FREE KINDLE FOR PC

FREE KINDLE FOR PC
So you can read my books

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

NEW YEAR'S EVE SUPERSTITIONS

 


What will be the last thing you do this New Year's Eve?


What will be the last meal for you in 2024?



STRANGE NEW YEAR'S EVE BELIEFS


1.) IF YOU DON'T KISS SOMEONE AT MIDNIGHT, YOU WILL BE UNLUCKY IN LOVE ALL YEAR


2.) EMPTY CUPBOARDS MEAN THEY WILL STAY EMPTY ALL YEAR

I wonder if that goes for empty heads as well -- which would explain the politics of this last year!


3.) OPEN ALL THE DOORS JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT

That is to let out the Old Year and let in the New Year will all its promise.

All the Democrats across America are not only flinging open all their doors tonight, but their windows, too!


4.) EAT 12 GRAPES AT MIDNIGHT

One for each month -- that is just in case you do not like cabbage and black-eyed peas!


5.) NO LOANS TONIGHT

A full wallet seems to give promise for a full bank account during the New Year!


6.) NO TEARS AT MIDNIGHT

Lest you have a year full of sadness.




HERE IS MY WISH 
FOR ALL OF YOU TO HAVE 
MORE SMILES THAN TEARS 
THIS NEW YEAR!


Monday, December 30, 2024

New Year's FIRST FOOT

 


The shades of years past watch us. Maybe even the shade of my cat, Midnight.

We, of the modern age, stumble and bumble our way,
sure of our sophistication and education.

But what if there are principles of which we are unaware that take no notice of our ignorance of them ...

only chastise us when we break them.




After all, gravity takes no breaks ...

it only gives them



Take "First Foot,"


a custom concerning the first visitor of the New Year to a home.

His function is to bring prosperity and good fortune for the ensuing 12 months to those he visits.


He comes just as soon as possible after midnight, bringing gifts which symbolize plentiful food, health, and wealth. Sometimes he carries an evergreen branch as a symbol of continuing life.

Strict rules govern the choice of First Foot:



Male always for he symbolizes the New Year.


No redheads need apply.



The luckiest representative is a dark-haired stranger, symbolizing a new year full of undiscovered mysteries.

An old form of First Foot has the visitor entering silently, 
greeted by none.



He goes straight to the hearth, laying the evergreen branch on the fire and a sprig of mistletoe on the mantle above.


Then, he turns and greets those living in the home, and festivities ensue. 


I wonder what thought first visited the homes of our minds last year?

Did it symbolize the atmosphere, the temper of our thoughts for the remaining 12 months?


What thought do you think should first visit your mind this New Year? 


What First Foot will be your physical first visitor?


Can you remember who first entered your home last January? 

Did he or she reflect the luck and temper of the following 12 months?

Just thought it would be fun to think on these questions.




Sunday, December 29, 2024

THE KEEP _ ANOTHER CHRISTMAS FABLE

 

Once Again, the approaching NEW YEAR
 gives us pause 
to wonder
WHAT IF?

Instead I will bring you
another Christmas Fable:




It was Christmas Day ... which meant exactly nothing to my Nazi captors.

I was alive only because I was a doctor and knew German.   

The Nazis surprised us in the forest.  We gave as good as we got.

Almost.

I was the lone American.  Five Nazis limped behind me.   

Ahead slowly walked their Carpathian guide.  

 In the mists ahead, I could barely make out an ancient structure, a Keep of some kind. 


 
 
The guide stopped.

The captain called out, “Why do you stop?”

His voice lingering haltingly over unfamiliar German vowels, the guide said, 

“We must turn back. This place is … evil.”

Swearing under his breath, the bloodied captain limped up to the guide and aimed his Luger at him.    

“That chapel will provide shelter from this damnable rain and a place to make a fire to warm our bones.”

The guide said,  “This is no place of worship.  It is a prison.  To enter is to die.”

The captain shrugged.  “No, peasant.  To deny the Reich is to die.”


He shot the guide.  I shivered.   

There for a moment in the moonlight, it seemed as if the guide’s face looked relieved.



The captain shoved me towards the Keep.   

Amerikaner, you will make a fire for us and tend our wounds.“

His smile flashed like the strike of a snake.  "Perhaps you may live out this night.“

His promise was as phony as his smile. 

“We need to bury that guide.  Wolves will be drawn to the body.“

He laughed, "Predators need to eat, too.“

All the branches outside were soaked.   

The two privates still able to use both arms broke the rune-etched structure that acted as a barrier to the rest of the huge Keep.

As soon as the strange wall was down, a wind moaned from the darkness.   

Fear was bright in the wide eyes of each Nazi. 

The captain snapped, "Fools!  Are you children to be afraid of the night?"


The night. 

It calls to the frightened child in all of us.   

It seems to welcome the horrors with which we once peopled the darkness.

There's power in the night. There's terror in the darkness.  

The caveman knew.   

There were deadly things in the dark he did not understand.  That caveman awakens when the sun sets.

As a physician, I knew all too well how much science did not know about the body, 

why things went wrong with it, and how much Man still had to learn.

I did what I could to staunch the flow of the soldiers’ wounds.  

My oath did not let me differentiate between ally and enemy.

The captain pointed his Luger at me as he put his back to the Keep’s cave wall and slid to the spot closet to the flickering flames.

“You will continue to feed the fire.  Should it die, I will awaken.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes.  “Then, you die.”


I nodded and started to pick up the remaining pieces of the shattered barrier.

The captain growled, “What are you doing?”

“Collecting all the pieces now so I won’t awaken you doing it later.”

He grunted, “You grovel well, Herr Doctor.”  He pronounced it däktÉ™r.

“I plan to live,” I said truthfully.

I reminded myself that a sneer was the weapon of the weak, but his Luger put the lie to that.   

He fell asleep with the sneer still twisting those thin lips.   

He slept the sleep of the exhausted.

The rain pelted the forest outside.  


 
With prickling scalp, I saw the rain stopped inches from the Keep’s entrance.   

It could just be a trick of the weather.

The wolves who hungrily eyed the guide’s body but refused to approach it 

(and the Keep's entrance) 

made me think otherwise.

I started to piece together the remains of the barrier on the rock floor.   

The two Nazis had been so weak they left huge chunks of it intact.  

 I made a passable mosaic of the barrier between me and the sleeping Nazis.

Maybe they were superstitious, but the two Nazis had not fed any of the wood carved with runes into the fire.

I survived medical school by having a memory for detail.   

I managed to fit all the wood runes in the order I remembered.

I no sooner finished than the wolves started whimpering behind me.  

 I turned on my knees to see the wolves slinking away, their ears down and their tails between their legs.

I turned back around and believed in Evil.


In the gloom, I spotted … something. 

My voice strangled in my throat.  Something was tottering from the darkness beyond.

A strange whistling sank and rose.  There was a low fire behind it.   

I could not see from what source the dim glow came. It seemed to emanate from no central focus.


But I saw a vague figure shambling toward us.

It was made of such blackness as I had not dreamed existed this side of the grave.   

The oily blackness had the musty feel of antiquity to it. 

It looked like a woman, but no human woman ever walked with that skulking gait, 

and no human woman ever had that face of horror, that leering grimace of lunacy.

A part of me wanted to scream at the sight of that face, at the glint of nails in the uplifted claw-like hand. 

Flabby lips turned up in hunger and ecstasy, it bent over the four enlisted men.   

Their wet screams were cut short as their writhing bodies blurred into mist …

 and were absorbed into the black Something.

The captain started awake, his eyes wild with terror.   
 He emptied the Luger into the thing that shambled for him.

It snared his wrist and kissed him as he gagged.

It shambled towards me but paused as it glared at my makeshift barrier.

I scrambled out of the Keep and into the freezing rain, taking my chances with the wolves.

The captain screamed after me as the Something dragged him back into the darkness.

“Don’t leave me!”

I called back, “Remember? Predators need to eat, too."


Saturday, December 28, 2024

ONE CHRISTMAS NIGHT

 


"I'm not running away.
I'm already gone." 
- The Charioteer 

MUSIC TO READ THIS FABLE BY


I am the Charioteer


A rather grandiose name considering my present occupation.


But here in the ironic dying of civilization's light in the 21st Century's dawn, 

there are precious few ways to to roam abroad on horse-drawn vehicles.


After my days as the Cid, I forswore riding for any king or country.  

My days at Camelot should have taught me better than to think any king worth the blood of his followers.


Once I drove Apollo's chariot across the skies, not that he was worth the deaths he caused in his vain wisdom. 


But I was young enough to sacrifice good sense for the thrill of flying across the heavens, 

my fiery steeds singing their joy at the celestial race in tones that thrummed my bones like tuning forks.


Yes, I contested in the Roman Colosseum races as well.  Not for the thrill of victory nor for the roar of the brutish crowds.

I did not know then for what I raced.


I do now.

I raced in a vain attempt to outrun my mistakes of the past. 

But you cannot outrun regret or the pain of memory.

Pain always catches up.


Perhaps that is why my pace is so much slower now.  

My valiant warhorse patiently pulls my light-festooned carriage, waiting for me to come to my senses and race the moon again.


My passengers chatter behind me, their words becoming more shallow and empty with every passing year. 

Soon their words will become so slight and without meaning that they will fly away on the chill winds before they can reach my ears.

One can only hope.

I no longer turn when a passenger boards my carriage.

I hear the rustle of the worthless paper money go into the slot of the metal box behind Sir's back.

Sir?

Once his name had frozen the blood of humans ... as had mine.  

He thinks himself a Foo Dog.

I let him.  

After all, do we not all deserve to write our own myths?


Few see his two other heads. They only see death if they should attack me.  

Few do attack.  And none twice.


Snow drifts like dreams' echoes around me and Sir.  I feel my carriage shift from the slight weight of another passenger.

No paper money.  The heavy thudding of gold coins.

Sir rumbles a greeting, something he has not done for centuries.

"Good to see you, too, Cerberus."

The Voice whispers icy tingles through my blood.  Tender, cold fingers feather the back of my neck.

I turn.


Turquoise eyes laugh into my very soul.  

A face, its beauty terrible and haunting beyond any singing of it, study me with wry amusement.

"Oh, Helios, how often I beckoned to you, but always you raced faster than my words."

"I move slower now, Gaia."

Her whole face glows in a smile.  Snow flurries swirl around us.  

"Perhaps our nights will no longer be lonely."

Nor were they ... ever again.

Perhaps on Christmas Night, miracles still happen.

Friday, December 27, 2024

What will you do if you win the 1.15 Billion in tonight's MEGA MILLIONS?

 The Odds are 1 in 302, 575, 350


But you still are going to enter tonight, aren't you?

What do you think Dirty Harry is telling you above?


Considering my precarious financial situation, I should sit this one out.

But just last August, someone in Lake Charles won $2 million in the lottery.


Did you know that there is a deadline for choosing between annuity or lump sum?

I'm closer to that dreaded Finish Line than most, so it is lump sum for me.


Yeah, I know.


If you win, remember the IRS takes out its cut TWICE!

Immediately and then the following April 15th.

And there are state income taxes!

Hey, who bought the ticket anyway: us or Uncle Sam?


Or, like now, if you win late in the year, you may defer claiming the prize until the following year.


And earn hundreds of thousands of dollars by investing the taxes due the following year in high yield bonds.


No matter what you do, stormy seas lie ahead for you as a winner.

Family and friends will turn sour on you.

Your identity will be discovered no matter how careful you are.

Attorneys and tax advisors will prove false.


Stay true to your moral compass,
and even if all around you prove false, you will find safe harbor.