The Sea Witch's Revenge

Once upon a time a sea witch swam along the coast searching for a home until one day she spotted just the right place. A beautiful little cove quiet and serene. Just the perfect spot for a sea witch's home, she thought.

She made a home in the little bay, and dressed it beautifully with shells and corals. The witch planted seaweeds all around her home to keep her place safe from storms and to give the fish of the sea a safe place to raise their young.  It was a very happy place to be and the witch lived there many years without being disturbed.

But one day, as her hair flowed in the waters causing waves to form and glide to the beach in perfect curls, some survey men appeared on the bluffs overlooking the bay. Not long after that great homes began to appear on the bluff. The sea witch was wary of humans and all the trouble they brought with them and became concerned.

People began to come to the beach to surf in her curls. At first she worried what might happen, that they might throw trash  or rip out her garden of seaweeds. But they only seemed to delight in riding the waves made by her hair.

So, on a beautiful summer day as humans laid on the beach and surfed the waves, she transformed into a mermaid and rode the waves with the humans to see why they like to surf so much. The people delighted in surfing with the mermaid, for they thought she was just another surfer out to enjoy the day, her finned tail looking more like a surfboard. And the witch thought humans might be okay after all. But she was wrong, not all humans are okay.

The homes on the bluff brought families of the rich and powerful and they began to put up fences to keep anyone that didn't live there away. But the people missed surfing the perfect waves and tried to get to the beach below the cliffs. Then the homeowners sent guards to push them back and the children of the rich vandalized their cars to keep others away. Now only the homeowners on the bluff were allowed to lay on the beach and surf the perfect waves that the hair of the sea witch made.

One summer day the sea witch transformed herself once again and rode the waves with the homeowners children. But instead of welcoming the sea witch, they yelled at her and called her names. The homeowner's sons started to pelt her with stones and spit on her until she swam under the waves and went back to her home. There, in the safety of her house under the water, the sea witch brooded and worried about these selfish people. "Who do they think they are?" she asked herself.

She called on her friends the sharks to help her and they swam in circles around the surfers to scare them away but the boys only went home to tell their parents that sharks were now bothering them. The homeowners then called on sharpshooters and harpooners to kill the sharks and many sharks died until the sea witch made a plan.

"Who do they think they are?" She asked herself again, "They throw stones and spit at me and kill my friends the sharks. I will get revenge on these horrible humans."

One summer day with the sun and sea beckoning the cliff dwellers to come to the beach, the sea witch made the best waves anyone had ever seen. Each wave, curled into a perfect tube along the glass surface of the water. The boys called all their friends and told their families to come and watch them surf. There was loud music and fires burning on the beach, people brought food and drink to watch their children ride the waves.

When the sea witch saw that all the cliff dwellers were at the beach and their children playing in the water she gathered all her powers and brushed her hair into a great bundle that formed the largest wave anyone had ever seen. It roared toward the surfers and the beach. Some of the surfers swam out to catch the monster wave while others swam to the beach. But it didn't matter.

The great wave swept them all up in its waters. It pushed surfers and boards onto the sand of the bay and smashed with fury against the cliffs. Then it swept everyone away that was in the water and on the beach to where a great many sharks waited. The sharks pulled them under the water and tore off their arms and legs until the sharks ate the last human.

But the sea witch was not through. She gathered her hair again into a great bundle and with the help of gale winds made an even bigger wave. This wave rose high, so high that when it smashed against the cliff the whole hillside shuddered and collapsed into the sea. The homes of the wealthy lay scattered on the waters where the sea witch pulled all the debris far out into the ocean.

Now there was only a beach left, the cliff just a gentle rise from the ocean's water with no trace that a human ever lived there. The waves lapped at the beach instead of forming beautiful curls to ride, and people came no more to bother the sea witch or her friends the sharks. 

What's For Dinner?

Deep in the woods lived a very old witch. Her companions were a warty toad and a very skinny cat with silky black fur and green eyes. She had no friends because any time someone came to visit they were never heard from again. But one day someone did come.

A pretty little girl with red curly hair and freckles the color of cinnamon that sprinkled her face was lost in the woods. She had followed a creek looking for watercress that lead her near the witch's cottage. Once the little girl spotted the cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, she ran to the front door to knock and ask if someone could help her find the way back home.

Just as she was about to knock, the smell of roast potatoes filled the air and made her hungry. She put down the basket in her hand that held the watercress she collected. She then straightened her dress and buffed her shoes to wipe off any smudge before she knocked at the door.

There was no answer and she thought that she might knock harder when she noticed the door had an iron knocker in the shape of a pig's snout. So the little girl raised the knocker and let it go to announce that someone was there. Soon the witch came to the door and opened it.

The old witch looked down at the girl and then to the right and left to see if anyone was with her. "Dear, dear," said the old witch, "Have you lost your way?"

"Yes," said the little girl. "I was picking watercress for my mother, but now I can't find my way back home."

The witch chuckled with a crackly voice and said, "Oh my. How terrible!"and rubbed her twisted hands together. "Won't you come in dearie, I have some potatoes in the oven and they're just about done."

The little girl smelled a whiff of the potatoes and her stomach growled with hunger. "All right, I'm so hungry."

"Why don't you have something to eat then before I show you the way back?" Asked the witch.

"All right," and then she stepped over the threshold into the witches cottage.

The little girl looked at the simple cottage with a table and chairs near the stove where the smell of potatoes came from. On the floor, near one of the chairs at the table sat a cat and next to the cat was a toad.

"Oh," said the girl, "Are they your pets?"

"Pets? Oh, no they are more than that. They are my friends for I'm all alone here in the woods."

The witch walked over to the two and pointed at the cat. "This is Matelda." She then pointed to the toad, "And this is Quirk. He's a toad you know."

"Yes said the girl, he looks very much like a toad." She then walked over to them both and extended her hand. "How do you do? My name is Thimble."

Matelda placed her paw in Thimble's hand and meowed. Then Quirk hopped next to her and put his tiny webbed hand in hers and croaked.

"Oh, they are delightful! Are they having potatoes too?"

"Yes dear they are. But you know Quirk has been eying that delicious watercress in your basket, do you think he could have some?"

The little girl giggled before she took from the basket a handful of watercress and placed it in the hand of the toad.

"Oh no," said the witch, "We have to sit down first."

So the witch arranged the chairs around the table while the cat and toad retrieved platters, forks and knives and put them by the plates. Then the witch went to the oven and pulled out a pan of potatoes. She placed the hot spuds next to the watercress the girl had for the toad.

"Sit down dearie," said the witch and pointed to where Thimble was to sit. Once the little girl sat down, the cat and toad took their seats and the witch hers.

"Now lets make a wish before we eat," said the witch. "Who ever eats the potato with a worm has their wish come true."

The little girl was aghast at the thought of eating a worm even though she wanted her wish to come true, and that was to get home to her mother. She wondered if she would get a potato with a worm.

The witch passed the plate of potatoes to Thimble and said to her, "Go on, dearie you pick first."

Thimble looked carefully at the potatoes and saw one that was absolutely perfect with no worm holes at all and took that. Then the witch handed her a plate of watercress to go with the potato and Thimble took some watercress too. After Thimble was served the plates were passed around and each took a potato with some watercress.

When everyone had eaten, Thimble wondered who would have their wish granted because she knew that she didn't eat a worm and waited to see what would happen.

When the last potato and piece of watercress was eaten, the witch reached in a pocket of her dress, took out a wand and waved it in the air.

Thimble felt a tingling feeling all through her body as she transformed into a bird with bright red feathers. She looked at her hands that were now wings and her feet that were now bird legs and chirped.

"I know dear, but now you'll eat worms when they are offered to you next time." The witch then placed Thimble in a bird cage for her to sing for the toad and cat.

Tired Of The Pity Pot

I'm going to change what I'm doing. It's time for me to pick myself up, dust myself off and get back in the ring.

IT'S FAIRY TALE TIME

The Help

Rich people, really rich people have good help. Unless of course the lord and lady are complete assholes, and even then, with enough money, you can still hire good help. I suppose Donald Trump fits the picture, money plus assholeness will still buy what you want.

Not so much for the rest of us. I've given up on finding someone without  personal problems because--you get what you pay for. And we can't afford a registered nurse around the clock and an orderly for the daily care. We don't have room in a two bed-one bath, WW2 cottage. It's nice and cozy for three people but they would have to get along. And there is the problem.

We have a nice place, something we made it into with organic gardens of vegetable and ornamental. There are five chickens in a hen house for fresh eggs and fertilizer. A patio with a running fountain  under a grape arbor and comfortable patio furniture nearby. A place to relax, have a drink and chat with friends while entertaining outside. We like it. Wally still enjoys going outside when he can.

You would think someone living in their car, or in a flop house, or someone's living room would appreciate a room with a view. But what happens is they want more. They always want more. A taste, even the taste of middle class is delicious compared to what they had before. And that's the case for all the help we've hired.

They are always very appreciative at first but as time goes by it isn't enough. There is free room and board, and a thousand a month. They can have friends over, within reason, because more than one, wanted either a lot of friends over any time and another that wants a girlfriend. I have had to put up with a crazy fucking German Shepherd and its Mistress that doted  on the dog constantly. And, get this, one was pimping out his girlfriend for blowjobs in the backyard. Strangers were coming over for fucking blowjobs by his bitch. I've had it all. Drunks, addicts and people with attitude problems, and I mean real attitude problems, the kind that are debilitating.

And all along there is Wally and me, trying to survive for a while longer, floating in the river, going with the flow, watching the day past. There is a humiliating factor in getting old. When you have to depend on others for survival, for things that not too long ago were not a problem, like the twist cap on a bottle of beer.

More later.

Queer Nation, Is Anyone Out There?

It's been a while since I've hit the keys. Wally, I'm realizing, is on a steady decline. I've had to hire two other people to help. One gay and someone I know--friend of a friend thing, helps me on Beto's day off. The other is to help Beto when I ride my bike on Wednesday. He likes women a lot, Beto, being a healthy hetro. He has a recently divorced woman with a wonderful brilliant child to help him. The kid is a delight, already the smartest in the family.

But it is a living hell here. Not in the since you might think.

You see, when Wally and I met and during the course of our romance, we never thought, like most couples in love, that some tragedy would enter our lives.

The problem with dementia is that, unlike cancer, there is no hope. It is always--ALWAYS--fatal.

And in the most twisted, cruel way imaginable. The patient isn't really aware of it, only that everyone else is acting strange. And you, the one that loves them has to deal with that.

At the gym one day, years ago, I saw a guy with a T that said, "Adapt Or Die." No truer words are there in all of knowledge. And, I try to live by them. "One Day At A Time." That's a good one to keep you from going fucking looney.

So I have adapted and I try, with good success, to keep it one day at a time.

I gotta go, and I'm not going to save this for later and let it pile up like my e-mail is anymore. More later on having help, help you, that's a whole other dimension.

Writing And Life

It's been hard for me to sit down and write anything. I can't blame Wally's care demands solely on my lack of writing nor can I blame it on the sudden death of a friend and her husband, another writer. But it seems to add up, in some sort of strange way, to a lack of will in committing myself. I haven't worked on much anything let alone this blog. Could it be depression? Maybe.

The only thing I can do about all of this is to persevere and try to move forward the best I can. I desperately would love to go somewhere for a while but can't. That's just a reality I'm faced with right now. Wally has gone to the Hollywood Bowl every summer since he was seventeen, but I can't take him this year, it's just too hard to do anymore. It tears me up inside not to take him but I don't know what else I can do. If we need to use the public restroom to clean him should he have a bowel  movement we're fucked. It's one thing to clean a baby's bottom at a public bathroom but a full grown adult? They don't have the facilities for that.

And friends, they mean well but for the most part friends act like friends. For instance, on Saturday I try to have some people over for company, what happens is they show up not when I've asked them to, while Wally is napping from one to four, so that I can have some time to be with them, but at four or after. Now I have to deal with the friends and get Wally up. This last Saturday, after getting Wally up after his nap, my guests showed up at last, one of them needs to eat before seven, so I put on a pot of potatoes to go with the fried chicken I was buying at Popeyes. When I returned with the chicken, the pot of potatoes boiled over, both friends were right there waiting for my return without so much as turning the heat down. And on top of that I got static for taking so long, they had no regular chicken only spicy so I had to wait for it. Now I'm trying to get the chicken out, mash potatoes(what was left of them), get Wally's medicine, and I asked one of them to set the table. He threw out in the middle of the table: forks, knives and napkins, literally threw them on the table, no organization. That was the help I got.

I was a little miffed and announced that next Saturday would be different. I'm getting take-out. No more cooking for me. You should have heard the comments. It was like they thought they were entitled to a home cooked meal. But I'm like everyone else, I want to sit in the shade and be waited on.

Then there is the caregiver. Humberto isn't as crazy as the others I've had, but he likes women A LOT. To the point that twice now, I've had to have women with their dogs or their kids live here with us in a one bathroom home. The latest is from Columbia with a young son. They don't speak English even though the father sent them here to learn English, he wasted his money, for the only time I hear English is when they have a question for me. Outside of that, they speak with each other in Spanish while I'm feeding or giving Wally something to drink. It's like living in your own home and at the same time being a visitor.

I think that's what bothers me the most. I have to share our home with strangers so that I can get help for Wally. There is no privacy for us. There are no intimate moments anymore, no mornings together with the newspaper and coffee. I cannot get ten minutes without an interruption. It took all day to write this between the caregivers girlfriend interrupting me, her son, or the caregiver. Then there is Wally's needs, and that's a whole different subject. I'm tired all the time now. I wake up tired and go to bed tired and still I keep trying to find time to write. It is very, very hard.

Seahawk Our Rubber Boat

Cost is a hundred bucks. What you see in the photo is what you get for the hundred, except for the lake. Nice lake too, but where we launched, after about six hundred in upgrades, the lake didn't look like this. Not to complain, with our drought we're happy to have water to boat in.

A friend from Atlanta came here a month earlier to photograph, and that's a whole other story,  helped me build a wood floor that folds in half because the bottom of the boat is all some sort of rubber that inflates. The floor fit well and everything worked like it should. I did stand up out on the lake, changed my a chair around and then got back in the chair without falling in the water. Mexican Monkey waited for the splash that never came.

The electric motor did especially well. The battery for it is real heavy though. We launched on the lower lake, the upper, larger lake of Castaic  had white tops as far as the eye could see. Even the lower, better sheltered lake, had white caps but near the shoreline more calm. The ranger at the upper lake, after seeing how terrified I looked with Mexican Monkey itching to get us out in troubled waters, suggested killing the old geezer on the lower lake, it wouldn't look so obvious that way. Mexican Monkey agreed.

I was happy, the kid at the gate at the lower lake had a nice manner, and cute enough for a tip jar. We didn't have to go through all the formalities of checking the boat because this was its maiden voyage. Virginity does have virtue. Otherwise we would have to inflate it first there at the station, and let him examine the motor. An invasive mollusk that clogs drainage is around and they're trying to keep it out of lakes. Good luck with that.

Mexican Monkey wanted to steer the boat. He wanted it so bad I could taste the want. So I said, "Go ahead, steer the boat, but do not hit anything. He was so happy, and like a pup with his head out the window, steered us directly into the middle of the lake where the white caps danced. Each wave brought another splash over the bow of the boat that soaked the entire front of me. Pleas of mercy went unattended and I thought, if I don't drown, we will at least take on too much water. Mexican Monkey didn't care though and wanted to make sure to soak me clean through to my underwear before steering to the calmer waters along the shoreline.

Once we settled down to drown some bait, the warmth of the day, the water as it lapped against the boat, all had a calming effect, even on Mexican Monkey. There is a peace that descends when you're on a boat out in a lake. Even fishing from shore gives a serenity that only a fisherman knows. We didn't catch anything but then nothing caught us either and it was a hell of a lot of fun just to get away.