These days I speak to my hands often in the night and during the day I day dream about how my life will be like with 4.

Perhaps I will have more time. I stop by the local market on my way home; I need  thyme for my soup. The store is out, it will not be in until next week… I have no time to wait for thyme… my soup cannot wait.

Mix one part russian, one part ukrainian, one part mother’s roots, some squash… to cast away doubt, sautee onions to keep the evil at bay and some yams for a little wam bam.

I thought I had done a good job at facing my demons but the last 2 days I have been reacquainted with walking skeletons… I face them head on, I learned from this. “Shoo-fly don’t bother me” – I sing to myself.

My vessel is wearisome these days and my extra pair will help keep me focused on the task at hand.

The Feast Day is coming and I try to fit in the preparations as best I can.  I start to pull in some nets.

“The Judge” has been captured – as predicted – Tuesday.  This is a game changer, not just for me but also for John Doe, it is likely soon he will be named and regain the ranks as my brother.

I encounter a window of opportunity today and I seized it. In doing so, four jump on board. No one hurts my Gigi. I pushed back and hard at the sharks … enough is enough.

I continue to turn my soup, I have some help today. The eldest angel shows signs of eagerness, still not quite ready for the climb; his chamber is almost ready.

I remember my grandfather, soup was his thing. He preferred to eat from the same bowl everyday. He had no teeth so soup it was. I feel his steady hand as I turn and turn the soup and I hear him saying to me, “Мука не приземлитися на киплячий котел”.  I shall keep the pot on.

The soup is done, the angels tire. I rest with them, I am awakened from my deep sleep… an angel has fallen. It is not the young ones. I feel it in my heart.

I suspect this has to do with the trouble that has been brewing on the mothership, I have tried to set the path straight but it is off course. It is clear, I cannot cast my net from this far, soon the fixer will travel to adjust the network connection.

Alas, I hear from Sault. Thankfully I hear that that book has been picked up and the student is ready. For when the student is ready the teacher appears.

I miss my wings. My daemon tried to pull at them today.

Sault misses her wings too.

The ancients used thyme for courage, this time we are both ready to take the leap.



I drive by. I need water and am worried about him.

The fence is closed, a sign on the door. I do not stop long enough to read the sign, I suspect it says, “Whoa is me .. бедные бедные”.

This feels like the kind of day I want to tire my children out with exercise, get high as a kite and fuck my husband real good.

This will have to remain a desire.  I confessed today to conquer my weaknesses.

I really want my wings back. I need my wings back.

He’s all about making love these days, so weird. He must have fallen on his head or he misses me too. After all, I  am hard to live without.

I catch a fish without trying. Earlier today at Stefan’s house many are willing to jump in the boat, but I am choosy. I will leave these for my husband, they need an alignment and he is the fixer. I counted 5, I must remember to guide him this way but my head is full these days.

I only tempted a man once, a Frenchman … as if they need tempting.  I lost my wings, I will never do that again. I wish  my brother knew that.

I go to the grocery store, the house is empty. On the way  home I meet my husband on the  road.  He is hungry and empty handed. A lesson has been learned and he will not hunt on the  Lord’s day again.  Bonus,  не нада  кричать. Silence really is golden.

The asian delayed, I will have to wait 2 weeks  for the cure. The asians used to be my peak performers, now they are slipping. I will have to wait 5 years for my trip to China to straighten things out.

2:22, we arrive home.  We eat, unclothe and rest.

Time to put another portrait on the mantle and our photo session is at 5:00.

I hope to put this  portrait next to my grandfather’s. I hear him saying to me, “Бог шукає тих, хто приходить до  Нього”.  Order is starting to be restored, this portrait will remind me of this when weakness ensues.

Continuing the adventure… yours <3 Jane Dundee


Garage Sale Treasures

I awake in my light pink night gown… WHAT this ain’t no night gown that my grandmother would wear. It’s sheer pink. Perhaps I should have wrote I awake in my sheer pink neglige. Lilly would be proud! I recall sending her a picture of it the day I bought it and threw my hatred away.

After my message last night, I did some domestic work. I so can’t wait until my extra hands arrive, I don’t mind the work, it humbles me but it keeps me from my real work.  Raphael has 8 hands, I look up to him.

I send 20 messages while folding clothes. Did I mention I have wings on my sneakers? A lot of good that does me. My power to fly has been suspended.

I am grounded.

Earlier today I scanned the local paper on my handheld. I received a feeling that Jophiel had fallen.  I sent him a message on my street walk the other night, but he has not responded to my messages now since before the last Feast Day.  He is unreachable.

I picked up the landline to get word from the network.  I will hear back on Monday.  I should have known when I stopped by the ларек last month and Trifle told me 3 rows had been stolen from his harvest. I was too busy worrying about the material world and my desires.  This part of the brigade is weak, I will need to build up the network. I will do so when my hands arrive.

I do hope he is holding on to the last rung, I can at least help him there. If he falls, he will never come back, he will expire. The thing about the ladder is you can only reach down 3 rungs, I don’t make the rules, I just follow them… well these rules anyways, there is no other way.

Before I close my eyes, I see my brother’s sin.

How could I have known.
How could I not have known.

It happened when he landed in America.

I understand it well, I share the same sin.  He is my twin. We are one of the same but not the same. Actually, I am 12 minutes older which is why I have earnestly tried to protect and deflect his misfortunes since he landed in my territory. Until he forgives himself, ironically he calls this misfortune to himself. Given his day job, he should know this.

I wish I could take his pain away. But I cannot.

Suddenly I have more compassion and understanding.  I absolve to stick to my strategy and hold out for the gold, silver is not working and can never be converted to gold.

I am reminded of my grandfather, that little icon spinning and spinning… he saying, “Диявол любить ховатися за хреста.” At this moment I understand these words well.

I am blessed to know God, he has such a great sense of humour. Here stands the cross and the devil.

My network is not strong enough for this battle … yet.

Jophiel… I could not reach him… he fell to far down the ladder. That’s how the ladder works we can only reach back 3 rungs and then we must rely on our network. It is why I have not completely lost touch with John Doe, I try to hit him where it hurts so he can deal with the old wounds.  I prayed faithfully for 4 years for him to come to me, I am so close I cannot lose him now.

It would be like loosing a brother.

It would be loosing a brother. This I could not bear.

Hence the reason why it is important to foster a good network, you never know who the strong climbers will be.

UnknownI knew Jophiel in both lives.  My heart floods back with the memories we had when we were studying to be great ones.  Our first adventure involved the garage sale across the street. We filled up a pretty gift bag with all the rotten food and scraps we could find in the fridge. There were many as during our schooling we hardly ate at home.

We took it over to the garage sale and left it there. We watched anxiously from across the court yard. We returned the next day. We were caught red handed, they had a video of the sale or so they said. I retreated and left him to deal with the heat.

I will never forget this adventure. Lesson learned, one person’s garbage is not another person’s treasure… haa haa.

I will fight to avenge his death and our honour.

So much to do … so little time. A desk full of paperwork piling up high… where to start?


Sailing Day

I was out sailing today, I did not know I was going to go when I arose. … I am always was open to the wind. My ex father-in-law used to tell me that if I can’t adjust the wind, adjust my sails. I guess that marriage was good for something. :-)

I think I failed to mention I was out sailing today after waking up with a bit of a hangover.

I arrived late last night after walking my daemon and slaying a dragon.  I had texted Lilly to meet up with me and her daemon, but she was spent.

I slew the dragon myself, of course with the help of my daemon, Mila, and enjoyed a Stella.

I called out to my husband to meet me at home, I missed him.  He thinks I want something from him because I randomly text him that I miss him and I love him.

Angels were sleeping in the chariot.

My daemon was still playful.

I arrived home at 11:11. I lit a fire and put three beer in the fridge. I waited and I waited. I wrote.

I waited. I got impatient and picked up the landline. My voice said, “Move ass home, ” the reply on the other end of the line was “Stopped to fix the truck.”

Always fixing.

Jew better pay up.

I drink a beer.

I drank another beer.

I take the angels to their chamber.

He arrives, flat out.

He is a true Aries, nothing calms him like a fire.

Not like my eldest angel, a true scorpion, secretive and suspicious.

Just like his story that someone broke into the house and lit the garbage on fire.  I couldn’t even do anything but giggle in my belly. Bad mama .. fell asleep.  I digress.

We speak. I drink a glass of red, couldn’t open the bottle it has been sitting for weeks… I am useless without a husband.

We enjoy each other’s company.

So anyways back to sailing, I wake up with a headache and go sailing… I guess I could have started the story like that … but there is ALWAYS a story before a story.

Phone dead … no charger… late again. Unable to contact.

I haven’t seen Kernel since the last Feast Day.  I am thankful for the meeting and am assured of the direction to proceed for the upcoming Feast Day.

The net is cast and yields success.

I begin quickly casting nets for the Feast Day ahead.

Net cast out for parting gifts … will remain out for 2 weeks.

Net cast out for make-up … will remain out for 3 weeks.

Net cast out for food, it will remain out until Feast Day. I am a gambler and risk taker at heart, this one is key to the success of the feast. Oh, I cast another net this one will remain out for 1 week.  A good risk taker always hedges their bets.

Net cast out for the agenda to … I shall call him “The Judge”, will remain out till Tuesday.

I consider casting a net out to my former brother, I shall call him, John Doe. He is unnamed to me. He is not my brother. He doesn’t remember me. He is too far down the ladder.  At his rate, he will fail to deliver on the bridegroom.

We play, we eat, we clean.

We wash the filth away and we sleep.

We arise to the alarm… correction I arise to the alarm.

I am late. We are unclothed.

We clothe and set forth to see the brother of Peter and Paul, I shall call him Stefan. I am happy to know him for he comes around only once every half millennia.  He is a precise, gentle, spiritual intellect.

We leave in a rush, the eldest has challenged me.  I will resist the challenge. There is no fight when one opposing partner chooses not to engage in battle.

I am the Captain of this family’s ship. Sit back and enjoy the view, my sailing techniques can throw you over!

I pick my battles wisely.

I don’t tolerate this garbage language or loss of emotional control. Scorpio or not scorpio.

We eat, me and the youngest listen to the disturbance but resist trying to control the behaviour. It fades like a good high.

Net cast out for my second set of hands.  I met her when I travelled to South Africa to see my brother Raphael.  He showed me the way, what older siblings are supposed to do. Truly grateful.

I spent 2 weeks playing with lions, visiting Mandelas house and soaking in love. You can read about it in detail in my other life.

My husband returns home. He is tired. I read him like a book. He is the kind of book where the words leap off the page, it is a good and bad quality.

Within 2 minutes order is restored in the house.  He heads to the shower to wash the filth away.

I am not complaining but WTF! His mere presence and facial expressions change the demeanor of our children. He doesn’t raise his voice or his hand. Unbelievable.  I daily struggle to balance compassion and discipline… failing miserably at both.

My grandfather had a similar way about him. Everywhere he went order followed.  Now granted –> he was 7 feet tall, had a good sense of humour and love for God and vodka( – I don’t remember if equally). I reminisce about driving around town with him. He had an icon that sat on his dash. It was like the earth and had an axis so it could spin. On one side was Jesus, the other Mother Mary. I would stare at that thing for hours. I wonder what happened to it? I would give 2 houses away to get it back.

As I stare at it turning around and around he would say things to me like, “Якби всі дурні носили корони то ми все б були царі”. I close my eyes and I remember him and the day he took me in my uniform to shake hands with the queen. Yes, I shook the queen of England’s hand when I was 6. Something tells me my grandfather wasn’t as excited as I was.

We receive a call from the mothership, so my efforts to depart with my daemon on a walk are delayed.

From the laundry room, I hear, “чурка – ты не русский”. You know I remember asking Soccer a while ago what exactly this meant. I have a hard time determining if it is an insult or a helpful phrase. In someway my heart tells me that my husband has a special short language with his mother that they use to cut through the shit quickly because they value each other’s time. I will leave it at that.

I depart, these days I walk the streets for hours. My greatest teachers and friends are the hookers and homeless people.  They are resourceful – but only day to day. I worry for them when winter comes, but I know the worry is unwarranted. We all have our station in life, it is their choice to maintain theirs instead of improve it.

I reach the halfway point of my route at precisely the same time every night, the hospital. Here I push the buzzer. As always, I need to pee.

The angels did it to me, but I don’t mind.

I always wonder if the person on the other side of the button can see me hopping from foot to foot with my legs crossed, this thought drifts away.

I return early, messages about angels not able to sleep and a hunt to prepare for tomorrow. I lay down with the littlest angel.

I am pleased to see that my husband has kindly change the ‘c’ from ‘h’ to this word in his vocabulary. The word that starts with c is the most obscene word in the english language, I used to hear it more often than I liked… but it has started to fade like the summer.

Out of the 333 letters I had to write, … I only got to this one.

At this rate I will never reach my quota and get access back to paradise. I so miss paradise.

Uriel invited me for a visit, she had me approved for a temporary visa, I got to learn to surf during my short stint there, you can read about it in my other life. She has been there a long time. I miss her.

Good night, may the waves be great tomorrow!queen-eliz-2

Words are silver, silence is gold

Today I was reminded of a saying from an old language … from my grandfather’s time.

I miss my grandfather dearly, I have been praying relentlessly to him these days.

Alas! Yesterday, it paid off. I  was  unexpectedly  reunited with my mother and uncle.

Truly a blessing. My heart opened. I have missed them dearly, also.

Perhaps it is I who has closed my heart. Could it be?

Knock Knock

Who’s there?
Heart who?
Heart who hear you, speak louder!

I miss my husband dearly. Has he forgotten me? My heart aches for my brother but yearns for my husband.

In the old language … В каламутній воді легко рибу ловити, I close my eyes and remember him.

I know it really well. It is my first language.

I choose not to use it. I have chosen to bury it, to bury it deep.  It makes my heart sick, it makes my heart ache.

I yearn for the days past as much as I welcome the days forward.

I yearn for the connection that was lost in the generations that came from the fall.

I have decided to stop playing with the lesser currency and await the golden days ahead. I shall do so quietly, meekly and faithfully.

Сло́во — се́ребро, молча́ние — зо́лото


Continuing the adventure … yours <3 Jane Dundee