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joegodaPockets had found a hollow tree on the north side of the Ridges to hide away and sleep. He dreamed a dream of a thing he had not done, but knew that he would have, if he had been there.
"Happy Birthday Susi!", they all chimed in.
Pockets was happy. It was an odd feeling as he was usually content, but rarely happy. He was even singing. Of course, he may have had a bit too much to drink, he may have been a bit too playful and that woman.. Bob.. well. He had to keep looking at her face, because if he didn't his eyes would not have stopped moving for a very long time.
His cheeks were numb, which told him that he had too much to drink, for sure and true. He remembered, painfully, the first time he had that much to drink, and had Bags test his theory of alcohol and pain tolerance. Bags loved to tell the tale of knocking Pockets through a pub window and asking if Pockets could feel anything yet. If it had not have been for Griz there might have been serious damage.
Bruce, the love of Susi's life had thrown together a little shindig at Swineheart's. Susi was the guest of honor, and except for one of the members of Queen's Gamboni, all were assembled. Singing was done and loving was had, on a gentle, gentle note.
Pockets felt at home. He felt at peace. Here were people that could accept him for all his oddities, for all his eccentricities. He talked with Michelle, the lovely wife of Bill The Tailor, whom, it was rumored made magical clothes that never wore out, and never stained. Michelle and Bill had traveled all the way from a magical place they called The Village of Shopkeepers. Pockets was captivated by Michelle's eyes, and he was entranced by the concept of making cloth that never wore out.
Most importantly, there was something about the way Bill played his guitar, something in his voice that took Pockets back to a childhood he never had, a simpler time when life was not scrabbling for a living, having to figure each puzzle out and he could simply be.... a child.
Grizelda sang with Bruce and the harmony made Pockets smile with tears. Grizelda never thought her voice was very good, but the lubrication of the ale had loosened her tongue and Pockets dearly loved Grizelda's voice, and was glad she decided to let it fly. He was doubly glad that Bruce had provided the instrument for that flight.
Oh my, the people he met, and the things he talked about. In his dream, he couldn't remember all of them.. Craig, Fairy o' fire.. Kevin, the pipest... The harpist, and eccentric himself that kept Pockets attention, as he dearly loved the harp.
It was a wonderful time that Pockets had as he dreamed. And Susi, the Queen herself, the binder and gatherer. For a brief instant, Pockets looked at her in his dreaming and felt that he had found a long lost relative. She looked radiant, and had earned every single of the twenty years of thirty two years experience.
He turned in his sleep, smiling, a tear running down one cheek. Pockets felt, for the first time since he had met Grizelda, that his family had suddenly grown larger.
He felt, not loved... he felt Love, with a capital Ell. This was what life was all about.
Pockets says "Thank you to all of you. I had a wonderful time, and I don't think the feeling will be duplicated any time soon. Happy Birthday, Susi!"
Joegoda echoes the thought.
"Happy Birthday Susi!", they all chimed in.
Pockets was happy. It was an odd feeling as he was usually content, but rarely happy. He was even singing. Of course, he may have had a bit too much to drink, he may have been a bit too playful and that woman.. Bob.. well. He had to keep looking at her face, because if he didn't his eyes would not have stopped moving for a very long time.
His cheeks were numb, which told him that he had too much to drink, for sure and true. He remembered, painfully, the first time he had that much to drink, and had Bags test his theory of alcohol and pain tolerance. Bags loved to tell the tale of knocking Pockets through a pub window and asking if Pockets could feel anything yet. If it had not have been for Griz there might have been serious damage.
Bruce, the love of Susi's life had thrown together a little shindig at Swineheart's. Susi was the guest of honor, and except for one of the members of Queen's Gamboni, all were assembled. Singing was done and loving was had, on a gentle, gentle note.
Pockets felt at home. He felt at peace. Here were people that could accept him for all his oddities, for all his eccentricities. He talked with Michelle, the lovely wife of Bill The Tailor, whom, it was rumored made magical clothes that never wore out, and never stained. Michelle and Bill had traveled all the way from a magical place they called The Village of Shopkeepers. Pockets was captivated by Michelle's eyes, and he was entranced by the concept of making cloth that never wore out.
Most importantly, there was something about the way Bill played his guitar, something in his voice that took Pockets back to a childhood he never had, a simpler time when life was not scrabbling for a living, having to figure each puzzle out and he could simply be.... a child.
Grizelda sang with Bruce and the harmony made Pockets smile with tears. Grizelda never thought her voice was very good, but the lubrication of the ale had loosened her tongue and Pockets dearly loved Grizelda's voice, and was glad she decided to let it fly. He was doubly glad that Bruce had provided the instrument for that flight.
Oh my, the people he met, and the things he talked about. In his dream, he couldn't remember all of them.. Craig, Fairy o' fire.. Kevin, the pipest... The harpist, and eccentric himself that kept Pockets attention, as he dearly loved the harp.
It was a wonderful time that Pockets had as he dreamed. And Susi, the Queen herself, the binder and gatherer. For a brief instant, Pockets looked at her in his dreaming and felt that he had found a long lost relative. She looked radiant, and had earned every single of the twenty years of thirty two years experience.
He turned in his sleep, smiling, a tear running down one cheek. Pockets felt, for the first time since he had met Grizelda, that his family had suddenly grown larger.
He felt, not loved... he felt Love, with a capital Ell. This was what life was all about.
Pockets says "Thank you to all of you. I had a wonderful time, and I don't think the feeling will be duplicated any time soon. Happy Birthday, Susi!"
Joegoda echoes the thought.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-14 01:46 am (UTC)Hugs
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-14 04:37 am (UTC)And you.. you just keep them eyes a'shining, as they are the lamps of your soul
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-14 02:02 pm (UTC)We spent some time on the drive home going through songs that might go on his CD. He most definitely wants to do one, time and money are the only things that stand in the way. I like the idea of a live version anyway. He's got that gift of becoming one with his audience and it shows in his music. I am very proud to be his wife on many levels.
Btw, sometime you need to hear his version of Ernie's "I'd Like to Visit the Moon." Tears every time and a favorite here.
I will go back and read more of your stories as I can. Grab a cup of Lady Grey when the kids are quiet and go read.
I grok you too. *hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 04:25 am (UTC)Mom has since become a quadriplegic in Indiana, a victim of her own drunken undoing.
I thought about not using it. I thought for... maybe 2 minutes, which is pretty darn slow for me. I made the decision to use it because it's whimsical. Sort of like Willnill, the contraction for Willy Nilly. I also figured that Mom, bless her heart, for all she had done, gave me fantasy and wouldn't mind if I plagerized her a bit.
So... I hope Bill doesn't mind if I refer to him as Willbill, because it's quite possible I'll actually vocally call him that, specially if I'm not quite Chester, and more Pockets.
Tim, my good friend, also known as Bags, has suggested that I create a web page for my stories, that way folks can read them at their leisure and not have to wade through months of archives.
And so I will. The link will be posted in the next few days.
He also suggested that I might just create some drinking songs to be sung in my pubs, now that I have three of them in my various stories. *sigh* It's a curse, and a blessing.
Hope to see you some time in the future.. both of you! And I suspect that Bill and I have quite a bit in common, if I were to guess.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 04:53 am (UTC)No, it didn't bother him a bit. It brought a chuckle which is a good thing. If you go back through Wm's journal a bit (January of this year specifically) you'll find some about his past, issues with his parents, etc. From what I can tell so far, I do believe you two have much in common. I don't really feel that this is the place to talk about his past, other than what he's written. Feel free to email me anytime though - mjmorris at seamlyne dot com.
I'm looking forward to reading your stories and other writings. I immediately felt at home and comfortable reading your story from the other night. It made me want to turn the page and keep reading.
I've heard Wm speak of curses/blessings. It's what helps to make one unique though.
Are you coming up to KC at all during the run of faire? We are planning on going to the Handfasting. Wm will be involved in White Hart and I'll be tagging along when I can. I'm sure we'll see each other soon. The world is getting smaller everyday.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-14 12:07 pm (UTC)You'll meet lots of his friends there, too. And at least one of 'em, we reallyreallyreally hope, we'll all get to finally meet in person next fall at the wedding!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 04:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 02:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 11:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 11:39 pm (UTC)*grin* It's a conspiracy!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 11:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-15 11:58 pm (UTC)