BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Okay, I’ll stop there, because we all know what comes next…

So anyway, a comment on my last blog begged not only a response, but its own blog entry as well. Paula wanted to know if we got Puck into a warm, dry place. Obviously, she remembers the pics from the ice storm of late 2006 where the little beggar got turned into a snow capped Puckcicle.

For those of you unfamiliar with Puck, he is a mischievous nature spirit who takes many forms. One of the most common manifestations you will see represented within the Pagan community is that of a small Roman Satyr. To put it in more conventional terms, he’s half goat.

The Puck in question here, however, is a wonderful piece of garden statuary representing the little beggar…It is something we picked up several years ago and has graced our home ever since, albeit in various locations throughout (both inside and outside) over those years. Below is a picture from a website where one can be purchased, just to give you an idea of what he looks like without the ice and snow…

Quite obviously, you can get one at The Magick Moon…(very cool store, BTW… I have one of their “babe on a broomstick” T-shirts)…

But, anyway, here is the picture Paula remembers, and it will show you what Puck looked like back in 2006, when he was making his home on our back deck and the ice storm rolled in…

And finally, here is how he looked this morning…Well, kinda. I had to point him out in the picture. Just follow the arrow to the circle…

You see, Puck now resides in the rock garden at the back of our yard… Why? Well, it’s a long story, but let’s just say he likes it back there with the spirits of the many mischievous felines we’ve rescued over the years who have since grown old and gone on to the great yarn basket in the sky.

Oh, and before I forget. In the previous blog I mentioned something about the neighbors being too damn close. Well, that’s true (even though we actually have great neighbors) but I wanted to clarify something – that grey building off to the upper right of the picture is our shed, not one of our neighbors. We actually have a pretty sizeable back yard.

Okay, so there you go, Paula. Puck chose to remain out in the elements yet again. It’s probably for the best. When he lived inside the house he used to steal my socks… But never a pair… just singles. I wonder what that’s all about.

More to come…

Murv

(This post is in response to a comment left when the Yule Poem was originally posted on Myspace…)

Yes, Jo, I am often amazed that EK doesn’t strangle me as well…

However, I feel compelled to give you all the history behind my version of “Twas the Night Before Xmas”…And, no, it isn’t because EK has me in a choke hold, or that she is standing over me with a flogger…

(Probably because she’s at work right now .)

Anyhow, the posted version of “TwasXmas” is one that is slightly tweaked, with a couple of extra verses added. The “original” psycho-redheaded-material girl filk of this timeless poem was written by me back in December, 1995. Yes, pre Rowan Gant (but not by much, as I began writing the short stories upon which the RGI series are based in 1996.)

Some of you may be aware that I had a long career as a Senior Level Electronics Technician, and in July of ’95 I was stolen away from the service center I managed by a company that had landed a lucrative contract with none other than Western Union. They needed someone capable of doing component level repair on old Concord Payment Terminals. Now, while I had never even seen one of these blue beasts before going to work for this company, I was part of a dying breed of technician–meaning, not only could I work on computers, but I actually knew how to use an Oscilloscope, Logic Probe, Solder/Desolder Station, as well as being able to read schematics. This meant that I could take one of these little beggars apart, track down the offending components (logic IC’s, resistors, capacitors, crystals, what have you) and replace them. They offered me A BUNCH of money to come work for them, as well as some especially tidy bonuses if I could meet a particular quota of repairs. At the risk of blowing my own horn, I actually did 2.5 times the quota each year–so the bonuses were very nice.

So, there is the setup. I left a management position to become a bench tech for another company. While that seems a step down, the dollars made it quite a step up.

However, something I discovered after joining this company is that during the annual Xmas Party, the newest member of the staff was required to Sing, Dance, or in some fashion briefly entertain the rest of the staff. Having been hired on in July, I hoped that I would be spared by a more recent hire but alas, that was not to be. When the holiday party rolled around, I was still the newest kid on the block, and 2 minutes of silly entertainment was expected of me.

Since I cannot carry a tune in a bucket, even if I have help, (just ask the Barstool Prophets…I sat in with them during a party held in my honor at Violet Flame Gifts in Ohio and croaked through a song or two…in my defense I was rather inebriated, but I digress…) As I was saying, since my ear is apparently composed of a tin-aluminum alloy, I asked if it would be okay for me to recite a poem instead. (Yeah, I can’t dance either…think Elaine from Seinfeld)…They were all for that and so it was set. However, you know me. I couldn’t see my way clear to recite something serious, and “TwasXmas” was born.

I actually have the two fading yellow sheets of legal pad paper upon which the original version was written here on my desk. I dug them out of my files so that I could transcribe the bit of rhyme here, and of course, decided to tweak it a bit in the process…(One of those silly writer things)

But, this isn’t where the story ends…(Yeah, here comes the part about EK)…The poem was written all in fun. The absolute truth of the matter is that EK is one of the most practical individuals on the face of the earth. Were the scenario in the poem real, she would be more likely to offer the fat SOB a Scotch, then sit down and calmly talk to him about her list which would contain such items as warm socks, an electric blanket, or maybe some new towels for the linen closet. I kid you not.

Yes, Virginia, the only thing material about my redhead is the fact that I spoil her with material things whenever I can afford it. Oh, she’s still Evil, don’t misunderstand. She’s just not a material kind of Evil…

So, there you have it.

MR