Great grandfather’s farm is still there
Judy Collins, “Secret Gardens”
But it isn’t the same ….
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Some of my fondest memories are of a barn, such as the one you can just make out behind me here. After all, I may be much a product of cities and college these days, but I started out as a country girl in rural Michigan.
Read more about the secret gardens of my heart ….(Author’s note: since I didn’t have access to some 50 Residents in the proper skin and costumes, I’m asking you to suspend disbelief on my photos, and supplement things with your own imagination. Either road, here’s a short Christmas story from the 48th Century, and my character Ariel Sherman. HG)
Ariel glanced around her at the four dozen-plus gold and silver people surrounding her. As usual, The Land of Fantasy had put on a phenomenal production of its current revue show, and everyone looked satisfied with things, no matter the changes in the script for the evening. Of course, for cyborg memories, “changes in the script” were rather small beer. It was the human pride in their craft that shone here, pride in performing in a once-a-year show to the satisfaction of both themselves and a demanding audience.
There was still a final act to go before they rang down the curtain for the next four weeks, for the show’s annual break. This would not be the usual finale, though, with its famous nudity; not on this night. For this was Day 357 on the Limlight Standard Calendar. There were children in the audience tonight, and the entire performance was much more family-oriented. Especially for tonight’s finale, the one element of this special show which had not changed from year to year. To Ariel’s demanding eye, everyone looked happy, prepared, and confident. She nodded happily back to them, said, “Alright, people; let’s do it,” and got back words and signs of agreement. “Go, Dalton,” she whispered to her organic stage manager, who grinned back, tapped at his tablet, and gave the needed orders. Recorded music began playing; the “small” curtain in front of Ariel opened thirty seconds later, and Lady Ariel Sherman entered at stage center, sweeping through the curtains in a massive ball gown of white satin.
She dropped into a stage-depth curtsey as the audience cheered and applauded and the rest of the cast and company entered behind her. Each of the feature acts took their own bows, then arranged themselves behind their star artiste. The audience quieted at last, and Ariel said into the amplification field, “Thank you all so much for coming tonight to The Land of Fantasy! It’s always our joy and pleasure to perform for you, but doubly so on special nights, such as this.”
Read the rest of this entry »Zana stepped back into her apartment the next morning, thoroughly relaxed by the night’s activities … all of the night’s activities. It had been a stressful term so far, even for a cyborg; of course, graduate studies were always stressful, but psychology was tougher than most. And add into that my personal psychotherapy starts in two weeks, she thought as she moved into her bedroom to change out of her finery, into a casual unitard. God knows what little gremlins will turn up then! She had always considered herself well adjusted and mentally healthy. Who but God could guess what a qualified psychotherapist would find …? Then her lips quirked back in a mercurial change of mood. Although her career would be made, perhaps, as the author of the first case study on a ‘borg in the literature!
The small jest improved Zana’s mood; but she still felt the need for some encouragement, or at least a shoulder to cry on for a few picoseconds. Glancing again at the holographs on the mantel, she regretted not returning home to her parents’ house. Still, there were other ways of getting together with family … not as satisfyingly tactile, but they would do in a pinch …. She said to the room, “Computer, please call Ariel Sherman, home code, full holo.” She sat on her couch as the computer beeped.
Shortly, a full-body image of her mother, wearing a green casual outfit and a purple silk duster, appeared in the holoprojection field created by the comm program. “Hi, sweet one! What makes you call on this fine Saturday morning?”
Read the rest of this entry »I came in world the other night, and discovered a notecard waiting for me … and got quite surprised when I read it. I’d been invited to give my profile for a magazine that’ll be coming out in a little time (I don’t know when at the moment). They said they could send a photographer out to shoot me; but my schedule is hectic at the moment, to say the least. So I decided to take the other option, and shoot myself according to their specs. (Be kind … always follow the instructions.)
September 3, 1960, another dimension ….
“Radio’s off; good … not that it was of much use anyway. And the water and air pumps are shut off, too ….”
“I suppose I should shut the doors. At least Ma would have said to do that; but nobody else is coming down here any more, so I’ll leave ’em for the critters to borrow.”
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Easy Street is the place most of us … especially the ones who live paycheck to paycheck … dream of landing on, as did our parents and grandparents. Here in Second Life, Easy Street is easier to find; one place is a group of sims that includes Casablanca Bay.
Jumo came out with a gown a few weeks ago that would be perfect for anyone living on Easy Street in RL. I missed blogging about it while it was at the May round of Sense; but it has made it to June’s store, and can be picked up there.
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I’m wearing:
A quick visit here for me. I was trying to get this up much earlier on Friday, before this week’s Fifty Linden Fridays finished up, but didn’t make it. The skirt and wrapped sweater, however, are from Caboodle, and I think they’re part of a standard set of separates, so you can still get them — just not at the sweet L$ 50 price.
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I’m wearing:
Photographed in Kia Kaha region
… then let me have a nice warm cashmere sweater. Something that’ll keep me warm even if the shoji is thrown wide open. This one may have a huge gap up the center of the back, but it does the job, it’s stylish, and I just keep the fireplace stoked.
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A few days ago, Jem gave me a shout and asked to meet me at my place to talk blog with the others. Diana and Conan couldn’t make it, but Morgan could, and so we went up to my office at the World-Wide Headquarters of a Blog Known As Around the Grid. “So, you got an idea?” I asked as we got comfortable.
“No,” Jem said. “I have a complaint. We’re missing something in the blog.”
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I can see clearly now, the rain is gone
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright)
bright (bright)
Sun-shiny day
I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin’ for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright)
bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day
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I’m wearing:
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My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Sister Gatling Gun of Love and Mercy.
My Johari window -- visit and offer your ideas on my personality
Around the Grid 