Jan Krause Greene's Blog, page 6
September 30, 2013
First chapter - Gloria's dilemma is revealed
CHAPTER 1
Gloria Geist awoke from the dream overwhelmed by a feeling of dread. It was that same dream again and it left her feeling vulnerable, afraid and pregnant…very pregnant.
She did not want to have a baby. Not now, not at this stage of her life. She was 46 years old. She had a married daughter who was expecting her first child. She had come to terms with being a grandmother before she was ready. She didn’t think she could come to terms with being a pregnant grandmother. Besides, her husband and daughter would be horrified. This couldn’t be happening, but she was pretty sure it was.
She shivered with apprehension as she finally confronted her nagging fear. She went into the downstairs bathroom, locked the door and peed on the pregnancy-detection stick that she had hidden weeks ago. If her fear was confirmed, and those last few months without periods were because of pregnancy, she would have to tell Jared she was pregnant rather than menopausal.
Feeling faint, she stayed seated on the toilet and put her head down between her knees. She held the stick tightly between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. She was going to give herself a few seconds before she looked at it again. Maybe she had read it wrong the first time. After all, it had been years since she used one of these.
As the blood began to flow back to her brain, she was able to think more clearly. With the fingers on her left hand, she carefully counted back the months to the last time she and Jared made love. Not enough fingers on one hand. This was bad, really bad.
It didn’t add up right. She didn’t see how she could have conceived. Jared had been gone for a month-long business training right about the time she would have had to conceive if her missed periods were an indication of when she got pregnant. This didn’t make sense. She decided to get to her gynecologist as soon as possible. She needed answers...and soon.
Her visit to the doctor left her with more questions, than answers. If her doctor was right about how far along she was, she would have had to conceive while her husband was out of town. This was a total impossibility. She shivered as she contemplated what this could mean.
As she walked to the parking lot, she began to feel off balance and out of it; the same way she felt after taking antihistamines. Her heart beat rapidly as she tried frantically to figure out how she could possibly be only three months pregnant. Maybe it would be better to walk. She headed towards Touro Park. A short walk around the perimeter might clear her head. What she really needed was someone to talk to, but how could she share this news with anyone? It would be devastating if it got back to Jared.
She sat on a bench and started to cry. Before she noticed, a man in a tattered pea coat, mismatched boots and a dirty watch cap sat down beside her.
“Hey, Curly, why the tears? What does a pretty lady like you have to cry about?”
She recognized him as soon as he started to speak. It was the homeless man whom she saw almost every time she went to the park. Most people thought he was crazy. She made a habit of greeting him and treating him with respect, even though Jared thought he might be dangerous. One day a few years ago, when her unruly hair was blowing into her face, he called her Curly. Ever since, that had been his name for her. They had developed a friendship of sorts, based on friendly greetings and her occasional gifts of hot drinks, gloves, socks and much-needed tissues. She figured she was one of the only people who treated him like a normal human being. She went out of her way to be kind to him. He often said to her, “Don’t you worry. I’ve got your back,” even though there was no reason to think she needed someone to have her back.
She wished he would leave her alone now, but knew that he wouldn’t go if he thought she was in trouble. Wiping away the tears on her cheek with the back of her hand, she looked at him intently.
“I know you can keep a secret. Right?”
“Hell yes, Curly. I can keep a secret. No one talks to me, and when I talk to folks they think I’m psycho. I’m your man for a secret. Just call me your secret keeper and I’ll call you my secret weeper.”
She considered his answer. Maybe he is crazy, but no one will believe anything he says about me.
“I’ve got a problem. I’m pregnant and...”
“Unplanned babies. Hmmmmm, there are lots of those in the world, Curly. Look at the stars, probably as many unplanned babies as stars in the skies. Did you know that we are made of stars?”
“Sure. I know...lots of unplanned babies but this one can’t be my husband’s,” she said, tears beginning to flow again.
“Oh, well that’s a different problem… Curly, I hate to tell you but you are in some deep shit. Cheating women, ummm, ummm, ummm...lot of songs been written about them cheating women.”
“I didn’t cheat! I didn’t even have sex. I just…well…I think it happened in a dream,” she said tentatively.
“And people think I’m crazy? That’s a good one, Curly, but even a wacko guy like me can’t believe that one. Unless, you are the Virgin Mary come back to life in the here and now. You aren’t, are you?”
For an instant she considered the story about the Virgin Mary. She had never really believed this story, but for a moment she empathized with the Virgin Mary and what she must have gone through before she told Joseph that she was pregnant. She wondered when people started referring to Jesus’ mother as the Virgin Mary, and that led her to wonder ruefully how people would refer to her. The Cheating Gloria? Maybe the Crazy Gloria?
“Hey, Curly, don’t look so sad. Why don’t you tell me the whole story? I’ll figure out an answer. You know that when I look through a window, I always see things no one else can see,” he said.
“I don’t want to disappoint you, but the only reason I am telling you any of this is because I know no one will believe you if you ever repeat it,” she said.
“Yeh, I get that. That’s for true. Go on, tell me how you got yourself in this fix, Curly.”
“I don’t even know and I sure as hell don’t know which will be harder, telling my daughter that I am pregnant or telling my husband I am pregnant with a baby that is not his.”
“That one is easy, Curly. Telling your husband is gonna be harder for sure. Whoooeeee, that’s gonna be a hurtin’ time.”
“You’re no help. You don’t even believe that I didn’t cheat on Jared. But l didn’t. You know the beginning of menopause does weird things to a woman’s cycle and people have change-of-life babies. My periods have been kind of random lately.”
“Maybe I don’t need to know all the woman stuff details about this,” he interjected.
“But, it’s important. See, if I wasn’t pregnant and my periods were regular, I would be just about due for my third period since Jared’s business trip. According to the doctor, I am fourteen weeks pregnant. That means I got pregnant while he was gone. But that’s impossible.”
“Sure is impossible if he’s the daddy,” he added.
“We didn’t even have sex for months before he left because of his back sprain, and before that I got poison ivy on my legs, and that was gross. So if I figure back to the last time we actually made love, I would have to be at least six months pregnant, and the doctor says I’m definitely not.”
“Ummm, ummm, that’s a mystery.”
“God knows what he thinks about why I kept insisting that I had to be farther along. He probably thinks I’m having an affair. Like that would ever happen.”
“Curly, you got a world of trouble here. I got to think about this before I see an answer. I’m gonna go look through that window there…that one, the third one over…that’s the one. I think you best go home and face the music now. Get it over with.”
As he walked away, Gloria considered her options. Maybe she should stop for a cup of coffee before going home. She just couldn’t walk back into her house, knowing she was pregnant and that she literally did not know how she had conceived. It made no sense to her. Worse than that, it scared the bejeezus out of her. As she ordered a large latte, she pushed the hair off her forehead. Her temples were covered with sweat and her thick, curly hair was beginning to clump in moist bunches.
She had so much to figure out, so many questions she needed to answer. The list made her head throb. She really wanted to call her best friend Sheila, but Sheila was also her sister-in-law. She just couldn’t take the chance that Sheila would tell Jared’s brother. She sipped her latte tentatively, wondering if it was still okay to drink coffee. She hoped it was because giving up coffee would be even harder than giving up alcohol.
Alcohol. Oh my God, how much wine have I had in the last three months? She needed to get a grip. Most of all, she needed to figure out how to break this news to Jared. How could she tell her husband she was pregnant and the baby was not his, but not to be upset? How could she make him understand that she had not had sex with anyone, and yet she was pregnant? It made no sense to her. How could she expect him to believe it?
Would telling Melanie be any easier than telling Jared? Probably not. No matter how the baby was conceived, Melanie would not be happy to hear that she was going to have a sibling the same age as her own child. No point thinking they might grow closer because they were pregnant together. No way. Melanie would be at best incredulous and at worst very hurt and angry.
The more she contemplated telling her husband and daughter, the more convinced she became that there was no upside to telling them. She was in an impossible situation that made absolutely no sense to her. If she was having trouble believing it, how could she expect Jared and Melanie to believe it?
Despite her worries about how Jared and Melanie would react, the question that caused her the most distress would surely be the hardest to answer. Does this pregnancy really have something to do with that dream? Could I possibly be the girl in the dream?
For the past few months, Gloria had been plagued by a recurring nightmare; a nightmare so real and so graphic that she had begun to wonder if she had tapped into a past life. Each time she had the dream she felt more connected to it. But the realization that she was actually pregnant with a baby that could not be Jared’s shocked her into believing that she was truly linked in some mysterious way to the girl in the dream.
Every time she woke up from this nightmare, about a young girl who was raped, she felt an intense desire to help her. But now, with her inexplicable pregnancy confirmed, she felt trapped and afraid.
The dream was always exactly the same. It was a narrative told by a young pregnant girl in a hospital. The girl always began the story by referring to her celestial life, but the story was about her earthly life. The dream always ended with the girl in a hospital bed, being told by a nurse, that she was pregnant. Every time Gloria had this nightmare, she woke up just as the girl was learning that she was pregnant. Each time she woke, she wondered if she felt a stirring inside her womb.
She had this same dream so many times during the past three months that she could recite it from memory. Now, as she sat bent over a half-empty cup of coffee, she reviewed the dream yet again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's the first chapter. Here's a short video that tells you a little more about the dream.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AEW7f...
And Yet...
It was a lovely event and it felt good to be there. It felt good to know that across the U.S. and around the world, other like-minded people were getting together to celebrate a day dedicated to peace. And yet...
And yet, throughout the U.S. and across the globe, violence continues, and I have to ask myself, after all these years, is the Day of Peace making a difference? I want to believe it is. As a matter of fact, I do believe it is a making a difference, but not enough of a difference.
Yes, there are celebrations of Peace Day around the world, and these celebrations are increasing in number. This is, of course, a good thing. I know it matters and I know that the more of us who have peace in our hearts, the more peaceful the world becomes. And yet...
And yet, after more than 30 years of Peace Day, the geo-political climate is not one of peace. Or is it? Various studies and statistics tell us that the world is more peaceful than it has ever been. (I include links to these studies at the end of this blog post.) This is encouraging news and it makes me feel that working for peace and celebrating peace is working to a certain degree. It gives those of us who believe world peace is actually possible encouragement to keep believing and to keep working for peace. Most importantly, it shows that the paradigm is shifting away from violence and oppression as the way to resolve conflict. And yet...
And yet, this shift is slow and tentative and easily disrupted. The sad and alarming fact is that the world is less peaceful now than it was five years ago. 110 countries are more violent now than they were in 2008. This fact should really concern all of us because it shows that a trend towards peace and non-violence is easily disrupted. The causes are varied and often reflect the desire of people to have better lives - lives that are characterized by
more freedom,
racial/ethnic, religious and gender equality
secure access to the basic necessities of life, including enough food, a source of income, medical care, and education.
No one can fault people for these desires. And yet...
And yet, it is imperative that we learn how to achieve these goals without violence. This should truly be a primary goal of every country, every government and every person in the 21st century. Recently the world has seen diplomacy prevent the U.S. from dropping missiles in Syria. To those of us who believe in negotiation this is a gratifying testimony to the power of non-violent conflict resolution. And yet...
And yet, the road before us is long and hard. To truly change the paradigm away from war and violence we must work at every level and in every way. We must work on the individual level and the local level. We must work to influence governments to seek peaceful solutions. We must use politics and churches, schools, universities, non-governmental organizations, media, music and literature to change the global consciousness away from war, revenge and retribution. In order to do this, we must also make it our work to ensure that people everywhere have access to the basic necessities of life. This is a tall order. And yet...
And yet, what if we diverted all of the money, brain power and resources that we use to create weapons and military power to finding ways to ensure that all people have basic human rights? How different would our world be by the end of the 21st century? I would like to find out. So, as we learn that the world is becoming more violent again, we must not let go of our belief in peaceful solutions. We must work with more love in our hearts; with more determination to wage peace instead of war; we must not only want peace, we must learn to be peace. And we must never, ever let ourselves lose hope.
ID-10065199
http://www.policymic.com/articles/476...
http://www.salon.com/2013/04/23/the_w...
http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/0...
http://www.dalailama.com/messages/wor...
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/...
http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/articles/479...
http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-201_162-5...
The next morning my mother told us that we must pray for our father and all the good men that had been taken by the enemy. We must pray for our men to be safe and to defeat the enemy. We must pray for God to wreak vengeance on our enemy.
“What does vengeance mean?” my brother asked when were finished praying. My mother, who I had always known as gentle and kind, replied, "Vengeance means doing worse to them than they do to us. If they kill our men, we must kill their men and their children. We must leave them with nothing. Not even hope.”
My brother looked confused. “If God wreaks vengeance on them for killing our men, will our men come back to life?”
“No, they will still be dead, but their deaths won’t be in vain. God will take more lives from them, than He takes from us and that will mean we have won the war.” When I heard these words, I knew that my mother had already lost hope. She would never ask God to kill anyone if she wasn’t overcome with grief and fear.
My brother sat silent for a few seconds, and then he said, “I guess I don’t understand war. What good does it do to kill everyone?” (from I Call Myself Earth Girl, chapter 2.)
September 29, 2013
99 cent ebook promotion
For a limited time I Call Myself Earth Girl is available in all ebook formats, including Kindle and Nook for only 99 cents!
Please buy a copy and let me know what you think. Here are excerpts from some of the reviews on Amazon.com:
This was a wonderfully thought provoking, captivating and well written story that sucks you right into the middle of the characters lives! I found myself totally submerged in the pages and often lost track of time while reading. Bravo!!!
Just finished reading I Call Myself Earth Girl. Wow! Can’t remember last time I read a book so quickly, because I didn’t want to put it down yet at the same time wanted to slow down to absorb the message. Not only did I enjoy it,I was mesmerized by the characters, and will continue to reflect on the message. It is time to change our way of how we think about life on earth and as a human race. This book is a reminder that each choice we make in life does impact our future generations.
I was totally hooked throughout the entirety of this story about a baby girl born by an impossible conception (a sort of virgin birth, let’s say) who seems to have a warning for the world. This is not a plot you’ve read before; the story is unique. It’s so cliche to say “I couldn’t put it down,” but that’s exactly how this novel went for me. It moves fast. I won’t say more so that I don’t take away anyone’s fun in reading it.
What a powerful book this is! It travels between the present day to dreams from another time, all the while keeping the reader mesmerized. The characters are rich and believable, living with daily joys and struggles. On one level it is a work of fiction, on another an environmental plea and warning of the perils Mother Earth may face. The surprising ending will have you hoping for a sequel.
The surprising answer emerges out of the twists and turns of a well-structured plot that leaves the characters, the world, and the reader much changed. In fact, these lines of William Butler Yeats sum up the book: “All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born.”
The novel blends ecology, mystic wisdom, and the many facets of family love into a satisfying whole. Jan Krause Green is very good at developing and resolving conflicts among her characters, and she has a gift for making the bizarre believable. I Call Myself Earth Girl is her first novel, but it begs for a sequel.
So, please check it out!
September 11, 2013
The bittersweet gift of 9/11
All of the 9/11 remembrances and tributes on FB today and have been so heartfelt and beautiful, somber and sad, yet filled with gratitude for the emergency responders. Just like everyone else, my memories of that day are crystal clear, and just as some have written, I, too, feel sad about how America has changed since 9/11.
But I am going to share a different kind of memory from that time. I remember being gathered together with my family in the living room that evening after everyone had returned home from work and school. I remember feeling overwhelmingly grateful that we were all safe.I could literally feel with my body, as well as my heart and soul, the love we have for each other and how precious each of us was (is) to each other.
My heart was breaking for everyone who lost a parent, a child, a spouse, a lover, a friend. I could not sleep for days thinking of the enormity of the loss to so many people who never had a chance to say “Good-bye. I love you,” one last time. It seems so selfish, but I don’t think I have ever felt luckier or more blessed in my life, just knowing that each of us was safe.
Our family changed that day. We made more time for each other in the months that followed. More family dinners, more phone calls, more sense of needing and wanting to be together. Time passes and the intensity of fear, relief, needing each other’s company wanes. We begin to take each other for granted again. I don’t mean this in a “oh they don’t care about me” way. I mean that in normal day-to day life we don’t always recognize how precious our family circle is. We don’t focus, really focus, on how much we love each other.
So, today, while I remember the immense tragedy of 9/11 and while I honor those lives lost, I will also be thankful for the awareness that day of loss brought to our family. We are profoundly lucky to have each other.
September 9, 2013
Pete Seeger, Still Braving the Storm
Reblogged from Transition Times:
Every generation there are a few great souls that rise up so full of the sap of life that their cup brims over and carries everyone around them along with it.
Pete Seeger is one of those great souls. Born in 1919, coming of age during the Great Depression and the American labor movement, he channeled his gift for moving others into his music, and became the voice of several generations of Americans restless with the status quo, searching for a better world.
I reblogged this because I have always been inspired by Pete Seeger. Jennifer does a great job of sharing the experience of attending his concert. This paragraph from the blog really sum up what I think of when I think of Pete Seeger: Focus on the positive, Pete seemed to be telling us—on what can be done, what should be done, what is being done to make our world a safer, saner, more loving place. Do the work together, joyfully, singing all the while. Have courage, be of good heart, and don’t be afraid to brave the storm, together.
September 8, 2013
Introducing a fellow writer with a cat and a whimsical sense of humor…
Welcome to David Prosser! Let’s see what he has to say today.
What is the title of your book? What genre?
The latest book is called Memoirs of a Superior and is in the humour genre. Anything different and the world would wonder what was wrong. I’m not cut out to be serious.
Is this your first book?
Regretfully not. This is the fourth book inflicted upon an unsuspecting public. The first three are part of the Barsetshire Diaries Series. To confuse issues, Book 1 starts the story, Book 2 is a prequel and then 3 returns to continue the Original story.
What is this book about? (brief synopsis)
Actually I cannot take credit for this book. It was written by Oscar who considers himself the star of the three earlier books. As my cat, though he prefers to be called a Superior he wished to pass on details of his adventures and his words of wisdom to all kittens who would follow him. He includes human kittens in that since they should recognise his magnificence too.
My own personal advice to readers is NEVER to let their cats read this lest they get ideas not intended to benefit we Longlegs.
What inspired you to write this particular book?
Actually I think blackmail is a better description than inspiration. I made the error when I was writing to refer to Oscar by his real name. He threatened legal action If I did not ‘kindly’ supply him with his own blog from whence these musings came.
Do you enjoy the actual writing process, or does it feel more like work to you?
Needless to say, I’ve worked harder at this than I did at work. All the time spent blogging and promoting the books takes up more than the 8 hours a day I used to work.
For you, what is the difference between communicating with your readers through a blog, and reaching them through a book?
When I’m writing a book I’m aiming if possible to entertain and distract themselves happily for a while. With the blog I’m holding conversations with them. Sharing my life and often sharing theirs too. The responses to a blog can be instant and ongoing whereas with the books people are often ind enough to review them, speak to others about them but rarely converse with me.
What has been the most difficult or challenging aspect of being a writer?
I’ve had to unlearn being such a private person from within my little hideaway. I rarely go out and find meeting people stressful but I’ve had to communicate. I’ve also had to learn more about computers than I ever wanted to know and more about social sites than I thought existed. It’s also been very challenging getting to grips with promotion through the social sites, the press and of course the blogs and interviews.
What three words would you use to describe yourself?
Quiet, reserved Welshman.
What three words would you use to describe the process of getting a book out to the public?
Damned hard work.
If you could have three wishes granted, what would they be?
World Peace
A cure for all Cancers
A best seller that put a smile on the World’s Face.
Please share an excerpt from the book .
Oscar gives a gift.
My prowl through the grass was successful at early light time. I caught a small running thing. I just knew that I wanted to play with it but that I had promised a gift for ‘The Her.’ I jumped up onto the ledge of the clearway and though my mouth was full I still managed to call out my success. ‘The Her’ would not wake and so it was only fair that this gift when through to the him, after all I had asked four times in the dark for my head to be scratched and stroked and he had done it. Not for long enough but he had understood my orders. Especially the last one to open the small clearway and allow me out.
Anyway, I walked into his sleeping space calling loudly to him to prepare for the gift I brought. As I jumped up on his platform he woke and slowly opened his eyes. Wider and wider they went. Such strange faces these long legs can pull. I told him of the gift then realising it would be easier without a full mouth I dropped the gift in his lap and explained it was because of his good service. ‘The Him’ shouted something which I guess was their way of saying thank you and at that moment the stunned gift woke up and ran.
These Longlegs can move quickly when they want to. ‘The Him’ shot off his sleeping place and followed the gift out of the door. Naturally I was close behind. When the gift ran in to the big room with sitting places for the long legs I readied myself to follow and show my prowess again but ‘The Him’ went in and closed the clearway so I could not follow. I sat where I was left and called out that he had forgotten me. He seemed not to hear and I called louder which made ‘The Her’ come to see me. She ruffled my ears and opened the clearway but I heard ‘The Him’ call out to her. Too late I was in.
‘The Him’ was looking for the gift behind the long seat which was silly as I could smell it behind the thing that gets hot and has fire. I went to get it and it ran again right over ‘The Her’s’ foot. She made a loud noise.
‘The Him’ picked me up and placed me in the food place and closed the clearway. I was not happy. Why do they let the gift run away like this and then they pretend to look for it when I could take them straight to it. I heard a squeak and was pleased that ‘The Him’ had learned some of my skills and caught the small running thing. After a few minutes, when I heard a clearway being opened and closed, my clearway was opened. I checked the place where the smell had last been but it was gone. ‘The Him and The Her’ must have eaten the gift. I was pleased that it had been so well received but why do they not thank me with a few strokes and some food? They seem to be ignoring me apart from some strange looks they send my way. I think this is ingratitude and might not show off my skills again for them. No more gifts until they learn.
The Postman’s Foot.
I’m not greedy. I’m sure you’re far too clever to be taken in by silly rumours that sometimes I wolf my food down too fast. It’s just that I get hungry.
After my period of hunting in the dark-time, I came back through the clearway and found that my ‘The Her and The Him’ had filled my dishes with fresh chicken. I was hungry, very hungry, as the hunt had not gone well. I tell you this so that you Longlegs will understand that when I started feeling sick, it was the food’s fault and not mine for eating it at speed in case it got away.
My stomach started rebelling against me and I made the sound of wanting to give the food back. ‘The Her’ grabbed me round the stomach and ran with me. This did not help at all. The Him opened the large clearway and I was ejected unceremoniously. Unfortunately my flight came to an abrupt end as I hit The Him who comes daily and puts things through the little hole in the clearway. We were both startled but he more so as my stomach had decided now was a good time to eject it’s contents, all over the removable paws of The Daily Him.
I scrambled to gain my footing and shot off to admire the flowers in the garden from inside a large bush, but from where I could hear loud words from the clearway as The Daily Him and ‘The Her’ talked. I saw ‘The Him’ come with white stuff and start wiping down the Daily Him’s paws.
Things quieted down a little and The Daily Him left, I could hear him talking quiet words all down the path. ‘The Her’ threw water all over the place where the infected food had left me and turned to go inside. I shot in before the clearway was closed against me.
I did not think the long legs would understand about my illness but I was wrong. As I launched myself onto ‘The Her’s’ sleeping place she came in and offered strokes as I heard her saying “Poor Oscar” and other things I don’t understand. I lay back and accepted my due.
Now all I have to do is hope that Ginger and the others don’t hear of my flight or I’ll never hear the end of it.
Sock it to me one more time.
I like to sleep on the long legs sleeping places. Sometimes with them and often without. I also have a sleeping place they gave me which hangs from a warm place and a secret, quiet place of my own. Or it was secret until today.
My ‘The Her’ was scratching her claws with something that made a lovely sound and I liked the movement. Back and forth, back and forth. I liked it so much that I jumped onto her legs and rubbed my head against her paws so she could stroke me. As she did so I grasped the scratch thing in my mouth and ran. She called after me but not very loudly and I heard that funny hiccuping sound again that they make when happy. I could hear her telling ‘The Him’ something to make him hiccup too.
I took the ‘borrowed’ object to my secret bed but it did not move back and forth for me. It just lay there even though I played with it a lot.
After a while I rested.
Later on as I walked through my home I saw something interesting in the small place with a seat. The clearway was open and near the fountain where I sometimes get a drink was something long and hard with a wonderful smell. The hole where the smell came from was too small to get anything but the very tip of my tongue. It was annoying but I knocked it to the ground to play some more. As I jumped down I landed on it and a long worm ran out of the small hole. I pounced but my claws went straight through it and my paws were covered in the white sticky with a nice smell. I soon tired as it did not play with me and decided to walk away. As I did so it was funny because my paws were left behind wherever I walked and yet they stayed on my feet. I could see them, and I walked in a circle and so did they.
‘The Him’ came towards me but he did not hiccup this time. I heard my name in a roar and ran. ‘The Him’ followed and caught me up with his long legs just as I reached my secret sleeping place. He roared again as he saw where I was, and my bed.
“Socks” he shouted, “My socks” he shouted even louder, and started pulling my bed to pieces, lots of pieces, lots and lots of pieces as I had found that his removable fur for his back paws was very very soft and nice to sleep on so I had ‘borrowed’ some.
‘The Her’ approached to see what was wrong and there were the hiccups I liked again. They were so loud that even ‘The Him’ had to join in and at last he rubbed my head as I deserved.
As it is now a good hunting time I will not be telling my stories every day. I hope you will forgive me for this but I must find lots of gifts for my Longlegs.
Links.
Facebook Author Lord David Prosser…. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Lord-David-Prosser/181206641934100?fref=ts
Facebook David Michael Prosser…. https://www.facebook.com/david.m.prosser?ref=tn_tnmn
Amazon Author’s Page. http://www.amazon.com/Lord-David-Prosser/e/B004I7CFTU/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Lulu.com for Memoirs of a Superior Paperback. http://www.lulu.com/shop/lord-david-prosser/memoirs-of-a-superior/paperback/product-21159205.html
September 6, 2013
What are we waiting for? Violence and climate change in our brave new world.
Reblogged from Transition Times:
Finally, in the Sunday New York Times, a report giving empirical evidence of what we already knew intuitively, that climate change leads to violence, and that it’s going to get worse as the planet continues to warm.
For a couple of years now I’ve had a haunting premonition that violence is going to come even to the comfortable, beautiful corner of the world where I live.
Climate change and the prediction of increasing violence are certainly not good news. My concern about both is one of the reasons I wrote, I Call Myself Earth Girl . But here, at the end of this blog is the GOOD NEWS.
We can build that new world—not through technology and arms, but through community and collaboration. Bottom-up, not top-down.
It’s true: we are the ones we’ve been waiting for. And given the impending climate crisis, there’s no point in waiting anymore.
September 5, 2013
This blog is about more than one thing.
I have a few unrelated things on my mind tonight, so this blog has no particular theme.
As I have written before, I am trying to balance my awareness and worry about all the difficult problems in the world, with what I also know is true – that most people are good, kind, loving, compassionate, and willing to help each other- whether friend or stranger.
So here are some blogs that reflect that spirit. I call them GOOD NEWS Blogs.
Jerry “Peacemaker” calls his blog The Oneness of Humanity. How could I not gravitate to it when I believe that so strongly.
http://onenessofhumanity.wordpress.com/about-2/
The Oneness of Humanity is where everyone, everywhere on Earth is welcome. This site is dedicated solely to creating a better world for all people.
Everyday Gurus is a cool site with a Dream Vision for bloggers and the world. Here the vision:
We are committed to creating peace in our lives, homes, communities, and world. See Bloggers for Peace.
We are a community that is devoted to the pursuit of happiness through lovingkindness, gratitude, compassion, and empathy. See 5 Steps to Peaceful Resolution.
We strive for happiness regardless of material conditions, relationship status, or past history. Click to Re-hydrate Your Spirit.
We share the miracles of everyday life to inspire, instruct, and support others and ourselves. For example, Friends and Enemies.
We try to maintain peace of mind, equanimity, and lovingkindess at all times.
We try to be open to all points of view.
We even try to love our enemies.
Plus, this site introduced me to this really cool idea. I already think of myself as a blogger for peace, but this makes it very specific and intentional.
look what I found!
All of this can be found at http://everydaygurus.com/about/
Here’s a blog I love to follow. I think Sheri manages to capture the beauty, magnificence and potential of all humans in every post. She is overflowing with love for humanity. She calls her blog The Other Side of Ugly and I guess that is a good name because she manages to find beauty everywhere.
Check out this page for a glimpse of what she offers.
http://theothersideofugly.com/image-quotes/
Of course I read other blogs too and my favorites are ones that address my concerns and really make me think. Transition Times is one blog that ALWAYS makes me think and usually aligns with my concerns about the world we live in and the peril to our environment. It is written with passion and an abiding sense that we can and must make a difference.
http://bethechange2012.wordpress.com/about/
A Missed Opportunity – Recently someone re-blogged a post about a woman who puts out food for the homeless and/or hungry in front of her house everyday. I was so moved by this and wanted to re-blog it myself, but I didn’t do it just then. Now I can’t find it. But I just want to make sure to acknowledge this kind woman who is doing something concrete to make the world a better for place.
A Silly, Selfish, Sad Thought - I posted the first chapter of my just-released novel and only one blogger LIKED it. I don’t know if other bloggers really disliked it, or they just didn’t even see it. My higher self tells me that I shouldn’t care, but my all-too-ego filled human self is feeling disappointed.
Syria Please pray for peace in Syria. I hope and pray that the U.S. does not use missiles to try to solve this crisis. The use of chemical weapons is abhorrent and the international community should be unequivocal in condemning it. The U.N. needs to make an all-out effort to bring an end to the civil war in Syria, but the U. S. can only complicate the situation by acting on its own. Missile strikes will result in more death and destruction. Plus, the possibility of unintended, and disastrous, consequences is strong. I think the U.S. and other countries should take the money that they would use on military intervention and devote it to helping the refugees and the countries that are receiving the refugees. Take care of the victims and ease their suffering.
Let’s reject violence as a solution to violence. Haven’t we learned anything from Iraq and Afghanistan? We need a new paradigm. We must work as an international community to establish a culture of peace and nonviolence. It won’t be easy, but it is possible because most of the people in the world want to live in peace. My heart is heavy thinking about the suffering in Syria. Let us not add more suffering in our quest to show that we reject the use of chemical weapons.
Here is a beautiful rendition of the Prayer of St. Francis offered to my readers in hopes of avoiding more violence in Syria.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZI1Gst7pEqc
August 29, 2013
First chapter - Gloria's dilemma is revealed
CHAPTER 1
Gloria Geist awoke from the dream overwhelmed by a feeling of dread. It was that same dream again and it left her feeling vulnerable, afraid and pregnant…very pregnant.
She did not want to have a baby. Not now, not at this stage of her life. She was 46 years old. She had a married daughter who was expecting her first child. She had come to terms with being a grandmother before she was ready. She didn’t think she could come to terms with being a pregnant grandmother. Besides, her husband and daughter would be horrified. This couldn’t be happening, but she was pretty sure it was.
She shivered with apprehension as she finally confronted her nagging fear. She went into the downstairs bathroom, locked the door and peed on the pregnancy-detection stick that she had hidden weeks ago. If her fear was confirmed, and those last few months without periods were because of pregnancy, she would have to tell Jared she was pregnant rather than menopausal.
Feeling faint, she stayed seated on the toilet and put her head down between her knees. She held the stick tightly between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. She was going to give herself a few seconds before she looked at it again. Maybe she had read it wrong the first time. After all, it had been years since she used one of these.
As the blood began to flow back to her brain, she was able to think more clearly. With the fingers on her left hand, she carefully counted back the months to the last time she and Jared made love. Not enough fingers on one hand. This was bad, really bad.
It didn’t add up right. She didn’t see how she could have conceived. Jared had been gone for a month-long business training right about the time she would have had to conceive if her missed periods were an indication of when she got pregnant. This didn’t make sense. She decided to get to her gynecologist as soon as possible. She needed answers...and soon.
Her visit to the doctor left her with more questions, than answers. If her doctor was right about how far along she was, she would have had to conceive while her husband was out of town. This was a total impossibility. She shivered as she contemplated what this could mean.
As she walked to the parking lot, she began to feel off balance and out of it; the same way she felt after taking antihistamines. Her heart beat rapidly as she tried frantically to figure out how she could possibly be only three months pregnant. Maybe it would be better to walk. She headed towards Touro Park. A short walk around the perimeter might clear her head. What she really needed was someone to talk to, but how could she share this news with anyone? It would be devastating if it got back to Jared.
She sat on a bench and started to cry. Before she noticed, a man in a tattered pea coat, mismatched boots and a dirty watch cap sat down beside her.
“Hey, Curly, why the tears? What does a pretty lady like you have to cry about?”
She recognized him as soon as he started to speak. It was the homeless man whom she saw almost every time she went to the park. Most people thought he was crazy. She made a habit of greeting him and treating him with respect, even though Jared thought he might be dangerous. One day a few years ago, when her unruly hair was blowing into her face, he called her Curly. Ever since, that had been his name for her. They had developed a friendship of sorts, based on friendly greetings and her occasional gifts of hot drinks, gloves, socks and much-needed tissues. She figured she was one of the only people who treated him like a normal human being. She went out of her way to be kind to him. He often said to her, “Don’t you worry. I’ve got your back,” even though there was no reason to think she needed someone to have her back.
She wished he would leave her alone now, but knew that he wouldn’t go if he thought she was in trouble. Wiping away the tears on her cheek with the back of her hand, she looked at him intently.
“I know you can keep a secret. Right?”
“Hell yes, Curly. I can keep a secret. No one talks to me, and when I talk to folks they think I’m psycho. I’m your man for a secret. Just call me your secret keeper and I’ll call you my secret weeper.”
She considered his answer. Maybe he is crazy, but no one will believe anything he says about me.
“I’ve got a problem. I’m pregnant and...”
“Unplanned babies. Hmmmmm, there are lots of those in the world, Curly. Look at the stars, probably as many unplanned babies as stars in the skies. Did you know that we are made of stars?”
“Sure. I know...lots of unplanned babies but this one can’t be my husband’s,” she said, tears beginning to flow again.
“Oh, well that’s a different problem… Curly, I hate to tell you but you are in some deep shit. Cheating women, ummm, ummm, ummm...lot of songs been written about them cheating women.”
“I didn’t cheat! I didn’t even have sex. I just…well…I think it happened in a dream,” she said tentatively.
“And people think I’m crazy? That’s a good one, Curly, but even a wacko guy like me can’t believe that one. Unless, you are the Virgin Mary come back to life in the here and now. You aren’t, are you?”
For an instant she considered the story about the Virgin Mary. She had never really believed this story, but for a moment she empathized with the Virgin Mary and what she must have gone through before she told Joseph that she was pregnant. She wondered when people started referring to Jesus’ mother as the Virgin Mary, and that led her to wonder ruefully how people would refer to her. The Cheating Gloria? Maybe the Crazy Gloria?
“Hey, Curly, don’t look so sad. Why don’t you tell me the whole story? I’ll figure out an answer. You know that when I look through a window, I always see things no one else can see,” he said.
“I don’t want to disappoint you, but the only reason I am telling you any of this is because I know no one will believe you if you ever repeat it,” she said.
“Yeh, I get that. That’s for true. Go on, tell me how you got yourself in this fix, Curly.”
“I don’t even know and I sure as hell don’t know which will be harder, telling my daughter that I am pregnant or telling my husband I am pregnant with a baby that is not his.”
“That one is easy, Curly. Telling your husband is gonna be harder for sure. Whoooeeee, that’s gonna be a hurtin’ time.”
“You’re no help. You don’t even believe that I didn’t cheat on Jared. But l didn’t. You know the beginning of menopause does weird things to a woman’s cycle and people have change-of-life babies. My periods have been kind of random lately.”
“Maybe I don’t need to know all the woman stuff details about this,” he interjected.
“But, it’s important. See, if I wasn’t pregnant and my periods were regular, I would be just about due for my third period since Jared’s business trip. According to the doctor, I am fourteen weeks pregnant. That means I got pregnant while he was gone. But that’s impossible.”
“Sure is impossible if he’s the daddy,” he added.
“We didn’t even have sex for months before he left because of his back sprain, and before that I got poison ivy on my legs, and that was gross. So if I figure back to the last time we actually made love, I would have to be at least six months pregnant, and the doctor says I’m definitely not.”
“Ummm, ummm, that’s a mystery.”
“God knows what he thinks about why I kept insisting that I had to be farther along. He probably thinks I’m having an affair. Like that would ever happen.”
“Curly, you got a world of trouble here. I got to think about this before I see an answer. I’m gonna go look through that window there…that one, the third one over…that’s the one. I think you best go home and face the music now. Get it over with.”
As he walked away, Gloria considered her options. Maybe she should stop for a cup of coffee before going home. She just couldn’t walk back into her house, knowing she was pregnant and that she literally did not know how she had conceived. It made no sense to her. Worse than that, it scared the bejeezus out of her. As she ordered a large latte, she pushed the hair off her forehead. Her temples were covered with sweat and her thick, curly hair was beginning to clump in moist bunches.
She had so much to figure out, so many questions she needed to answer. The list made her head throb. She really wanted to call her best friend Sheila, but Sheila was also her sister-in-law. She just couldn’t take the chance that Sheila would tell Jared’s brother. She sipped her latte tentatively, wondering if it was still okay to drink coffee. She hoped it was because giving up coffee would be even harder than giving up alcohol.
Alcohol. Oh my God, how much wine have I had in the last three months? She needed to get a grip. Most of all, she needed to figure out how to break this news to Jared. How could she tell her husband she was pregnant and the baby was not his, but not to be upset? How could she make him understand that she had not had sex with anyone, and yet she was pregnant? It made no sense to her. How could she expect him to believe it?
Would telling Melanie be any easier than telling Jared? Probably not. No matter how the baby was conceived, Melanie would not be happy to hear that she was going to have a sibling the same age as her own child. No point thinking they might grow closer because they were pregnant together. No way. Melanie would be at best incredulous and at worst very hurt and angry.
The more she contemplated telling her husband and daughter, the more convinced she became that there was no upside to telling them. She was in an impossible situation that made absolutely no sense to her. If she was having trouble believing it, how could she expect Jared and Melanie to believe it?
Despite her worries about how Jared and Melanie would react, the question that caused her the most distress would surely be the hardest to answer. Does this pregnancy really have something to do with that dream? Could I possibly be the girl in the dream?
For the past few months, Gloria had been plagued by a recurring nightmare; a nightmare so real and so graphic that she had begun to wonder if she had tapped into a past life. Each time she had the dream she felt more connected to it. But the realization that she was actually pregnant with a baby that could not be Jared’s shocked her into believing that she was truly linked in some mysterious way to the girl in the dream.
Every time she woke up from this nightmare, about a young girl who was raped, she felt an intense desire to help her. But now, with her inexplicable pregnancy confirmed, she felt trapped and afraid.
The dream was always exactly the same. It was a narrative told by a young pregnant girl in a hospital. The girl always began the story by referring to her celestial life, but the story was about her earthly life. The dream always ended with the girl in a hospital bed, being told by a nurse, that she was pregnant. Every time Gloria had this nightmare, she woke up just as the girl was learning that she was pregnant. Each time she woke, she wondered if she felt a stirring inside her womb.
She had this same dream so many times during the past three months that she could recite it from memory. Now, as she sat bent over a half-empty cup of coffee, she reviewed the dream yet again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's the first chapter. Here's a short video that tells you a little more about the dream.
You can enter the Goodreads giveaway to get a free copy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AEW7f...
Chapter 1 – Gloria’s dilemma is revealed
In honor of the long-awaited (at least, by me) official release of my novel, this blog post will be the entire first chapter of the book. I hope you find it interesting. If it makes you want to read the whole book, you can get it from most online retailers, including Amazon.com and Barnes and Nobles. com. It is available as an ebook in a variety of formats, including Nook and Kindle. Of course, you can always have your local book store order it, if you prefer to support the businesses in your local community. Whatever you choose, I do hope you enjoy it.
I would love to hear your reaction.
I CALL MYSELF EARTH GIRL
CHAPTER 1
Gloria Geist awoke from the dream overwhelmed by a feeling of dread. It was that same dream again and it left her feeling vulnerable, afraid and pregnant…very pregnant.
She did not want to have a baby. Not now, not at this stage of her life. She was 46 years old. She had a married daughter who was expecting her first child. She had come to terms with being a grandmother before she was ready. She didn’t think she could come to terms with being a pregnant grandmother. Besides, her husband and daughter would be horrified. This couldn’t be happening, but she was pretty sure it was.
She shivered with apprehension as she finally confronted her nagging fear. She went into the downstairs bathroom, locked the door and peed on the pregnancy-detection stick that she had hidden weeks ago. If her fear was confirmed, and those last few months without periods were because of pregnancy, she would have to tell Jared she was pregnant rather than menopausal.
Feeling faint, she stayed seated on the toilet and put her head down between her knees. She held the stick tightly between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. She was going to give herself a few seconds before she looked at it again. Maybe she had read it wrong the first time. After all, it had been years since she used one of these.
As the blood began to flow back to her brain, she was able to think more clearly. With the fingers on her left hand, she carefully counted back the months to the last time she and Jared made love. Not enough fingers on one hand. This was bad, really bad.
It didn’t add up right. She didn’t see how she could have conceived. Jared had been gone for a month-long business training right about the time she would have had to conceive if her missed periods were an indication of when she got pregnant. This didn’t make sense. She decided to get to her gynecologist as soon as possible. She needed answers…and soon.
Her visit to the doctor left her with more questions, than answers. If her doctor was right about how far along she was, she would have had to conceive while her husband was out of town. This was a total impossibility. She shivered as she contemplated what this could mean.
As she walked to the parking lot, she began to feel off balance and out of it; the same way she felt after taking antihistamines. Her heart beat rapidly as she tried frantically to figure out how she could possibly be only three months pregnant. Maybe it would be better to walk. She headed towards Touro Park. A short walk around the perimeter might clear her head. What she really needed was someone to talk to, but how could she share this news with anyone? It would be devastating if it got back to Jared.
She sat on a bench and started to cry. Before she noticed, a man in a tattered pea coat, mismatched boots and a dirty watch cap sat down beside her.
“Hey, Curly, why the tears? What does a pretty lady like you have to cry about?”
She recognized him as soon as he started to speak. It was the homeless man whom she saw almost every time she went to the park. Most people thought he was crazy. She made a habit of greeting him and treating him with respect, even though Jared thought he might be dangerous. One day a few years ago, when her unruly hair was blowing into her face, he called her Curly. Ever since, that had been his name for her. They had developed a friendship of sorts, based on friendly greetings and her occasional gifts of hot drinks, gloves, socks and much-needed tissues. She figured she was one of the only people who treated him like a normal human being. She went out of her way to be kind to him. He often said to her, “Don’t you worry. I’ve got your back,” even though there was no reason to think she needed someone to have her back.
She wished he would leave her alone now, but knew that he wouldn’t go if he thought she was in trouble. Wiping away the tears on her cheek with the back of her hand, she looked at him intently.
“I know you can keep a secret. Right?”
“Hell yes, Curly. I can keep a secret. No one talks to me, and when I talk to folks they think I’m psycho. I’m your man for a secret. Just call me your secret keeper and I’ll call you my secret weeper.”
She considered his answer. Maybe he is crazy, but no one will believe anything he says about me.
“I’ve got a problem. I’m pregnant and…”
“Unplanned babies. Hmmmmm, there are lots of those in the world, Curly. Look at the stars, probably as many unplanned babies as stars in the skies. Did you know that we are made of stars?”
“Sure. I know…lots of unplanned babies but this one can’t be my husband’s,” she said, tears beginning to flow again.
“Oh, well that’s a different problem… Curly, I hate to tell you but you are in some deep shit. Cheating women, ummm, ummm, ummm…lot of songs been written about them cheating women.”
“I didn’t cheat! I didn’t even have sex. I just…well…I think it happened in a dream,” she said tentatively.
“And people think I’m crazy? That’s a good one, Curly, but even a wacko guy like me can’t believe that one. Unless, you are the Virgin Mary come back to life in the here and now. You aren’t, are you?”
For an instant she considered the story about the Virgin Mary. She had never really believed this story, but for a moment she empathized with the Virgin Mary and what she must have gone through before she told Joseph that she was pregnant. She wondered when people started referring to Jesus’ mother as the Virgin Mary, and that led her to wonder ruefully how people would refer to her. The Cheating Gloria? Maybe the Crazy Gloria?
“Hey, Curly, don’t look so sad. Why don’t you tell me the whole story? I’ll figure out an answer. You know that when I look through a window, I always see things no one else can see,” he said.
“I don’t want to disappoint you, but the only reason I am telling you any of this is because I know no one will believe you if you ever repeat it,” she said.
“Yeh, I get that. That’s for true. Go on, tell me how you got yourself in this fix, Curly.”
“I don’t even know and I sure as hell don’t know which will be harder, telling my daughter that I am pregnant or telling my husband I am pregnant with a baby that is not his.”
“That one is easy, Curly. Telling your husband is gonna be harder for sure. Whoooeeee, that’s gonna be a hurtin’ time.”
“You’re no help. You don’t even believe that I didn’t cheat on Jared. But l didn’t. You know the beginning of menopause does weird things to a woman’s cycle and people have change-of-life babies. My periods have been kind of random lately.”
“Maybe I don’t need to know all the woman stuff details about this,” he interjected.
“But, it’s important. See, if I wasn’t pregnant and my periods were regular, I would be just about due for my third period since Jared’s business trip. According to the doctor, I am fourteen weeks pregnant. That means I got pregnant while he was gone. But that’s impossible.”
“Sure is impossible if he’s the daddy,” he added.
“We didn’t even have sex for months before he left because of his back sprain, and before that I got poison ivy on my legs, and that was gross. So if I figure back to the last time we actually made love, I would have to be at least six months pregnant, and the doctor says I’m definitely not.”
“Ummm, ummm, that’s a mystery.”
“God knows what he thinks about why I kept insisting that I had to be farther along. He probably thinks I’m having an affair. Like that would ever happen.”
“Curly, you got a world of trouble here. I got to think about this before I see an answer. I’m gonna go look through that window there…that one, the third one over…that’s the one. I think you best go home and face the music now. Get it over with.”
As he walked away, Gloria considered her options. Maybe she should stop for a cup of coffee before going home. She just couldn’t walk back into her house, knowing she was pregnant and that she literally did not know how she had conceived. It made no sense to her. Worse than that, it scared the bejeezus out of her. As she ordered a large latte, she pushed the hair off her forehead. Her temples were covered with sweat and her thick, curly hair was beginning to clump in moist bunches.
She had so much to figure out, so many questions she needed to answer. The list made her head throb. She really wanted to call her best friend Sheila, but Sheila was also her sister-in-law. She just couldn’t take the chance that Sheila would tell Jared’s brother. She sipped her latte tentatively, wondering if it was still okay to drink coffee. She hoped it was because giving up coffee would be even harder than giving up alcohol.
Alcohol. Oh my God, how much wine have I had in the last three months? She needed to get a grip. Most of all, she needed to figure out how to break this news to Jared. How could she tell her husband she was pregnant and the baby was not his, but not to be upset? How could she make him understand that she had not had sex with anyone, and yet she was pregnant? It made no sense to her. How could she expect him to believe it?
Would telling Melanie be any easier than telling Jared? Probably not. No matter how the baby was conceived, Melanie would not be happy to hear that she was going to have a sibling the same age as her own child. No point thinking they might grow closer because they were pregnant together. No way. Melanie would be at best incredulous and at worst very hurt and angry.
The more she contemplated telling her husband and daughter, the more convinced she became that there was no upside to telling them. She was in an impossible situation that made absolutely no sense to her. If she was having trouble believing it, how could she expect Jared and Melanie to believe it?
Despite her worries about how Jared and Melanie would react, the question that caused her the most distress would surely be the hardest to answer. Does this pregnancy really have something to do with that dream? Could I possibly be the girl in the dream?
For the past few months, Gloria had been plagued by a recurring nightmare; a nightmare so real and so graphic that she had begun to wonder if she had tapped into a past life. Each time she had the dream she felt more connected to it. But the realization that she was actually pregnant with a baby that could not be Jared’s shocked her into believing that she was truly linked in some mysterious way to the girl in the dream.
Every time she woke up from this nightmare, about a young girl who was raped, she felt an intense desire to help her. But now, with her inexplicable pregnancy confirmed, she felt trapped and afraid.
The dream was always exactly the same. It was a narrative told by a young pregnant girl in a hospital. The girl always began the story by referring to her celestial life, but the story was about her earthly life. The dream always ended with the girl in a hospital bed, being told by a nurse, that she was pregnant. Every time Gloria had this nightmare, she woke up just as the girl was learning that she was pregnant. Each time she woke, she wondered if she felt a stirring inside her womb.
She had this same dream so many times during the past three months that she could recite it from memory. Now, as she sat bent over a half-empty cup of coffee, she reviewed the dream yet again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That’s the first chapter. Here’s a short video that tells you a little more about the dream.
