cassandra's Blog

My fabulous son is near Seattle. My incredibly beautiful and brainy daughter is in Dallas. If I had it to do over again I'd be an Egyptologist! Love 'em both, but I paid a premium price for them, and they are scarcely in my life at all any more after consuming half of it.

Are you out of your brilliant mind? ALL the hoardes of earth are your family? I don't even think we could come up with a jury of my peers! No, no, mein schatz, I am far too particular to find interest in much of mankind. I am kind to the denizens I must deal with, but I much prefer the splendor of the rare good mind, and am perfectly happy in my own. Do you know the old-fashioned meaning of "condescend?" To be kind to those far beneath one's notice! In that sense only I "condescend" to others. Chuckle. I was out pillaging and plundering a day or so ago and a young man I had spoken to for perhaps two minutes as part of a three-way conversation lit up instantly when he saw me, and when I called him by name and asked him how he was doing on his finals studying accounting he all but glowed. True, it is hard to forget Tweedledum when he bags your groceries, but...kindness counts. It cost me nothing but a little breath I was through with to be nice to the kid. I could exhale it gently, or turn it into pleasant words. No contest.

I know you are worth more than your weight in gold, but will remind you that the "new" "luxury" is going to be food...and that in pioneer societies we make our own entertainment, part of which is good meals. In the words of my sainted departed husband, "I don't have to practice being miserable!" As for being "obliged" to anyone for your food, you aren't the least bit helpless, and I'm quite certain you could provide both interesting viands and, ah, things it might be best to consume quickly since one would not wish to be caught receiving stolen goods even in times of war!

I love basic black, and wear nothing else, but I have a decided partiality for things that glitter. You know, gold, diamonds, LED...Hierarchies ARE, my treasure. If they weren't I would not be writing to you when I should be tucked up against a nice, warm sleeping body. There ARE ubermenschen, whether the world likes it or not. If I cannot be a "super" man, I will hang it up.

MONEY, my darling, is a WEAPON, as well as a great defense. A quick, only faintly impatient, rattle of half a dozen heavy gold bracelets and the recalcitrant tend to get cooperative. It would be so untidy to leave dead bodies scattered around because the former inhabitants had not pleased me, don't you think? Ah, how I hate being stuffed into this little box! I am not the sort to be confined.

Goodness, what set you off? "For sale?" Nobody made you an offer! I AM for sale, but the price is in the coin of the realm I want to create, and I have yet to meet anyone interested in paying it or able to pay it since I have been a widow. It is character, principles, intelligence, knowledge, kindness, self-reliance, a sense that the world is a ridiculous place, imagination, affection, a hearty appreciation of the joys of the flesh, and the ability to enjoy life and see all that is splendid about me.

As for har megiddo...well, the MOST I will say is that it would not surprise me if it occured by about 2012, but that isn't my problem and I have no intention of trying to "prepare" for it. MY task is to hang onto and protect the things that are important to me, and I work very hard at it. I refuse to be a peasant living in a hut on the banks of the Ganges, or to starve obligingly for the "ideals" of totalitarians. I am going to build another oasis, with serenity, love, security, companionship, and as many beautiful things around me as I can manage. I will have a geode world: ugly rock to those who view only the shell, wondrous shining crystals within. I hope you will come see it sometime, even if you do not wish to stay. By the time you get to Phoenix...pull me out a tailfeather, please.

Become a pimp? I think not. First, I do not KNOW any men who have to buy sex or would be interested in doing so. Second, I do not think of that as a commodity which is for sale. Sex is the most fun two people can have when they aren't using their minds, but call me fastidious...I just cannot view it as a financial transaction. How desperately sad. In this case, I cut a deal: we found something the wife is capable of and will ENJOY doing (caring for chickens, rabbits, and gardens), and the "of age" daughter cannot come. Period.

The one I REALLY feel sorry for is my adored Pita, who is going to try to protect and sustain THREE totally useless individuals: the ex-wife who treated him so shoddily and is consideraly less interesting than grits (she was a bad wife, mother, and housekeeper, as bland as Cool Whip, and her "work" experience is selling dresses and being a church secretary. Yuck.), the spoiled HS graduating senior who is a pain in the posterior and prone to making snippy remarks in her "innocent little girl" way, and the 21-year-old son who is busy flunking out of college for the second time because of his lack of drive and total obsession with interactive computer games. At best, Pita will have the beauteous Emily's boyfriend, who is smart (other than his two-year obsession with the twit), strong, and willing. They cannot possibly survive, even though Pita is incredibly inventive and spending money at perhaps an even faster clip than I am. One man can NOT raise enough produce and meat to feed five people. One man can NOT defend against beast and foe. The beasts include wild hogs, cougars, and assorted snakes. The "neighbors" on the next ranch shot over 100 of his goats one afternoon for sport, and his place is well out of sight from the road but an easy shot from their ranch house.

Must run, Doll. Sorry it took me so long to find this. Hugs and serenity be yours, darling. Linda

Okay, so somebody tell me who came up with "mesonoxion," because it isn't in my ancient Webster's Unabridged. The middle of the...hurt? Can't be night because surely that would be nux...Gee, Latin and Greek stems were a long time ago.

Stop nubilating, which has nothing to do with nubility! Much more of this and I may break into Tom Lehrer. Virility/sterility/senility...

Chuckle. I mastered all those long ago, just batting around the universe learning things for the fun of it. Little things...like knowing we live in the Cenozoic, or the meaning of borborygm...I know a fascinating fellow I swear makes up acronyms! I'm very secure in my status, and to me and mine being extremely intelligent and well-educated is "normal." One good trick is to learn a new word in a sentence. For example, I will never, ever forget "ineluctable." I learned that one when I was nine, reading the Saturday Evening Post's page of funny stuff. Someone was talking about vocabulary, and suggested "This piece of pie is certainly ineluctable!" I find solisequeous useful, too. I haven't run across a word I didn't know in the Reader's Digest in over fifty years (I read it only in waiting rooms, and usually not even then because I take my own books to those unilateral agreements where I show up on time and the doctor sees me when he gets around to it), and I was aghast when I saw one for the first time recently and the 20 word list was down to 10 I think a moderately bright eight-year-old should know. Still, this is an excellent article, and it doesn't matter how or why one broadens his or her knowledge so long as one keeps doing it. Oh, Lawks, I need to get up, wash my hair, lave (or ablute) my filthy body, and prepare for a rough day tomorrow. Much love, Cassandra

Star Rover...

There are still plenty of ribs, turkey, barbecued sausage and so forth, but not a "Geronimo!" in sight or sound. No thumps of assorted sizes on the roof. Do the Snowpaw and his ladyfriends have little parachutes, too? Who pulls their ripcords?

I, too, like "Don't Tread on Me," but we have some interesting local variations from our history, as well. We have a dull-looking but very pointed one with a cannon on it, for example.

The problems with delegating are finding those who will accept the duties, and then finding those who are capable of fulfilling them from that pool. Many times amateur help is far more trouble than it is worth. It isn't like an SOG, more like your vision of this site. It's a good idea, but you and I are the only ones doing anything about it! To compound the problem, it sometimes takes me time to find messages...

I'm doing well on rounding up livestock and having trouble with over-enthusiasm. There is a very definite limit to how big I think this colony can be before we start getting labelled a compound or a cult, and there are questions in my mind whether some of those who would be very useful can be brought to see that they must contribute more than their right index fingers. I daresay Geo Wash had days like this, too.

In particular, Wayne's oldest son who is encumbered with two of the most useless females ever to clutter the earth wants to be here, as who in his or her right mind wouldn't, and they're pushing hard. If John were in charge of stores we would always know exactly where everything was and how much was left, but having to feed three for months is a very large price to pay for that service, particularly when we're talking about my money. It is not possible to buy one's way into the group, but it isn't fair to expect me to pay their way, either. Sometimes circumstances alter cases. You're worth feeding if you can't come up with a stack of FRN, although I still say that there are times when we have to compromise in the interests of preserving our hides. After the breakdown of society you may refuse to touch picturesque bits of worthless paper with my blessing, but at present they (or quaint, handwritten paper "money" known as "checques") are the only means of exchange recognized by the indigenous population. In some cases the natives accept small rectangles of plastic which they insert in small on-site places of worship, but those, too, keep tabs in terms of FRN.

It is all very well for those who eat reptiles to say they can live off the land, but there is going to be a great deal of competition and I have no recipes for roasted armadillo or turtle soup. In theory we can grow sugar beets, but for practical purposes when the sugar is gone it will be GONE.

Ann's a good writer, and we all know you and your collection of beautiful blondes! There is no economy more false than a cheap lawyer.

I know of better things to do with your time, but it is certainly fun to watch!

GREAT article, thanks. I know several truckers, myself, and it is partially about being able to stay in business, of course, but patriotism and concern for others is in there, too. They also told me that trying to be a scab in a truck strike can be just a bit dangerous. Cassandra

Dear Anonymous:

The Daisy is a super ditz and will be bounced as soon as she refunds the ten thousand she stole! Some men have really great taste in females, huh? Not having a fort or a sword, the Colonel contented himself with divesting her of her credentials and badge.

The shindig was, indeed, splendid, and no, none of us are too old for "kid" games. Having neither horses nor goats, we didn't get to the doubtless wonderfully amusing sport similar to polo, although I could come up with some Jordanian drag that would fit you. Can't you imagine the lot of us racing around the pastures whooping like maniacs and swinging at the "ball?!" Grief, we'd have every cop in the county here in no time, and I don't think they would like the bland explanation that we were practicing cultural diversity. The Colonel outshot 'em all, I having enough sense to grab a quick nap while they played. We laughed, discussed plans excitedly, had lavish eats, only a few beers got consumed (s'okay, the bottles of Chivas, bourbon, tequilla, and rum I got will go into the stores), while I sat on the buffet and put my well-manicured toes on the table. When I sat in a chair the fellows had more trouble paying attention to me. They could literally talk over my head. We kept the Apocalypse fellow under control, and ignored the one who wanted to brag about how rich he is. I bought wheat and corn--it was terrific, truly, and the fellows would have been agog had you been here.

I'll count on you to show me what to do with the wheat, which will be stored in professional containers. One of the amusing incidents was two people knowledgeable about such things trying to talk me out of floor space and reinforced concrete walls for it! I'm having a little trouble envisioning Chicken Fried wheat patties, but my faith in you is still strong. Containers full of dessicant are what you have in mind. The fellows tell me wheat has to be able to breathe, and suggested wooden floors, at which point I said with admirable patience that it made more sense to purchase a $1500 container MEANT for that purpose for each thousand bushels, so go find me some. That puts the total price up to $13.50/bushel when I know it is worth forty, and I will still have nice big containers I could grow fish in, or something if they are ever emptied. In context your "entheogenic" makes sense but I am constrained to tell you that Mr. Webster does not recognize it.

Don't gots no "hoes," Suh, only occasionally friendly ladies. The ditz got jealous because she wasn't invited to the meeting, took 15 very powerful pills, told gen-gen, and locked herself in the bathroom. It wasn't a serious suicide attempt, just a distraction, obviously. He had the door beaten down, and they hauled her off to the hospital. That part I understand. What I do NOT grasp is why he didn't get in the car calmly and make the drive, either before or after calling 911. Has the man no sense of proportion? NObody wants the ditz even as spoils of war.

In Rangers we only go as high as Colonel, too. Tradition, don'tcha know. Ah, Horatio! How MANY times I have read the whole series, starting as a child. Tell me you're crazy about Sharpe, too!

Pheasant is good, but we may be getting to where less fussy folk dine on peasants, whose pelts aren't nearly as pretty. Money has only three uses: future security, current living expenses (I do believe in living well), and if anything is left over, spend it on frivolity. Did you like the account of the fellow who tested the Taser he bought for his wife on himself?!

I have two goals: to come out of this alive, and to come out of it rich! Because it is easier to protect ourselves when there are lots of golden doubloons spilling over the top of the bathtub, you see, and if I end up Souse of the Border it is always useful to be able to buy off the Federales and Rurales. I really have always wanted to be a Robber Baroness in my castle on the river...

REAL riches is having whatever you want, and if I won a fifty million dollar lottery it wouldn't change my life much at all. All I would do with it is buy a splendid tangle of land about forty miles out, throw up and stock a 10,000 square foot building back in very inhospitable terrain, move my treasures, and get a little liposuction, and then go back to doing just what I always do. I can't imagine a bigger horror than an around the world cruise, or partying with the "beautiful" people, or whatever they're calling themselves these days. I want to sit in my house well off the side of the road and be a friend to a small, very select few--with enough baksheesh available to insure I am left alone. You know, the simple things of life! A jug of wine, a loaf of fresh-baked ciabatta bread spread with Boursin or better, a nicely-roasted bird, and thou (and him and him and him, if you aren't available) beside me, doing assorted things in the wilderness.

I still don't know what BBL means, or why you work out of doors. Are you claustrophobic? I am, a bit. Small spaces I can handle, but low ceilings make me antsy. Not a good kind of antsy.

I've got my work cut out for me until the day the riots break out--and for long afterwards. However, it keeps me busy and amused, even when it is sad. There will be two children, which means I need to have birthday candles...but unless I work out what they will want on their next birthdays and stock that, too...Christmas presents will be things we make ourselves unless we take part of our personal storage space for that purpose. Oh! That HURTS. I am accustomed to very lavish Christmases, but the chances that either of my children will be here are virtually non-existent. However, there is the consolation that I am building a new extended family, and I won't be "alone." DO plan on being here for me at Christmas, loved one, and for Thanksgiving. I'm rather like the British in the time of the Raj. I believe in sticking to dignity, traditions, and civilized ways. There won't be any native servants or little boys with turbans and ostrich feather fans, but there IS a couple that will take care of the housework and similar chores in return for the roof over their heads and the food on the table. Gee, I'm halfway to being a robber baroness already! I've got to get MY self in bed, too, so I'll write tomorrow. Much love and

Arrivederla, Tessoro

Darling Blackwater:

A lovely, useful day, full of hugs and divine smoked and grilled ribs and chicken (even a freshly made coconut cream pie piled high with luscious meringue that I turned my green eyes away from resolutely. Fortunately, the men devoured every succulent crumb, as well as the chocolate marble cake.), and acquiring a source of wheat by the bushel. By the thousands of bushels to be precise. Only problem: I have to have a place to store it by my birthday. I sent the runners out to scour my kingdom for overhead storage bins, having declined the suggestion that I build another palace and let the golden grains (or whatever color Red Hard may actually be) spill over floors and pre-cast concrete walls...Want to turn some of that gold of yours into golden corn at $7/bushel or wheat at $13.50? Honest, officer, all I did was smile at the nice man...and not tell him the current price in many places is $40/bushel. It is HIS responsibility to know that, not mine to tell him. Wheat is more precious than gold because it is edible, and will make a magnificent trade good or allow life to go on for a very long time, although it makes very insubstantial jewelry unless one uses lost wax casting. The corn doesn't have to have storage bins until September.

What fun, you should come play, Old Mac Douglas, and I could send you forth on gallant missions of midnight requisition, and peer eagerly in the night for the sight of you returning with vast vats across your broad shoulders. Wheat has another excellent property, making a fine backstop for projectiles propelled at considerable speed, one good reason for the Palace idea, I admit. Chuckle. We could tell the BATF, "You can't shoot! You'll contaminate my food supply with lead! The EPA will have a fit, as will the FDA. Shooting me is 'legal,' but violating federal mandates will cause you to loose your boots and badges."

Interesting Q: what is the penalty, in wartime or not, for lying to one's commanding officer? I would think being cashiered in peacetime, at the very least. No, of course I am not guilty of such an offense! I never lie to anyone. Life is too short and people aren't worth it. Well, the "officer" involved was never anything more than the general's ditzy concubine, in itself an offense against all that is right and holy.

My timetable has been accelerated even more, so I'm going to try to swat a few pesky gnats tomorrow, knock out plans for at least the "commercial" kitchen and shop area, and do a cost analysis on two smaller buildings as opposed to one larger one. Then I have to go walk the land a bit so I can call the bulldozer man and have him come play in the sacred soil of the ancestral acres. I have another myrmidon out seeking a small drilling rig for water wells (liquid gold in times of crisis) and see if we can't get three wells put in at least by the end of the year. I'm looking for a windmill at a good price, too. I'm going to go buy an additional tank for propane and have him dig a nice hole for that, too. The bulldozer man, that is.

I have two goals for the guns of August until....? I want to come out alive, with all my faithful guard in sound condition, and to come through it RICH. Pink slips (Mercedes or better), diamonds, land (notary and lawyer available) and similar geegaws in return for eggs, fresh roasted rabbit haunches, and gallons of pure, fresh, delicious water...I have always wanted to be a robber baron!

Love, Regina

Darling VD: That isn't what I meant and you know it. I'm the Philosophy major, so don't tell me you can't put your foot in the same river twice because both you and the river have changed. Nothing is more useful than philosophy, but I'm speaking in far-sighted mode of never seeing my homeland as it is now, and that hurts, for all the excesses and corruption. There are big buildups going on, because the Washington/CFR/NWO junta knows that Texas is the key. The Corridor "must" be built, and they "must" be able to control the coming chaos. We're right in Sherman's path, God help us all. Will try to send you some pics of the glories of the Spring here. When the Colonel and I came down last week we passed several groups parked by the side of the road taking phots of each others buried in the lush grass and wealth of brilliant wildflowers. How we missed you this week end. Love, Cassie

I begin to suspect, my love, that only thee and me want to play this silly game.

Ah, the good ideas you have. When do we ride through the night together, the wind in my hair, laughing delightedly as the fourwheeler hits a rabbit hole and we jounce into the air? The crew is being regaled with hot brownies and vanilla ice cream, the good kind with little flecks of beans in it. I cut one of my interrupters off quickly when he wanted to meander on about how I should build a landing strip. Already planned: 1500' long, 30' wide, no more than 1 1/2% grade! I always know things like that, even if I can't find simple objects like the "dotting" tool useful for painting flowers on a little girl's toenails some "helpful" soul stashed somewhere. Too much "help." Found my makeup bag in the pantry, of all places, and could have gone for weeks before figuring out the (to me) odd place the new housekeeper hid all the shampoo. Gee, if you find it under the sink, chances are that's where I like to keep it, huh?! My general factotum removed all the telephone books from the desk in the kitchen and stashed them in the LR, where I do not have a 'hone hooked up. Which reminds me, I haven't seen mine in a day or two, and it is almost certainly turned off. One of the truly great luxuries in life is having someone to answer the telephone and say, "Madam is not at home to callers." Failing that, turn them off and don't listen to the messages! That's what e-mail is for. Biiiiiiig hug, Babe. Elle

No, Love, I still haven't a clue how this thing works! Glad to hear no force in the universe (save, one supposes, your mind, and love) can force you to do anything, but the rest of us haven't figured out how to purchase "goods" without the loathesome FRN or to hold on to property without paying Danegeld. "The tents the fey weave out of other people's dreams..." Beautiful. Yellow is the color of joy, sunshine, gold, daffodils and buttercups, and my favourite, as well. I'm stealing a few minutes while I have the crew mesmerised by V for Vendetta. Have found something nearly as bad (although not as dangerous) as an expert on Roberts' Rules of Order: a zealot with a loud voice who seizes upon every utterance and takes off across country with occasionally vaguely connected, although still irrelevant, pronouncements about Biblical prophecy. I finally had to tell him that I never worry about things I cannot control or alter, and that we are not talking about Armageddon but about the coming year. If I hear one more time that WE are the true Israelites I may say something considerably more pungent. In another corner two of the "boys" are engaged happily in debating the relative merits of firearms, as though they were Napoleon and Wellington chuckling over what they could do these days, or a small dictatorship with a new "leader" eyeing the treasury and deciding which toys he wanted. Gunboats or howitzers? Earth to supposedly rational adults, we are discussing--attempting to discuss--how to choose up sides for mutual protection when the Mexicans boil over the border, the truck drivers are on strike, foreign troops are doing more than lounging around on our soil (as they are now), and similar mildly useful topics. Fortunately, none of the distractors are candidates to join the Lady Linda's League of Lusty Warriors (for reasons of very short attention spans AND lack of more vital qualifications!) Calgon, take me away. Reminds me of the bumper sticker: the more I consider the North, the more I wonder how we lost the war. The more I consider some of the troops, the more I wonder if they are competent to lead a pack of Boy Scouts to the bathroom given the directions, "Straight down that hall, second door on the left." I DID come across a good solution today to starting the chickens now, though! One of William's long-term friends who bought a lot on my border. The HOA won't let her have chickens. I'll buy chickens and give her a place to take care of them, mark it off the list. I really do not have time to play Marie Antoinette at present. Lots of love, and a profound wish that we were lounging in hammocks gazing at stars we have never seen before and discussing truly important things, such as where we are, why, and what we're going to do about it. My vote would be to continue eating brisket and Kalamata olive bread, and hugging each other from time to time...Elle

AAAARGH! Hate-um new format. No can go into text and comment at will. No have-um bold, italics, fonts, and size changes to show emotion and person-ality. Will do feeble best to say....Aaaah. Nuthin' like prime Ulf. Wisht you wuz here, my very own Blackwater troop. And...let me know what you want in addition to cows, primroses, and one sexy Texas lady who is prim only in public (Noblesse oblige!), and it shall be provided unto thee, at least unto an eighth of my kingdom. Ya'll come, complet with local ANG O-3 and machine. In res being computer literate...Darling, I have you and Wayne and David for that (others available on line), so I intend to continue to regard this beast as a superior typewriter that usually allows me to send my friends greetings instantly and plays games with me. I do not HAVE to master any given thing other than the universe. I know how to delegate. On those rare occasions when I find anyone competent to hold the banner. We DO have flags other than that with the cross of SinAndrew on it, you know. Much more to add, but the Legions are demanding their leader's second in command immediately. Hugs, and if I didn't have Rangers here I'd haul down the Burnett flag and hoist the Stars and Bars in your honor! Elle

Questions for a beautiful day: IS Stormulf still alive--or dead in a cave in Afghanistan or in a coma in Arizona, his spirit on Barsoom? Who IS that sun-glassed man who teleports from background to background, never changing pose? When does the C-4 training seminar start? Ulysses brought a block of it home from the wars, once... looked a lot like Lava soap, felt more like Silly Putty. Men! You send them out to loot, pillage, and plunder, and what do they bring you? (Not that a girl can't appreciate a thoughtful gift like that, of course. Even if we never get a demonstration of what it was for...) We had in mind gold, diamonds, oil, apes, ivory, ancient relics, and peacocks, and we get elderly weapons in two pieces, held together by the sling, and a smug, bland, "I got it from a man who had no further use for it." I've always thought that was one of life's better one-liners, right up there with Warf saying, in obvious frustration, "The trouble with earth females is that they're so FRAGILE." This pseudo-earthling had the midnight watch and is having trouble with the subalterns who expected her to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning. Look, fellows, I'm out of my sleeping silks and furs and roughly vertical, and the bleary-eyed, frowzy, no make-up, bed-head, "I'll get out of my bathrobe eventually" look is a disguse. Think of it is being under cover at least until I get my mind firing on all cylinders and my nicotine level up to functional levels. Duh Babe came and rousted me, baying joyously, "Mama, Mama, come look! My mans had puppies! New mans frens here! Oh, Mama, Mama come see, do! Pack bigger. Nice mans! My like nice mans." She had redecorated in early garbage after I went prone; I'm determined to consider it urban camouflage. Here at the Ranch "form follows function." The Palace with crystal chandeliers, marble halls, and serenity and elegance is elsewhere. My son described Taj Ellora once as "A museum much in need of a good curator!" He still lives anyway. Neat kid. (Well, okay, so he's a forensic accountant but prophets are without honor in their own countries, and when he is CFO of a major corporation his doting mama will still think of him as a neat kid.) Once more into the freya, dear friends and new friends to be. Mama's analysis of a month ago was confirmed today from "official" sources: comestibles are, indeed, up 60% in the last month. Investment advice for the rest of the year remains "Buy commodities. Gold is always good, but you can't eat it."

Looked seriously at a goldmine myself, today. My problem is...I ALWAYS want to buy gold! I think it WILL hit $2000 this time; silver is a better bargain any time it is priced at less than 30:1. Question, you know who: how ya gonna pay for the stuff given your position on the Fed? Will send article via regular channels.

Thass me, yellow as they come every time I think of the government, the stock market, the Fed, food riots, the price of oil...but the world still contains bumper stickers:

"When Confederate flags are outlawed, only outlaws will have Confederate flags!"

"The more I learn about Yankees the more I wonder how we lost the war."

"CONFEDERATE BY CHOICE. UNION BY FORCE!"

"Gawd's country," as we like to say 'round here. Nuthin' as beautiful as a Texas spring (which can start in January.) When I look out over my monitor I see lush meadows full of very pricey cow critters (not mine, alas, belong to my tenant), and a constant succession of wild flowers...Indian paintbrushes in brilliant orange and yellow...blowsy pink primroses in profusion...our famous Bluebonnets...daisies, Queen Anne's Lace, Texas Stars, dewberries blossoming forth with the promise of big, tasty berries guarded by vicious thorns...a flock of egrets visits from one of our lakes, and buzzards and hawks circle lazily, seeing if anyone left a little lunch lying around. The days are in the seventies, the nights cool enough to snuggle under a down-filled comforter.

How lovely our land is. Will there ever be another spring like this? I do not know. I cannot promise you that all will be well, for it will not.

Help! I'm trapped in Stormulf's world! How do I get out of here?! Ulf, Ulf, rescue me! Well, no, don't rescue me, come join me in your world, and I will thee a pleasure dome erect. You have your Cassandra in a bottle of your own making. I'm alone, and I don't know what to do. Furnish this world for me, or show me the way to the hollow...Cassandra

I think your forum has the hiccups. Cassandra is an accomplished editor writer,and typist, and she does not write "the" when she means "thee," or omit "have" about the desires of the serfs. Signed, Cassandra!

Dear Ulf: Two things are beneath my dignity: hurting the feelings of my inferiors needlessly and caring what anyone thinks other than my other-worldly self and a few very special friends like the and the Lady A-D. Arrogant? No. Simply a little something I worked out long ago: what I think about the other person is more important than what he thinks about me. What I think about myself is more important than what the other person thinks about me. Mind, now, we do not kick sacred cows lightly. Heavens, the next thing we knew the serfs would want to their snouts to be counted too, and ladies would stop wearing white kid gloves. Did I ever mention that I loathe being stuffed into little boxes like this? I like to see the whole picture. You, the Colonel, and I are my three favorite "private" authors. Hope this test works. The world is full of computer geeks, but I am the best elf you have. Even if I haven't a clue how to comment on what someone else writes. Food riots in Haiti, Mexico, Africa, stock market tip of the day: buy stock. California bunny rabbits, catfish, chickens...Love, Cassandra