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The Gas-Lift Chronicles - Part 1

This is what a gas lift looks like.

About 2 months ago the one on my chair started to lose its get-up-and-go. Every so often I’d experience this sinking feeling and after a quick check of my emotional state I realized it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with my chair … so, I ignored it, until it became an almost daily experience. 336 more words

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Last of the Summer Harvest

It’s chilly here on Widder Island.

Samhain is over and the Dead have returned to the Otherworlds.

The wee hobgoblins and ghouls who knocked on our door for treats are recovering from their indulgences and are nowhere to be found on the wild and windy streets of our neighbourhood. 228 more words

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A Bee in the Washing Machine of Life

Today I’ve been reorganizing my bedroom. This is a direct result of having more storage in our shiny new shed. It is a prerequisite of such activities that sheets, blankets, and any other soft furnishings not nailed down, must be washed. 437 more words

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Did You Hear The One About The Two Lesbians Who Wanted To Build A Shed?

At the beginning of Summer, before the heat and the smoke and the ‘chitis, Mrs Widds and I decided we needed a little extra space for our treasures. 515 more words

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Summer is Done, and I am Done with Summer!

Oh my stars! It’s dusty in here!

Hi there … yeah I know, I haven’t been around for a while. Blame it on the Summer from Hades! 365 more words

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I Can See Clearly Now, The Smoke Has Gone

This is what we were living with for 11-ish days …

My phone camera didn’t do the colours justice. The sun was blood-orange red, and the sky a sickly yellow. 81 more words

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Fire

When the rain stopped, everything grew.

When the rain stayed away, everything dried out.

When the rain didn’t come back, the wildfires started.

I am blessed on my island in the middle of a lake in the middle of a rainforest, but I feel the heat in my bones. 49 more words

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