Greetings and Salutations loyal readers of the blog,
I’ve been gone for too long. Wicked and Dreamer have kept up the fight in my absence, but it’s time I pulled my head out of my butt and got back to work. When last we chatted I was left with the muses and a smoking hookah. Needless to say, that did not go well for me. Mischievous Raven to the rescue, my friend whom I have a way of maligning at times, because of his mischievous nature, stepped in. He dragged me away and kept me out harms way until my head cleared. I’m eternally grateful to Mischievous.
After the smoke cleared, and that is no euphemism, I was lazy about getting back the grindstone that is a weekly blog post. So let me tell you here and now I’ve missed you. Sometimes my post here is the only creative writing I get to do in a week. My word that I would do a post every week is the only thing that compels me to even do that much when I get in that mood. I have fallen hard on that promise. I am sorry for that. It is easy to get apathetic about such things, and easier to make excuses as to why, IE. I’m just so busy or I couldn’t think of anything to write, or how about this beauty, I forgot it was Friday.
So here and now I pledge to do better. I know I can because I have done it in the past. There are those special circumstances that may keep me from bringing you the Swamp News once in while. We’ll address them as they arise, in the mean time I’m renewing my pledge to be here every week.
So with out back peddling too much I’ll fill you in on what we learned about the flowers that The Swamp Thing was growing. They were harmless and beautiful and everything was brightening up around the murky waters I call home until Swamp Thing introduced a special fertilizer the zombie horde provided her. The flowers grew bigger, faster and brighter, but (there is always a but) they mutated into something that when ingested gave the ingestee a euphoric feeling.
I don’t know who tried ingesting them in the first place, but before you could say Jerry Garcia, the whole swamp was baking them into brownies, smoking them in pipes or just chewing the flower peddles straight. Thankfully the Werewolf Monks figured out what was going on and rectified the problem. There are some very smart shifters in the monastery, and we are lucky to have them looking out for us down here in The Swamp.
The flowers are gone now except for those Dreamer raises without the help of the zombie fertilizer. Mostly because Dreamer would have nothing to do with the brain eaters. Swamp Thing is back to her less than happy-go-lucky ways. C.Rock Adile is as annoying as ever. The muses are grumpy again and hanging out at The Swamp Shack more than ever. The zombie infestation is on the rise causing me a little more work than I’d like, but it pays the bills. As for my friend Mischievous, nothing seems to get him down. He by the way is visiting relatives in Great Britain and from the cards he sending me he’s having a blast.
He should be returning soon. In the mean time I will hold down the fort. Next week I’m leaving the Swamp and heading into higher ground to spend time with some friends in the red rock country of Sedona. My muse has promised to tag along and he and I are going to hammer out some plot points in the new novel. Working title is” Transformation.” I’ll see you all then. As is my custom I’ll leave with a quotation.
“ It is not the death or dying which is tragic, but rather to have existed without fully participating in life–that is the deepest personal tragedy.” Edward Abbey
Thanks again to the other Dwarves who have kept you entertained in my absence.