 The Shaffer Journal
Volume 10 † Issue 12 † December 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: Us cats have major complaints this month. These human beans that share our royal lives are always moving stuff around. Us cats are not used to that. When we see something not where it supposed to be, we have to sneak up on it slowly like. Then we have to paw tap on it to see if it is dangerous. You never know what stuff is until it is paw tapped some. >^..^<
Abby: Eb, you meow a lot. I usually meowing all the time. At least until the human beans are all running around screaming why me, Abby, won't ever turn off her meowing. I do have to admit that human beans come outside and rescued me from that white picket fence on the porch. Why, it reached out and grabbed me, entangling me in its evil grasp. I was a goner until a human bean came and untangled me. I showed my appreciation for them by meowing for over an hour straight about how grateful I was. >^..^<
Ebony: Ab, you flea bag, them beans are driven crazy by your meows. At least I like the outside so much that nothing, I mean, nothing grabs at me or tangles me or anything like that. I meow. Like the outside likes me. When I get tired after being outside, I take catnaps in the grocery sack or the laundry basket. I even found a nice catnapping place by the clothes drawers on the carpet in front of it. I can catnap there for a long time. >^..^<
Abby: Well, my favorite catnapping place is in the plastic chair where my kitten blanket is. Sometimes I even sleep with the human bean, sucking up all his extra heat, making him cold. I even once slept on CD case. >^..^<
Ebony: I like it when you help human bean read the newspapers. You catnap on the papers, helping bean. >^..^<
Abby: Meow, I don't like it when you meow so loud. Loud voices make me hide under the bed and stuff. >^..^<
Ebony: Abby, loud stuff is not as scary as big machines chewing on our street. I even hide then. I would really prefer scratches on my ears and nice long chin rubs. That would make me purr and purr and purr more. >^..^<
Abby: Ebony, I must tell you some sad news that will stop all that incessant purring. Human bean's niece had a frog. That frog escaped twice. Once we even got to chase and paw on it some. But that frog died. >^..^<
Ebony: I don't want to hear about any frog death. I only want to hear good stuff like Christmas stuff. >^..^<
Abby: You full of stuff, all right. We have a great life, sleeping with the human bean, chasing lizards, raccoons, doves, and even a scorpion that human bean got all upset about. We even have fun out back of the trailer. >^..^<
Ebony: I slept through all of your constant meowing. What were you meowing about any meow? Meow? >^..^<
Abby: O, you BAD cat! At least I know how to use the cat flap gate door thing. You are afraid to use the cat door. You can't push it open with your boney head. I can. You are stuck in the bedroom all the time. hehe... That is the best Christmas gift I ever get. No Ebony to ruin the cat holidays and scare away the reindeer, the birds, the mice, and even some of those juicy, hot lizards. I know where Ebony is all the time so I chase here some too. Well, meow, already, all righty there and back. This month's edition is over and done with. Come back soon. >^..^<
Internet Stuff
Here are the latest DVD films from http://www.NetFlix.com: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is another fine movie following the Potter series of books. The film wasn't quite up to the first two, but still good all the same. The Saddest Music in the World is an attempt at an old style movie, but it is more like the saddest film in the world. Elf was funny in a big Christmas elf sort of way, although the big elf is really human. The Blind Swordsman: Zatoichi is a decent Japanese action movie with a good plot. Before Sunset is a romance film with a surprise ending that one should have seen coming. Shrek 2 was as good as the first movie, but sometimes seemed to try too hard. Jeepers Creepers is a good horror movie with a twisted ending. That's it for the movies this month. Interesting websites we visited recently: http://www.slapalmedesigns.com is Senaka's forum. http://www.slapalmedesigns.com/rdsis/ is Senaka's dark website. SLD Internet Services can be found at http://www.sldwebhost.com for web hosting & development services. TeAnne's Web Sales are here at http://e-wire.net.au/~eb_movin/, and ArtByUs is located here at http://www.artbyus.com/auctions.php?a=6&b=42. There is a new photo at our photo gallery. There is also a new dragon at Ebony's dragon gallery web page. There is brand new Land Trust news at http://MKCLT.org/news_keynoter.htm. That's all the web links for this month. Send us some more soon, huh?
In The Keys
My brother and I had a lot of fun, making a wireless access point work. The first unit, a LinkSys one, just wasn't up to our standards. It was returned to Office Depot for a D-Link unit. That one took some work, but we finally made the unit work. We learned a lot more about wireless networking too. Our wireless range is now extended. Of course, the morale of this story is that just about any activity shared with your brother will be most fun. Miscellany: O, why, do we have to do this paragraph? People like all this miscellaneous crap though. O, well, here goes: Bush was reelected and the electoral college sucks. At the last Land Trust meeting we learned that the 91st Street project is going to be a great success. At Boot Key Harbor, there were playing porpoises and one patrolling manatee. I attended the dedication of the Rotary Park at 75th Street. That was fun. High winds, crummy weather kept me from boating. That was not fun. I forgot my cell phone at K-Mart. Luckily, they kept it there for me to retrieve later. My niece, Toni, said that there should be no Christmas tree put up before Thanksgiving. Well, that tasked me. I got my eighteen inch Christmas tree out and plugged it in. Take that! Finally: Did you know that Kentucky's state bird is the Cardinal? The flower is the Goldenrod. The tree is the Tulip Poplar. The capital is Frankfort. Statehood was granted June 1, 1792. Lastly, the Harrison Gallery features Ben and Helen Harrison and their art, along with many other talented artists. This Key West gallery is located at 825 White Street. They are open daily noon - 5 PM. Their telephone number is 305-294-0609. Call for more details. Their web address is as follows: http://www.harrison-gallery.com. Poetry Corner
"Ultimate Death"
November 29, 2004
A light flickers
On a dark lake
Fog rises lazily
In a sultry attempt
At mystery and deception
Foot steps fade away slowly
As long wings stretch
And move in the shadows
Dark clouds uncover
A bright red moon
And a screeching howl
Pierces the leaden night
A dark shape
Blocks the moon
And the hunt
Has just begun
Wind sweeps
The plains
And a rush of
Humid air hides
The hideous screams
Of bloody death
The ultimate
Darkness and evil
Silence closes in
On the deepening
Fog full of dread
Closing the hunt © 2004 L. E. Shaffer Hockey Puck
The NHL is still locked out. What a bore! Busch finished high enough in an exciting Homestead NASCAR race to win the NEXTEL Cup Championship. Dale Jr. and Jeff finished in the top five. The NFL Dolphins have won two games this year, and that is a surprise. The NBA Miami Heat have a Shaq and a Wade and keep winning. Nothing to report on the MLB and the WTA. Tiger is doing well recently. Let's hope he continues to do well. Guest Articles
Stuff not written by us. As always everything is copyright of the author. Jaci Rae
I hope that everyone had a safe and happy Halloween! So much has happened and is happening, that it's hard to keep up with it all.
Something fun, but a mistake....VHI put me on their site, but with my old name, check it out:
VH1.com : Tonya Rae: Artist Main
VH1.com presents complete artist information on Tonya Rae, including news, bio, message boards, song clips and more. Artist Main: Tonya Rae. TV Appearances. ...
www.vh1.com/artists/az/rae_tonya/artist.jhtml -- Similar pages
I have asked them to take it down and if they want to post something later, they can do it under Jaci Rae. As you know, I had to change my name a few years ago, and it's been really hard for my fans.
I am just picking up speed again under my new name Jaci Rae in honor of my sister when I had to change. I mean there are over 1000 websites that have Tonya Rae on them and only 300 or so with Jaci Rae, so that is good that it is starting to pick up in that area as well.
Second, it looks like the Borders tour won't happen until after January. Why? Well we were set up, but then the man who set us up was fired. He didn't tell the new gal who took over his job and then everything was messed up. Needless to say, the local Borders, who was counting on me was upset, but they were told they weren't going to have anyone until after the holidays because of all Borders developments. But that is okay.
My CD is now at #42 on the national charts and more and more stores (I should say chains) have picked it up. 250 chains and counting (not sure how many stores each chain has).
Well, I have to go, so this is just a short note...I hope everyone is doing well! Wishing everyone a happy holiday season!
All else is going really awesome! Blessings and hugs. Jaci © 2004 Jaci Rae 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 sixth section is contained in the November 2004 magazine edition. The entire group novel is in a MS Word format. The seventh section is as follows: Zeena's complaint that Zybai was acting weird and being a brat as usual was met with hard stares, especially considering she was sitting on a lounge full of Ziha's broken pottery. Zybai fared no better: neither Ziha nor Zerkai believed that he had come home because he actually wanted to talk to Zeena. Their lifetime of rivalry, which had not improved with the discovery of Zybai's talents, spoke for itself—at least in their parent’s eyes. But both Zerkai and Ziha agreed that their two children should spend more time together…remaking the pottery that had been broken.
“But Zeena broke it, not me!” Zybai complained, and immediately regretted it. He had not meant to sound so childish. Attempting to salvage the situation, he added, with as much dignity as he could muster: “Besides, potting is for females!” The moment the words left his lips Zybai knew he had simply made things worse. His mother’s wide bright eyes narrowed, scornful and calculating. Meesa, one of the family’s atallats,** had the misfortune to wander, yawning, into the room and was immediately dispatched to Krilat to explain that Zybai would be busy make pots for a few days. Then Ziha sent her children off to the potting shed. “And mind you take the shards so you can match the patterns and colors,” Ziha told them.
They had barely started taking the carefully wrapped clay blocks down from the shelves when Meesa poked his head into the shed. “Councilor Krilat told me he is more than amenable to you missing your studies for a few days while you make pots,” the old atallat told Zybai. “He says it will do you good, in more ways than one.” Meesa looked a bit confused at the last statement but brightened quickly and wandered off saying: “Amenable…a-MEN-able,” clearly proud that he had learned a new word.
Zybai sighed, knowing full well that Krilat saw the punishment his mother had meted out as a form of character building. Krilat was always complaining that Zybai lacked character. “What do I need character for when my destiny is within the 14 paths?” Zybai grumbled to himself.
I watch helplessly as yet another pot spins into a soggy mess on the wheel. It is with envy and no small amazement I gaze at the neat row of newly turned pots Zeena has already produced, sitting in the sun to dry. Potting, like weaving and needlecraft, is considered more of an art form among the Anaraians upper class. Potters of the lower class turn out the more utilitarian, and more often broken, items: cooking pots, wine jugs, the tall urns that hold oil and water, in great quantities. But the pieces women like my mother form, while made to be used, are also made to be admired and treasured. I find myself with an unexpected respect for my sister. It never occurred to me that she could do anything at all, yet here she was creating vases and bowls of beautiful form as easily as one might pick a Pinuta.
I toy with the idea of the revenge I had been planning on my way home. A clod of wet clay thrown in Zeena’s face would do nicely. But no, that is not what I want, not even for her getting us into this mess. The moment I walked though the high arches of home and saw Zeena I knew I had really come to talk to her brother to sister, adult to adult. Well, almost adults.
Swallowing my remaining pride, I ask her to help me, to no avail. The art is not one that can be learned so quickly. Smugly Zeena puts me to blocking clay to replace the blocks we had used. Like a sai-atall I begin to grumble, and bite my tongue. I will not act like a child!
Blocking clay isn’t, I find, the most fun occupation in the world. Pick up the gooey mess of clay and slap it down on the plaster slab. Pick it up and slap it down again. And again and again until the water is absorbed into the plaster and the clay forms a neat block, ready to be wrapped for storage or placed on the wheel. I fall into the rhythm of it: lift and slap, lift and slap, falling into time with my sister’s humming and kick-spinning the wheel.
It feels right, somehow, natural yet almost dreamy. My muscles ache pleasantly. I pause after wrapping a block and watch Zeena spin a vase, the delicate shape springing from her hands as if by magic. “You make beautiful pots, Zeena,” I tell her. “Mother herself couldn’t do better.” She looks up angrily; sure I am teasing, then blushes when she realizes I am sincere. The smug smile returns to her face and she hums louder as she tends to her vase. “Thank you,” she whispers after a moment.
The next day we smooth the now-dried pots and paint on the glazes. I am pleased I show some small talent in painting the designs. I had never thought about trying my hands at any of the arts, the sculpting or carving or cabinetry that is the males’ domain. I had always been too busy studying or, as Krilat would say, dreaming. We reminisce, sitting there side by side, laugh about old times, events we remember, silly things we did. But as Mu’a falls low, we fall into silence. Suddenly Zeena asks: “What is it like, being the Kla’abai?” She turns and looks at me, all seriousness.
“It’s…exhilarating, amazing, scary…”
“So you like being famous.” Her eyes sparkle with amusement.
“Nooo, you know I always hated all that ceremony stuff! And the title is useless! I get no respect!”
Zeena laughs out loud, and I smile myself and shake my head. “It’s not about “being the Kla-abai.” I make quote signs with my mid-hands. “It’s the paths, and this puzzle I am destined to put together, and this…something, I am destined to do…”
“So you are destined? You truly believe that?”
For the first time, I realize I truly do. “Without question,” I reply. “And every day there is something new to learn, some little piece of the puzzle. Well, almost every day.” I look down at the bowl I’m smoothing.
“Are you not learning something new now?”
I look at Zeena, stunned, and my thoughts race.
The third day we load the pots into the kiln and I light the wood underneath. “Why do they have to be fired, anyway?” I ask, now genuinely interested in this strange new experience.
“So they get hard, silly,” Zeena laughs. “So they can be used for whatever purpose they were…destined.” She smiles mischievously. “A chemical reaction occurs when the heat penetrates the pots, hardening the clay and setting and bringing out the colors of the glaze.”
I didn’t even know that my sister knew what a chemical reaction was, but her words make my thoughts race again. Something went wrong when I entered the paths with the mirrored stone I found on the plains. I opened a gateway, but couldn’t enter. I wasn’t ready. I knew that then, and know it now. Perhaps I need to be “fired,” in some way, so that I will be ready, so I can hold the power, the energy, the songs, it will take to pass through a gate. Especially the gate. It comes to me for the first time that each gate I open and pass through will be a kiln of sorts, hardening me, readying me for the next, and the next, until I reach that final gate to the dark star that calls me.
Without realizing it I am fumbling for my heart stone. I set it carefully in the already hot kiln. I don’t know what will happen, I don’t know why I do it, I only know it is right, and important.
Zeena looks at me as if I have lost my mind. “You really are getting weirder all the time! But somehow, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” She smiles with genuine warmth, and I smile back, knowing that we have learned something more important then even my destiny: we have learned to understand each other. I have a companion on my journey.
**atallat—a servant. The atallants are sometimes from among the lower classes of society, but more often are those Anaraians who had developed fully in body but not in mind—somewhat simple-minded and not suited for higher learning. The more feeble-minded of the atallants are called, by the unkind, “sai-atall,” meaning stupid, cloddish, idiot. The word is used as an insult by school children and the less cultured adults.
**sai-atall—a) a derogatory term for the more simple-minded atallats.
b) stupid, cloddish, idiot, dolt.
Zybai held the stone, feeling it getting hotter. He held onto Zeena’s mind. Then, suddenly, they were at the juncture of the fourteen paths, feeling the heaviness of the black star. The gravimetric forces permeated everything, even their thoughts and very spirits.
Zeena asked, mind to mind, “What do we do now?”
Zybai answered, “We sing the song of the fourteen paths. We try to link all fourteen dark stars to this one.”
Zeena looked around, using her mind’s eye. She noticed bright spots against the vast blackness of the dark star. “Zybai? What are those bright specks?”
Zybai felt surprise raise his heartbeat. He had known they were there, but never acknowledged those bright spots. He only had thoughts for the fourteen paths. How could he have missed the Earthling starships?
Zeena grew impatient with her younger sibling. “Well?”
Zybai answered, “They are starships from Earth. They are here to steal the life of this star. We must hurry. Sing the counterpoint to my songs.”
Zeena wanted to protest, but decided to follow her brother’s lead. After all, he had been here before. This was a first for her. What did she know? “Okay, begin and I will follow.”
The song started. The stone glowed, engulfing them with power. The dark star’s gravimetric forces surged, pushing the Earthling starship farther away. Zybai concentrated, even though things were happening that were counter to the normal sciences that he had been taught.
The song broke into songs. A blinding light surged through the fourteen paths. And the dark star sang back in answer. Zybai was astonished. He was so surprised that he missed a few important notes of the songs they were singing together. Everything returned to normal, except for the Earthling starship hundreds of lightyears distant now.
Zeena asked, “What is wrong?”
Zybai answered, “There were too many surprises. I couldn’t concentrate. But, Zeena, I would never have gotten this far without you. Would you like to help me again, next time?”
Zeena laughed, “Certainly, this is better than pots and shards.”
Zybai smiled mind to mind to his sister. “That is true. Let us go back and think about the songs that we must sing. We are getting closer. I am sure.”
© 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: November 28, 2004
Author: L. E. Shaffer
Company: Shaffer Novels/Poetry Company &
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