treasures we found…

 Page Eighty-five


…my friends and I.

                                 the fairy well                                         shiloh’s lookout

              the split road                        the hill to the morning

      solstice berries           the tiny cones                          running moose

                         star mouse                        snowflake trees

             butterfly flowers               deer, deer, deer                mishibogs

                                  a million falling stars

the log bridge                                      the guardian owl             whippoorwill                                                                                             

the toady pool                               the little singing stream          

                                      the sunset hill                the hemlock nemeton

              a million blue fireflies                  ninety-seven birthday bats

 herons                                   fairy flowers                              the sandpipers

             wee black snakes                           those baby possums for spot

each other                                                                wanderlust


 Share  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 (resin fairy at by Evelyn Myers Hartley)


wandering after bill

Page Eighty-four

Thursday 8 July 2010       Turners turning off

on kuuma, on kuuma  ~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~   Share  

In 2008, when I began writing journals on line, I didn’t want to keep living. It was my goal to end my life,  and before I did this, I wanted to leave some messages on my blog for a specific person, who has remained unnamed. I haven’t yet been able to the thing I wish I could do, but maybe nature will do it for me. My health is never very good, and I smoke, and I eat mostly sugar and fat, etc. Anyway, the person for whom I’ve left these messages might possibly, upon my demise, get curious about what I wrote all this time. If so, the messages will be here.

They are a sort of code that only very few on the planet would understand, and since I was drowning in the code of Matthew and his colleagues for so many months, I didn’t see why I shouldn’t have one or two of my own. Nxonfu is another one of my codes, though one I did not invent myself, and I have some pages of that one too.

The code in these messages centers around a character called Bill, and as I’ve been wandering through my past posts, I’ve found more Bill messages than I thought there were.  It deserves a post of its own now, this Bill-code, especially since I might well write more such messages in future. So if you’re the type that likes to drive yourself nuts reading things you don’t understand, you can follow Bill around from here.

one         two                  three

       four          five                      six

seven     eight          nine (s-l-o-w)


eleven                            twelve                 thirteen

                fourteen                         fifteen                       sixteen                                                                    seventeen


(sandcastle at, clip art sun)


the scrapbook art I

Page Eighty-three

Wednesday 7 July 2010      Turners broiling

on kuuma

So… here to discuss yet another form of wandering I’m doing since the destruction of what was my life. Namely, the graphics on my website, of which this blog is a part. I’m wandering through photographs that I took in my own life, through little objects that I liked when I was myself, jewelry, and more. When I don’t have the actual things that were mine because they’re trapped in the storage unit or trapped in a woman’s barn and she doesn’t seem to want to give them back, I get things just like the ones that were my own. A great many things charmed me, and a great many interested me, back when I was still myself. So now I’m wandering through them all, trying now to construct a visual representation of who I was to the same degree that I spent two years blogging, creating a written representation.

Every single visual “scrapbook” paste-on represents some element from what was my own life. Nothing appears by random chance. Nothing appears that doesn’t have significance in the life I lived with animals and with my other interests for 55 years. Wandering through words this long time now, and memories. Wandering the streets of Turners in tears. Wandering through animals who have shared life with me. And wandering through pictures.

Art II    Art III

 Share   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


july, she will fly

Page Eighty-two

1. Thursday 1 July 2010

                     Wednesday 2 July 2003  — darkest dark, which

                         lightened again, for a while. Tá brón orm.

                     Wednesday 2 July 2008 — Love and murder

                     Wednesday 4 July 2007  — no more fireworks

           Jasper          1991  —  3 July 1996

                      you must have been cold there in his shadow

2.    thursday 8 july 2010    

            Smaointe           1994  —  7 July 1996

                smaointe ar an lá, raibh sibh ar mo thaodh

           Pigeon         ooh-óoh-ooh

                1996 — 7 July 2003

      3. Monday 12 July 2010

             Marlena        wie einst, lili marlen     1976 – 8 July 1978

                      Monday 14 July 2003  —  one of the happiest days

                                           of my largely tenuous life

          Tammi         how brave, how strong, how happy

                                            Oct 1994 – Sat 8 July 2006

          Bríd       the goddess who rings the chimes

                                            12 august 2001 — 9 july 2003

4. Tuesday 13 July 2010

                    Tuesday 15 July 2003  —  yet another one of the happiest

                    days of my life.  two in a row, and rarer than gold.

            Catfish          thank you, thank you, teeny one

                                            1988 — 15 july 1998

5. Wednesday 14 July 2010

                           15 July 1991  — more children for Romi and Juliet

6. Friday 16 July 2010

                          Sat 15 July 2006  — the day of batling. how much

                          to love, how much to learn, in one small day.


                        And on the same day, the mafia-chick bulldozed

                        into our lives. I couldn’t know that that cheap-

                       looking bitch in the white chariot was going to

                       mean the end of my life. Diabolically paradoxical,

                       how one single set of 24 hours can contain both so

                       much love and beauty, and so much ugliness

                       and evil.

7. Tuesday 20 July 2010

          Jake          methuselah of cockatiels; doodle-o

                             1990 — Tuesday 20 July 2004

          Friday 20 July 2007  — the last doggie birthday we had


   Brian, Bror, Brainse, Brittany, Brigid, Braon (poor breathless one)

Tuesday 20 July 1999 — when Brainse? when Mishi? Diarrhea mouths

won’t tell. Braon until Sat 19 Feb 2005. All of our lives changed on the

   day you were born. Thank you for the change.


        (july 22 happy ten months old to the petty dictator shiloh-chailin)

8. Friday 23 July 2010

          Saturday 26 July 2008, I’m told about my grandfather.

          First by a “therapist”  (how the hell did HE know?), and

          then by Matthew Lacoy.

9. Wednesday 28 July 2010

          Chani          in the grass grown long and green

                     7 Aug 1991 — Wed 28 July 1993

          Friday 13 July 2007 — de duivel, de zwarte duivel lachte

10. Friday 30 July 2010

          Cinnamon      bird of spice, all differences accepted

                                     1991 — Friday 11 July 1997


~~~~~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2009-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.