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Searching the ruins
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Greyhawk
Jul 25, 2015, 4:58:53 AM7/25/15
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I spent some time excavating through the ruins of this once densely populated valley. The many artifacts I found amazed and baffled me. Memories tugged at the edge of my consciousness, like ghosts from a half-remembered past life. Some were warm and familiar, others were strange to me. Tea cups and dessert plates are found everywhere throughout the valley. Some of them with wind-worn edges just poking above the soil. Exploratory digs reveal that the further down one goes the greater and denser the collection becomes. It is as if the entire valley was frequently home to a vast tea party, or perhaps a potluck with more desserts than whole foods.
In one noteworthy corner I found the ruins of a great castle. It almost seems as though the walls, gone now though once towering, were made entirely of rock candy, with cotton candy highlights and hard candy accents. A candy castle? Such a strange finding.
What kind of valley was this where the rulers lived in a castle made of candy and the denizens spent their days in endless tea parties? Did such a magical place really once exist here?
It boggles the scholarly mind and defies all common sense. A kingdom of sweets filled with happy people? In all the worlds of the now abandoned Usenet, surely there was no kingdom as magical as this one.
CactusBlue
Jul 26, 2015, 7:29:01 AM7/26/15
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I was pulled into the valley by the warmth in Greyhawk's memories. There were still enough ruins left to get my bearings, and find the home Sir Tim and I shared and raised our little bear. He has learned many lessons about what it is to be a Braveheart.
In time, I began to explore the half-gone building with faded lettering on the front -- "Cuddleland Post Office". Letters and packages with amazingly unspoiled sweets and other foods still await delivery. Alas, our postmaster walks with a hitch to his left and slower than he was in the days when this valley teemed with life. Between a hole in his right hip and arthritic pain in the other, he can no longer bring the joy of a letter to friends or the delight of packages to the valley's denizens. They're all scattered now. I am sure he will want to deliver what he can before it closes for good when the chilly breezes of autumn whistle through our real world -- the place it seems all of us have come to know as home.
I allow myself to wander the streets and eradicate the names on the mailboxes, and memories wash over like waves -- no, more like a tsunami -- as I remember the parties, the dances. Even now I can feel the warmth of the dance with Sir Galahad at one party after I thought I didn't belong there. I was younger then, but weren't we all.
The castle saddens me the most. Once the home of our beloved Queen Tuggy, I believe with the power of tugs, we could refurbish it and let it be a memorial to her forever. I wish and wave my hands -- kind of rusty with the magic stuff. Two pieces of rock candy appear to fill a hole in the wall. At the steps I leave an everlasting cherry cheesecake for future explorers. I salute you, Greywolf, for helping to remember how to get here.
Shine in my memory, sweet meadow.
With love and cuddles to all --
Julie of the Heartlands, PiTA, PTOUA
Lifetime partner of Sir Timothy Braveheart, KiTA
Mom to Squire Wesley Braveheart
In time, I began to explore the half-gone building with faded lettering on the front -- "Cuddleland Post Office". Letters and packages with amazingly unspoiled sweets and other foods still await delivery. Alas, our postmaster walks with a hitch to his left and slower than he was in the days when this valley teemed with life. Between a hole in his right hip and arthritic pain in the other, he can no longer bring the joy of a letter to friends or the delight of packages to the valley's denizens. They're all scattered now. I am sure he will want to deliver what he can before it closes for good when the chilly breezes of autumn whistle through our real world -- the place it seems all of us have come to know as home.
I allow myself to wander the streets and eradicate the names on the mailboxes, and memories wash over like waves -- no, more like a tsunami -- as I remember the parties, the dances. Even now I can feel the warmth of the dance with Sir Galahad at one party after I thought I didn't belong there. I was younger then, but weren't we all.
The castle saddens me the most. Once the home of our beloved Queen Tuggy, I believe with the power of tugs, we could refurbish it and let it be a memorial to her forever. I wish and wave my hands -- kind of rusty with the magic stuff. Two pieces of rock candy appear to fill a hole in the wall. At the steps I leave an everlasting cherry cheesecake for future explorers. I salute you, Greywolf, for helping to remember how to get here.
Shine in my memory, sweet meadow.
With love and cuddles to all --
Julie of the Heartlands, PiTA, PTOUA
Lifetime partner of Sir Timothy Braveheart, KiTA
Mom to Squire Wesley Braveheart
cpols...@gmail.com
Jul 30, 2015, 3:22:52 PM7/30/15
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On Sunday, July 26, 2015 at 7:29:01 AM UTC-4, CactusBlue wrote:
>
Carl, the shaggy librarian, sometimes forgets he still gets the digest from the magical meadow.
I had heard some time back that the meadow's denizens decamped for Facebook, in a group available by invitation only. That must mean they can't be found by searching, because I have tried. The sad thought occurs that there were flame wars here in the Usenet meadow, and who knows if it still exists in FB.
This shaggy dog is slimmer on top and thicker in the middle than when he joined in 1995. I too remember bear-hunting for hugs, the Merry-Go-Round, the Cuddle Pond with, briefly, its own huggable Manatee. I remember Valentine's Day over many years, and I still say my daily prayers for Princess Tuggy and Princess Kelsey.
If there any tugs to be had here, please tug on the fabric of potentiality for my puppy Frederick, who has finished high school, and is struggling with what to do now. I will tug for Greyhawk and for Princess Julie, Sir Tim, and their little bear. And I believe I'll have a bit of everlasting cheesecake, it being the only kind I can have.
Love, hugs and cuddles to all,
Carl
the shaggy librarian retriever dog
>
Carl, the shaggy librarian, sometimes forgets he still gets the digest from the magical meadow.
I had heard some time back that the meadow's denizens decamped for Facebook, in a group available by invitation only. That must mean they can't be found by searching, because I have tried. The sad thought occurs that there were flame wars here in the Usenet meadow, and who knows if it still exists in FB.
This shaggy dog is slimmer on top and thicker in the middle than when he joined in 1995. I too remember bear-hunting for hugs, the Merry-Go-Round, the Cuddle Pond with, briefly, its own huggable Manatee. I remember Valentine's Day over many years, and I still say my daily prayers for Princess Tuggy and Princess Kelsey.
If there any tugs to be had here, please tug on the fabric of potentiality for my puppy Frederick, who has finished high school, and is struggling with what to do now. I will tug for Greyhawk and for Princess Julie, Sir Tim, and their little bear. And I believe I'll have a bit of everlasting cheesecake, it being the only kind I can have.
Love, hugs and cuddles to all,
Carl
the shaggy librarian retriever dog
Sir Sara
Aug 8, 2015, 1:23:37 AM8/8/15
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*rubbing eyes, not quite believing what she is seeing through the looking glass of old*
So surprised to see there's still a little bit of life left in AC, but it's good even if people have mostly moved on to other pastures such as facebook.
Personally I have been back in Denmark for 5+ years (long story for another venue maybe)
Sir Sara
So surprised to see there's still a little bit of life left in AC, but it's good even if people have mostly moved on to other pastures such as facebook.
Personally I have been back in Denmark for 5+ years (long story for another venue maybe)
Sir Sara
Greyhawk
Aug 8, 2015, 1:25:46 AM8/8/15
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Lead Archaeologist's journal, Day 15, Castle Site:
An odd occurrence. Shadows have drifted through this abandoned valley. Sometimes I can feel them but when I turn to look, they are gone. At one corner of the Castle foundation two pieces of hard candy have been replaced and...
it pains me to describe it...
a cheesecake has appeared. It is a perfectly crafted cheesecake with cherry marbling and an amazing cherry topping. It tastes delicious and it seems self-preserving and self-replenishing. It does not spoil and replaces slices as they are removed.
The scientific mind staggers. There is magic still lingering in this valley.
One last note...I could have sworn one of the shadows that passed was a large anthromorphic dog with a book tucked under one arm. A librarian? We have yet to uncover a library site, but there a promising set of mounds on the west side of the valley that may hold the remains of a school, or perhaps even a university.
The careful survey continues.
An odd occurrence. Shadows have drifted through this abandoned valley. Sometimes I can feel them but when I turn to look, they are gone. At one corner of the Castle foundation two pieces of hard candy have been replaced and...
it pains me to describe it...
a cheesecake has appeared. It is a perfectly crafted cheesecake with cherry marbling and an amazing cherry topping. It tastes delicious and it seems self-preserving and self-replenishing. It does not spoil and replaces slices as they are removed.
The scientific mind staggers. There is magic still lingering in this valley.
One last note...I could have sworn one of the shadows that passed was a large anthromorphic dog with a book tucked under one arm. A librarian? We have yet to uncover a library site, but there a promising set of mounds on the west side of the valley that may hold the remains of a school, or perhaps even a university.
The careful survey continues.
cpols...@gmail.com
Aug 11, 2015, 9:50:23 AM8/11/15
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On Saturday, August 8, 2015 at 1:25:46 AM UTC-4, Greyhawk wrote:
> Lead Archaeologist's journal, Day 15, Castle Site:
>
> An odd occurrence. Shadows have drifted through this abandoned valley.
Carl, the retriever dog librarian, peeks between two holly bushes and reads Greyhawk's notes. Slipping quietly away to the south, he passes the Cuddle-pond, which now seems, wonderfully, full of beautiful koi fish and lily pads big enough to walk on.
> Lead Archaeologist's journal, Day 15, Castle Site:
>
> An odd occurrence. Shadows have drifted through this abandoned valley.
After passing many other wonderful places, finds Princess Patti's Post Office, covered in what looked like ivy at a distance. Upon closer inspection, and consultation of his Kindle reference book, it becomes a splash of different colored flowers: red, white and gold. And lots of pink and shades of green.
These are, respectively, Indian Paintbrush, False Solomon's Seal, Canada Goldenrod and Wild Rose. All flowers native to Patti's native British Columbia. How wonderful that the meadow remembers her, after all this time. Maybe "ruined" is not so bad, more like "reclaimed by nature."
From his satchel of treats, Carl pulls out a cuddly book, The Little Free Library Book (http://littlefreelibrary.org/). Perusing the designs, he briefly considers conjuring up the Tardis model. It will hold lots more books...in the end, he special orders a miniature Princess Tuggy's Castle. It is even bigger on the inside.
Now that a wooden castle stands in front of him, he begins to fill it with all the standard books of wonder: Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, the Chronicles of Narnia, The Time Quartet of Madeleine L'Engle, every Newberry and Caldecott winner and honor book...
Moving books makes him hungry. Time to sneak north and see about some more cheesecake. The books will stay safe and dry. To any passerby, feel free to take a book, but do bring it back, or leave another in its place.
Many hugs and cuddles.
Dame Dementia Neurafirea
Feb 22, 2016, 11:55:02 PM2/22/16
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Hallllllooooooo from the hinterlands!
Though mainly a mere lurker, I too miss the enchanted meadows.
This magical marsh drifted into my consciousness recently--propelled,
perhaps by the dismalling of the dismal swamp of international/US reality.
I miss our little island.
The best of the best to all of you who were its kind creators.
DDN
Though mainly a mere lurker, I too miss the enchanted meadows.
This magical marsh drifted into my consciousness recently--propelled,
perhaps by the dismalling of the dismal swamp of international/US reality.
I miss our little island.
The best of the best to all of you who were its kind creators.
DDN
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tiddles possum
Mar 15, 2018, 9:16:30 PM3/15/18
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a hesitant tip-toeing through the long grass that covers the meadow; if you were watching you might see a brushy tail occasionally poking above the shorter tufts of grass; and a small eager nose sniffing the air for traces of meringue that might still cling to the stones that once were the walls of a bakery...
a tiny marsupial curls up beside the rusty old oven that once baked pies, that every now and then would have a possum hurriedly trying to get out of before it got too hot, and has a quick snooze.
dreams...
^ ^
@ @
o
a tiny marsupial curls up beside the rusty old oven that once baked pies, that every now and then would have a possum hurriedly trying to get out of before it got too hot, and has a quick snooze.
dreams...
^ ^
@ @
o
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