 The Shaffer Journal
Volume 10 † Issue 11 † November 2004
[Internet Stuff] [Hockey Puck] [Twins of the Dark Star]
[Poetry Corner] [The Dull Stuff] [Guest Articles] [In The Keys]
Kitty Talk
These journals are dedicated to Kitty GreyCat's spirit. She is at RainBow Bridge now along with her human friends, Leo and Doris. We all loved you, Kitty! Click the cat graphic to visit her Memorial page. Kitty born June 6, 1982. Died July 9, 1997. Please use our email form linked below to make suggestions or offer praise. >^..^<  Ebony: I am the Great Ebonator and welcome to our magazine once again. Meow. That bad old Abby, my sister, always trying to give me a bath. I growl, hiss, because Abby's baths always seem to end up with meow, chase, and fighting. Ab, why you not leaf me alone? >^..^<
Abby: Eb, you are a very dirty cat and need plenty baths. And who is going to chase you, if I not do it? You complain about all the wrong stuff. I complain about human bean putting fleas stuff on me. If that is not bad enough, he come back wanting to put more on me. I run very fast and hide in the main bathroom cabinet among the clean towels and washcloths. Bean find me anyway. >^..^<
Ebony: Ab, flea stuff don't bother me too much, as long as there is not too much put on me. It smells. I got something better to complain about. I had to chase that big dog puppy, Trinity, off the outback cement slab. The outback is a great place to scratch trees, chase lizards, watching human beans, and looking at raccoons. >^..^<
Abby: Well, my biggest complaint is that you and I didn't do anything interesting on the four day of October meow. Why, every day should be interesting and full of meows with some hissing and chasing too. >^..^<
Ebony: I like to chase lizards. >^..^<
Abby: Meow, I like to chase other cats what think they can invade my territory. >^..^<
Ebony: Abby, with all that chasing, you and I have to catch up on catnaps and catnip. We sleep with human bean too. I sleep up near her furry head, while you sleep at his feet. We could never sleep together. >^..^<
Abby: Ebony, I try to sleep with you, but you growl and run away. >^..^<
Ebony: I don't like you. >^..^<
Abby: You full of meows! I like to watch that bird what named Callie. It inside a cage to keep me out I meow. The human beans calling that bird El Destructo Diablo Magnus, because it destroys plants and stuff. >^..^<
Ebony: I sleep on other human beans bed, while you lusting after that bird. I think you are catnip crazed. >^..^<
Abby: O, you crazy on catnip yourself. You and I have to admit that we try to manipulate the human beans to get attention and extra love. Us cats are the most important things on earth. Meow, see you all next month. >^..^<
Internet Stuff
Here are the latest DVD films from http://www.NetFlix.com: The Alamo was a very good action movie and almost historically accurate. Cyborg 2 took three DVDs before a good one arrived. The movie itself was about love between a cyborg and a real human. The Passion of the Christ was intense but very effective. I liked the fact that the language used was the one close to the real languages of the time: Latin and Hebrew. Home on the Range is about brave cows saving the day and the ranch, good fun movie. Garfield: The Movie is all about the cat [cgi] and Odie, the real-life dog. The film was quite amusing and entertaining. Van Helsing combines Dracula, Frankenstein, and a werewolf to make a great movie. The Day After Tomorrow is a look at what might happen if our environment continues to be polluted. Dawn of the Dead is a remake of the 1979 movie and does a much better job. Fahrenheit 911 was an entertaining movie, but is it reflective of fact? I don't know. Interesting websites we visited recently: We used http://Amazon.com to order a used copy of Prince's new CD, Musicology. The service worked and was quite satisfactory. http://OutPersonals.com is a match-making service for Gays. Our laptop went through some problems that http://support.dell.com solved every time. We had a bad DVD drive, removable hard drive, and a power adapter all go bad at different times. Dell fixed every one in a timely and professional manner. We also downloaded Windows XP SP2 and had no problems.
In The Keys
I think that the most important thing this month is cookies. Wayne, a fellow bridge tender, and I shared some chunky chocolate chip cookies. We probably put on some unneeded pounds too. My boat wouldn't go into gear. I couldn't get my exercise by snorkeling to lose some of those pounds. Phil, the boat guy, finally fixed the boat by replacing the remote control and gear cables. In the meantime, we had broke a borrowed boat trailer. It is a good thing for cookies, because now the boat is eating up money I don't have. Break out another thousand, you know. Miscellany: I am not sure that this paragraph is too important or interesting, but I will do it anyway. Pat the contractor man build a nice drainage pit for a washer. It works too. We all did a lot of clean up and yard work and then arranged a nice lounge area out back of our mobile home, complete with Tiki torches, skitter pots, and a fire-burning thing. Why are limes good in a Corona? Actually, a lime is good in any beer, but why? I power washed the mobile home, and it looks brand new. Yes, lots of dirt and mold. I am so tired of Kerry, Bush, Edwards, and even Cheney. Back to our lounge area: we have security lights from Home Depot. They work too. In my bedroom, I have a refrigerator and a microwave. I live the high life, don't you know. I made chili and then later chicken stew. The old timers at the bridge liked my cooking. Finally, a beer at the American Legion! Finally: Did you know that Kansas's state bird is the Western Meadowlark? The flower is the Wild Native Sunflower. The tree is the Cottonwood. The capital is Topeka. Statehood was granted January 29, 1861. Lastly, the Lemonade Stand Art Studio features various artists and their art. This Key West studio is located at 227 Petronia Street. They are open daily. Their telephone number is 305-295-6873. Call for more details. Their email address is as follows: lemonadestand@aol.com. Poetry Corner
"Blood Red Moon"
November 2, 2004
Upon the cold
Dark sky clear
Stars starkly lit
A lunar eclipse
Appearing quietly
And without fear
Slowly, inching
Along the blood
Red moon grows
Darkly and fully
Creatures standing
Eyes afire
The blood red moon
Reflecting in the
Pools of deep
Firelight, souls
Opening through
The eyes unblinking
The full blood
Red moon rising
Toward a night
Ancient and foreboding
A ring of fire
Forming around
The blood red moon
And then it is over
And creatures unfreeze
To continue the hunting © 2004 L. E. Shaffer Hockey Puck
The NHL is probably a total loss. Where am I going to get my hockey fix this season? At least Dale Jr. won Talladega. The NASCAR standings before the last three races has two of my favorite drivers in the top ten. The Boston Red Sox are no longer cursed. But the Miami Dolphins are still cursed even if they did win one game out of the last seven. I look forward to the Miami Heat and the indomitable Shaq. Guest Articles
Stuff not written by us. As always everything is copyright of the author. From: Claudia D. Dikinis
To: Claudia D. Dikinis
Sent: Tuesday, October 19, 2004 2:11 PM
Subject: Safe Treats and Costumes for Dogs and Cats
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6227692/
Safe Treats for dogs and cats at Halloween and other holidays.
http://www.threedog.com/
Makes 14 bewitching treats – perfect for gobblin’
These frightfully good munchies are guaranteed to give your pup a boo-st!
Ingredients:
2½ cups water
½ cup canned pumpkin
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 egg
4 cups whole wheat flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ cup whole oats
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a bowl, mix water, pumpkin, vanilla and egg thoroughly. Combine flour, baking powder and cinnamon in a separate bowl, stirring well. Add wet ingredients to dry and mix well, making sure no dry mixture is left. Spray a muffin tin with non-stick vegetable spray and spoon batter in, filling each cup completely. Sprinkle top of each muffin with oats and bake for approx. 1 hour or until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the muffin comes out clean. Cool completely and store in a sealed container.
Recipe taken from The Three Dog Bakery Cookbook, written by Dan Dye & Mark Beckloff. ©2001, Andrews & McMeel Publishing. Available at www.threedog.com or fine bookstores everywhere.
Claudia D. Dikinis
http://starcats.com >^..^<
Political & Personal Astrology for a New Millennium
Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change.
Illegitimus non carborundum.
"A fascist is one whose lust for money or power is combined with such an intensity of intolerance toward those of other races, parties, classes, religions, cultures, regions or nations as to make him ruthless in his use of deceit or violence to attain his ends." Henry A. Wallace, Fmr. Vice-President to FDR
© 2004 Claudia D. Dikinis and assorted websites and authors listed above Promo Senaka La Palme
http://www.slapalmedesigns.com
http://www.slapalmedesigns.com/rdsis/ - I don't know if you want to show this one or
not, it might be too dark.
SLD Internet Services
http://www.sldwebhost.com
web hosting & development services.
© 2004 Senaka La Palme Grandma and the Roosians Once upon a time, when the world was very different from the way it is today, long before my mother was so much as a glimmer in my grandmother’s eye, the Piritzky family lived the privileged life of Hungarian lesser nobility. I say privileged with qualifications: the life of the lesser nobility of Europe, like that of all of the classes, was set in stone. The peasants tended the fields and estates of the nobility. Some, to be sure, had villages of their own on Hungary’s grassy plains where they raised the horses that were the descents of those brought by Attila the Hun. These were far more fortunate than peasants in other countries, and their horses highly sought-after. But most peasants were resigned to a life of servitude, with no hope of ever owning land of their own. The Jews ran the shops and the banks. Neither Hungarian peasant nor noble could own a business. The Gypsies, somewhat better received in Hungary than in many other European countries, often inter-married with the Magyars, peasant and noble alike. They had done so for generations. It was unusual for the Rom—the name the gypsies give themselves—to marry outside of their own people but there was, and is, nothing “usual” about the Hungarian people. So, with their gypsy blood, many peasant women told fortunes with tarot cards for coin, and many of the lesser nobility did the same, but for entertainment. The nobility, no matter how poor, could only make money by running the family estate or by entering the army. The women, of course, could earn no money of their own at all. There were also those among the mixed-blood peasants who became performers, acrobats who showed no fear. My grandmother, Anna, with the exceptional dark-eyed blond haired beauty of her mixed Magyar/Rom blood, caught the heart of a young Hungarian noble of no title and small fortune. Sandor’s (pronounced Shandoor) family had no estate, and to make matters worse, had a Polish last name. Whether the name had anything to do with the family fortunes is unknown—Hungarians are a secretive lot. Sandor and Anna were married in Budapest. Sandor entered the army as an officer, and quickly made his way to the position of general. Anna bore him two daughters. I knew them as Claire and Peggy. I never knew their Hungarian names. The girls were brought up to marry well. They would have fine homes and servants, as their own parents did. But they were born at an infortuitous time. The Austrian branch of the Hapsburgh Empire controlled Hungary, and was allied with Germany. The Hungarians disliked their Austrian overlords, but had no choice but to bow to them. Hungary, like many other countries, was not strong enough to escape the greedy reach of the Hapsburghs. Transylvania kept alive Hungarian traditions the Hapsburghs did not allow. Yet, despite the Hapsburghs, Hungarians of all classes led a settled life that, it seemed, would never change. Then World War I came. The Hungarians had no choice but to fight with their hated Austrian overlords in concert with Germany. Grandfather went to fight in the trenches, while Grandmother took their daughters to live on a small farm near the Hungarian/Czechoslovakian border. I imagine a family servant or two went with them, but again I am unsure because of the family secrecy. At the end of the War the Hapsburghs abdicated and the Austro-Hungarian Empire was split among the Allies. Borders were redrawn. The part of Hungary in which Grandma and Grandpa lived became part of Czechoslovakia, and was put under Russian rule. Grandpa had family who had already fled Hungary—some to Holland, some to America. Grandpa and Grandma made plans to flee themselves, and not simply for the insult of being considered Czechoslovakian. For Communism had come to Eastern Europe with the end of the War. The class system was destroyed, the lands of the nobility split among the peasantry. To make matters worse, the Russian soldiers had orders to find and kill all officers who had fought for the Germans. Needless to say, this order included Grandpa. So plans were made to flee with their children to Holland, and thence to America. The plans were interrupted one day, however, when two “Roosian” soldiers arrived at the door. Two fully armed but war-weary Russian soldiers who no doubt supplemented their meager pay with loot. Perhaps other such visits had had gone well for the soldiers, but they never counted on Grandma. As soon as the soldiers were spied on the road to the house, Grandma had Grandpa hide in the basement. When the soldiers knocked at the door they were welcomed by 5” 2” and 130 pounds of female fury, brandishing a very sharp axe. Screaming at them in Hungarian, Grandma charged the soldiers. The soldiers wisely turned tail and ran as fast as humanly possible. There is no doubt in my mind that, had the soldiers dared to face Grandma, they would have left with fewer limbs, if they left at all. I can imagine the look on my grandmother’s face as she faced the soldiers. I have seen that look on my mother, my sister, and even on my own face: a look of utter and undeniable female outrage that easily can make the strongest man tremble in his shoes, and cause those with hearts less stout to grovel. Had that look and the fury behind it been the only thing Grandma left me, it would have been enough. That look, with the help of a small hunting knife, chased a would-be rapist from my door when I was seventeen. That look has caused many a male co-worker to mutter: “I’m glad she’s not mad at me”! That look has allowed three generations of Piritzky woman to be masters at the fine art of returning things to stores that no store in their right mind would accept as a return. Not as romantic as chasing away soldiers, but far more useful these days. But that is another several stories. As for my grandparents, Grandpa fled to Holland that very night. Grandma stayed behind, sold the house, packed up their belongings and their two young daughters, and followed a few weeks later. From Holland they booked passage to America—first class, according to family legend. Grandpa told stories of America to his daughters on the journey...but that, too, is another story. © 2004 Kim Young Group Novel
As an experiment and for fun, we are writing a group novel at our Area 52 forum. The first section is contained in the June 2004 magazine edition. The second section is contained in the July 2004 magazine edition. The third section is contained in the August 2004 magazine edition. The fourth section is contained in the September 2004 magazine edition. The fifth section is contained in the October 2004 magazine edition. The entire group novel is in a MS Word format. The sixth section is as follows: Walking into the ornate and high-arched doorway I pause and listen. I stand in the entry to the Great Room and lovingly look at all of its furnishings. They have been well-used yet they do not look worn at all. It is funny how one can come home and look around and view their surroundings as if with another’s eyes. And at the same time sense the closeness and feel safe.
“Anothers eyes,” I thought and slowly recognized the value of those words. Yes, that is what I am doing for I “am” another. How strange it was to stand here knowing that I was Zybai, son of Zerkai and Ziha, yet I was also the Kla’abai. I have two different roads ahead of me. No, I have fourteen different roads ahead of me.
Zybai closed his eyes as he was starting to get a headache. How confusing all of this is he thought to himself.
Just then Zeena sleepily walked into the room murmuring, “Zybai . . . when did you get here?” Walking to the long lounge she threw herself upon it with an audible crash. Zeena had landed on a small pile of newly fired pottery of her mothers. “Uh oh,” muttered Zeena.
Zybai had to stifle his urge to laugh at his sister. All through their childhood Zeena had been the clumsy one . . . the one who always seemed to not only find accidents but make them.
“Zeena how good it is to see you again,” announced Zybai. “I mean, it is very good to see you again,” “uh . . . Zeena I have really missed being home and here with my favorite sister again,” Zybai said in a low voice. Zybai was still unsure of how he should be speaking, even to his immediate family.
“I have so much to tell you,” he raced on with his words now.
“Like what,” Zeena queried?
“I have many things, like the strange visions I have been having,” “The even stranger things that I have found,” And strangest of all are the new rules that I have been told to follow”, Zybai said with a pout.
“Whose rules and what kind of rules are you talking about,” Zeena demanded to know. “You are always complaining and you have since you were a child and you are still acting like a child, brother,” Zeena angrily replied.
“Ever since you started having your visions you have changed and you are no longer the brother I once knew,” Zeena said in a sad voice.
Snuffling, Zeena started to cry. “Oh what have I done now,” Zybai whispered to himself. I come home needing to see my sister (although I do not know why) and she fusses and then starts crying. Can I do nothing right in the eyes of my family any longer?
Zybai’s parents both entered the room with astonished expressions on the faces. Their faces showed both astonishment and questioning at the same time.
“Here, here,” Zerkai coughed. He fastened the closures on his robe and pulled it tightly to himself as this was not quite Freanasab and the mornings were still quite damp and cold.* His wife Ziha hurriedly scurried to the opposite end of the lounge where Zeena now sat and quickly covered herself with a throw constructed of many patches of a Blipon’s skin. These patches were all various shaded of yellowish green to deep brownish green. These Blipon throws had been used by Anaraian’s for generations, for they were as long lasting as they were practical.
“So why are my two favorite children quarrelling so early this morn,” Zerkai asked in his most diplomatic tone? Zerkai paced back and forth the length of the long Great Room. Eyeing both Zybai and Zeena in an almost accusatory manner, he remarked, “This is no way for the children of the Zerkai, son of Zhibai I to behave and I do not suppose that either of you can justify your actions”?
Shuffling his feet Zybai quietly shook his head back and forth from right to left. Still sitting stiff and erect, Zeena shook here head up and down.
Zerkai sighed and sat down beside his wife. “I am waiting,” he patiently said.
*From Ariel’s list of Anaraian seasons (posted 6-25-04):
Freanasab-start of 1st dry season (Solistal), is a time of growth for the young Anarians. Other months in this season are Muiansab, Learansab, and Braetnasab. From the middle of Muiansab through the middle of Learansab the suns remain in the sky all 26 hours of the day. The hunter class takes advantage of the hot dry weather, which drives the Blipons (similar to kangaroos) and Forn (similar to deer, wildebeest, etc.) from the drying forest to the streams feeding the silver lakes. These animals are also a main food staple. The 1st week of Learansab is a week of celebration for all classes (sort of like Midsummer). The end of Breatnasab is also a time of celebration: this is when the mating begins.
© 2004 L. E. Shaffer, Kim Young, Linda Hall Twins of the Dark Star
Book One Tears from Ao and three poetry collections, Pages of Life, Visions of Life, and Moments of Life are available electronically at http://RunesofAo.com/aobp/. The Runes of Ao project, Book Two The Mountains of Ao novel currently in final edit, Book Three Twins of the Dark Star novel in early stages, and The Book of Kalian Mysticism poetry collection are works in progress. Also a collaboration with K. Young on a novella called Dragon Embers is now published on the fan site known as Runes of Ao.com. The Dull Stuff
All opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect those of this magazine, company, or its advertisers. Inputs, email, suggestions, and letters to this journal are subject to approval by Ebony and Abby. Submittals may be edited for content and length and become the creative property for the one-time nonexclusive publication of: Shaffer Novels/Poetry Company
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www.RunesofAo.com/abby/ Publication date: October 28, 2004
Author: L. E. Shaffer
Company: Shaffer Novels/Poetry Company &
Shaffer Internet Publishing Company
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