Flying Monkeys, Anyone?

Some places practically scream for stories to be written about them. What could be a creepier setting than an abandoned theme park? Only an abandoned Wizard of Oz theme park.

I always found The Wizard of Oz more than a little creepy as a child. A crazy old woman set to take out her frustrations on :Dorothy, reminding me none too favorably of Mrs. Trimpe, my first grade teacher, who (rumors said) had a glass eye which was why it never quite seemed to sit right in her skull when she was looking at you.Mrs. Trimpe terrified me. 

I thought she hated me. I know she called me “too social” on my report card. I half expected the flying monkeys to appear every time she slapped her hand down on the desk and commanded the class full of wiggly six-year-olds to  “Pay attention!”
This abandoned amusement park just moves me with thoughts of the terrible dangers that could be lurking there. Is it an angry place, jilted and alone, waiting to exact its revenge on a world that has let it fall into ruins? 

Could it just be a misunderstood place, lonely and missing the laughter of children that once filled it’s courtyards in it’s heyday and desperate to reclaim its former glory?

Is there a silly silo or a twister ride waiting to transport the protagonist away to Oz?
Does anyone or anything live there? What kind of denizens has it attrackted? Simple woodland animals or something more sinister? 

I don’t know, but itdoes spark the imagination.

26 Days Later

It’s been 26 days since I last sat at my computer and tried to write.

My knitting needles have fallen to the wayside. My fingers feel thick and unresponsive against the keyboard. My brain is a rusted windmill trying to turn in a dying breeze.

After a bit of back and forth between ourselves and not one, but two of the local internet providers, we managed to get the internet back on January 9. Original internet provider remains our current provider, despite the fact they first told us we wouldn’t be able to get anyone out to look at our internet before January 20.

Then I got The Day Job Crud, which turned into bronchitis. That, in turn, riled up my asthma, which made the bronchitis worse. Enter VICIOUS CIRCLE from stage left.

I ended up with three days off work to try to recover. Round one failed. I’m on my second go-round of antibiotics and steroids to try to heal things the rest of the way up and still managing to work 40-hour + weeks to try to keep things going with things at the day job.

Home has been a blur of dinner, laundry, and falling asleep reading because last night was the first night I’ve been able to lay down to sleep. Before Friday night, laying down was a good way to trigger a painful, endless coughing jag. Laying down to sleep is a real improvement.

Saturday night’s midnight asthma attack told me I still have a way to go before I’m 100%. I’m feeling better, though. That’s got to count for something.

 

First something, anyway

I was supposed to be going out for First Hike now out at Matsell Bridge with the roommate and Sophie-dog and the friend with the scarf and Bruce-dog. I am here, at my computer because it’s just across the hall from the bathroom.

Hello, First Bout of IBS of the year (also known as lingering IBS from last year.) Apparently, something’s still bothering my intestines, though I don’t recall eating anything truly offending in any sort of quantity. Sometimes the IBS just likes to remind me that it’s still a thing in my life, especially when my fibromyalgia is flaring up. (Short answer to the medical tests all coming back “mostly harmless except for these things that we need to watch” is “You’re tired because your fibro is in flare. Be better at managing things.”)

Hopefully, I’ll get Mr. IBS calmed down enough to take a short urban hike later this afternoon.

At least now I get this time to start working on some of those goals, like “What shall I actually knit this year?”