.

The king looked out all around. The looks of sheer happiness on the faces of his people made him feel proud once more to be their king. Once the initial waves of joy were passed, the king raised his hands and said, "Let it be known that shame and pride will no longer be measured by colors or house or class. Let us never covet power, attention or greed. Indeed, let us follow the example of Lady Farcey who risked everything to remind us all of what is right."

Dressed in hues of blues and white, Lady Farcey had never felt happier. She knew that there was one citizen who, if not literally, would always wear black in the eyes of their Kingdom. Covetina may have escaped persecution today, but she would never be allowed to forget what her wickedness caused. Lady Farcey knew that her king would never again fall into the trap of desire or folly. Her own fall was at an end. There was nothing left to do but to rise.

End

I hope you enjoyed your stay in the Kingdom of the Clouds and I will see you next week!

Your humble author,
S. Faxon

The First of October

Good morning, everyone!

Happy first day of October. A thousand beautiful memories of fall have flooded my thoughts. I revisited the time I went Apple picking on an extremely cold day in New York state with a bus load of my college friends. There was the time when I went to Salem, Mass with two friends to see the seaside city and to try to find remnants of my ancestors. And then there are the thousands of memories around Halloween, which I'll get to soon enough, my dear readers. For those of you who have been with me a while, you know what's coming - a Halloween short. And do you know what? It's already written and I can assure you, it'll get your blood pumping and your heart racing.

But now to business. We've already raised $25 in small, but powerful increments! Thank you very much to my supporters. If you'd like to help this author know that you all are reading and appreciating my works, check out how YOU can contribute:

By donating the following amounts directly to my PayPal page you'll receive:

$1 -$19 will receive thank you emails from me.

$20-40 will receive hand written thank you notes and have their first names/Twitter feeds mentioned as demonstrations of my gratitude on Twitter.

$41-75 will receive all the above and a surprise gift.

$76-100 will receive all of the above, including the surprise gift, AND a never before read Sonnet written by yours truly.

If you make a gift please leave your name and email on Paypal so that I may contact you directly. TRULY I would not be writing without you, dear readers, so please help me to know that you are out there by donating to: https://www.paypal.me/SFaxon

Even if you don't have the money, let me know you are here by leaving a comment or by sharing my blog with your friends, family, Twitter, or Facebook. It all means something wonderful!

Have a great first day of October and I'll be writing to you again soon!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon