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Web Issue One (Click here)

Issue 5 Summer 1999

"Reprints" Autumn 1999

Issue 6 Autumn 2000

Jernil Notes July 2001


"God made Everything, right?-
That means God made all the butterflies and flowers?
No man is that sensitive-
God must be a Woman."

Mary Ellen S. (at the age of seven)
Copyright 1999 Mary Ellen S. All Rights Reserved.

Nano Winner

NaNoWriMo 2005

We survived. We thrived. We typed until our fingers cried.... well... almost.

New Look

We thought maybe we'd like to pretend we were prosperous and well-organized... so... no- that won't work...

We beat up this little old lady from Pasedena and stole her copy of DreamWeaver 8... well... not quite.

We got our hands on a copy of DreamWeaver 8 and started playing with it. We're experimenting with different layout ideas. This is one of them.

Boring, huh?

Dragon Hedge
Oh no, the dragon hedge is beginning to look like Moe....

The People of the Glen

We had visitors last July. (Human Beings from the Real World, south of the Canadian/US Border.) Mark and Elsa. Both of them have Native American roots. (Although I don't know if either would insist on being politically correct about calling them that.) & When I described a Troll who ran into a dream and stood there, grinning, Mark knew immediately that that person was indeed, a Troll. One of what he's been calling "The People of the Glen" which is a title handed down from Celtic/Gaelic tradition. These are people that other traditions call 'Faeries' or 'The Little People' or any one of a thousand other names, including 'hallucinations'.

The one I saw had a round face when viewed from the front. His face was also fairly flat when viewed from the side, and he had a long nose that looked rather tubular and had quite an upturn. His arms looked like woody branches of a tree. (They were rather thin, and somewhat flat where you might expect them to be rounded.) He scared me, but the more I thought about him, the less threatening he seemed. I thanked him for letting me know he was there and I apologized for trying to kick him while I was dreaming. (Should I add that since this I have learned that when we are asleep and dreaming, almost all the connections between sections of our brains cease to function. This probably explains why we don't always act 'sensibly' in dreams. This and the fact that we are sometimes trying to teach ourselves lessons that our conscious minds don't always want to listen to?) I believe that this Troll told me in a subsequent dream that his name was 'Droofus McGuire'. From his tone of voice, I thought he could be kidding me. I still felt no malign motivation. He might not have been lying or 'kidding' at all, and/or I could have been mistaken, could have remembered something out of place.

It seems the People of the Glen are real, and have a definite purpose in being here. They take care of plants and things and make the part of the world they have been intrusted with inhabitable and inviting to the animals who share our world with us.

Mark led us through a ceremony to Honour and Thank The People of the Glen for their work and their continued presence. The ceremony included building a fire, borrowing a cigarette from somebody who smoked so we could take the tobacco out of the cigarette and toss it into the fire as some kind of traditional offering. We also bowed to the four directions, held hands and thankedg our not quite human neighbours for being themselves and for making the world we share more interesting and healthier than it would be without them. (According to Mark, if the People of the Glen leave an area, its soul kind of dies and no animals want to live there.) We had smoke rising into our faces without making it difficult to breathe and we had tree branches acting like a hurricane was blowing them around, as they seemed to be trying to reach down from their trees and touch us. Then we had lots of twinkling lights in the bushes in our back yard. The twinkling lights, Mark said, were proof that the People of the Glen back there were happy with us and happy that we had honoured and thanked them.



The Trailer in Quebec
Jim- securing the tarp around his travel trailer where it now resides, near Bouchette, Quebec.

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