Yuletide Youtube: Tuesday Make-it
Dec. 15th, 2015 12:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdSounds of the Season:
Merry moments:
Tuesday Make-it:
These ornaments are made by taking 1/2 c applesauce and dumping cinnamon, the cheap, dollar tree stuff, into it until it forms a dough. Roll it out, cut it with hearts and gingerbread people cutters. Let it dry until solid. String and hang.
This is an easy and cute way to geek up some plain green balls for your tree. A scrap of felt, a couple googly eyes and some hot glue.
To do this, you need to soak the cinnamon sticks in hot water for a couple hours, until they bend a little. Then dry them off and glue in the shape of a pentacle. This pne is decorated with star anise, mini pine cones and some greenery.
Story Time:
From "Rerun" by Edward R Rosick
ebook: https://squareup.com/market/inkstained-succcubus/winter-shivers-pre-order
paperback https://squareup.com/market/inkstained-succcubus/winter-shivers-paperback-preorder
10% discount if you order from the Square website
Amazon
The remains of a 1950’s-style drive-in stood in the middle of a large clearing of weeds and scrub pine trees. Like a misplaced ancient Greek monument, its white rectangular screen torn and yellowed from years of rain, wind, and snow. Rows of rusting speakers branched away from the screen in long straight lines like ancient soldiers standing at mute attention awaiting their next command.
“This is crazy,” Gary said as he carefully drove the Mustang on the rutted path leading into the drive-in. “Let’s turn back and enjoy the rest of the evening at the cottage.”
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Kathy. “First you don’t say more than two words during dinner, and now suddenly you don’t want to be out here.”
“I think there's something wrong,” Gary said. He stopped the car near the back of the drive-in along a line of split-rail fencing and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the glove box. He hadn't smoked in three months. The cigarette tasted hot and acrid as he lit it and inhaled deeply.
“Wrong? About what?”
Gary turned off the engine and sat back in his seat. “I don't know how to say it exactly.”
Kathy reached behind her seat and pulled out a bottle of wine from a small cooler. “Maybe some alcohol will get you talking.” She filled two small plastic glasses and handed one to Gary. He took it and drank half of it in one gulp.
“It's just a weird feeling I had when I was talking with Matius,” Gary said. “I used to get it when I was in Iraq during the first Gulf War. You remember me telling you how we went in before the war was officially started to blow up as many ammo depots as we could?”
Kathy nodded but said nothing.
“Saddam knew we were doing it, so there were dozens of Iraqi Special Forces out on patrols, looking to find us. To kill us.”
Gary tossed out the cigarette and watched its red glow arc into the darkening night air. “My men called me Spiderman, because I always seemed to know when the Iraqis were around a dune or in the area.”
“You had a sixth sense?”
“No.” Gary laughed, drained the rest of his glass, and watched as Kathy refilled it. “Just years of being in Special Forces, knowing what to look for, knowing that any little thing not quite right could mean our deaths.”
He took another drink of his wine and finally looked at Kathy.
“I had that same feeling when I was talking with Matius. It was like I could read his mind, and there was something really wrong inside his skull. Something that scared the hell out of me.”
Kathy sat back in her seat and looked calmly at her husband. “Gary, you are an intelligent, logical man. I want you to carefully think about what you just said.”
Gary crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. "You think I'm crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy, but-"
“Maybe I am,” Gary interrupted. “Maybe I'm just a crazy old man.”
Kathy frowned. “Is that what's bugging you? Matius’ comment that you're my daddy?”
“No,” Gary answered. “Stupid comments like that ceased to bother me months ago.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” Kathy filled his cup with more wine. “Have some more booze so I can take advantage of an old man.”
Merry moments:
Tuesday Make-it:
These ornaments are made by taking 1/2 c applesauce and dumping cinnamon, the cheap, dollar tree stuff, into it until it forms a dough. Roll it out, cut it with hearts and gingerbread people cutters. Let it dry until solid. String and hang.
This is an easy and cute way to geek up some plain green balls for your tree. A scrap of felt, a couple googly eyes and some hot glue.
To do this, you need to soak the cinnamon sticks in hot water for a couple hours, until they bend a little. Then dry them off and glue in the shape of a pentacle. This pne is decorated with star anise, mini pine cones and some greenery.
Story Time:
From "Rerun" by Edward R Rosick
ebook: https://squareup.com/market/inkstained-succcubus/winter-shivers-pre-order
paperback https://squareup.com/market/inkstained-succcubus/winter-shivers-paperback-preorder
10% discount if you order from the Square website
Amazon
The remains of a 1950’s-style drive-in stood in the middle of a large clearing of weeds and scrub pine trees. Like a misplaced ancient Greek monument, its white rectangular screen torn and yellowed from years of rain, wind, and snow. Rows of rusting speakers branched away from the screen in long straight lines like ancient soldiers standing at mute attention awaiting their next command.
“This is crazy,” Gary said as he carefully drove the Mustang on the rutted path leading into the drive-in. “Let’s turn back and enjoy the rest of the evening at the cottage.”
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Kathy. “First you don’t say more than two words during dinner, and now suddenly you don’t want to be out here.”
“I think there's something wrong,” Gary said. He stopped the car near the back of the drive-in along a line of split-rail fencing and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the glove box. He hadn't smoked in three months. The cigarette tasted hot and acrid as he lit it and inhaled deeply.
“Wrong? About what?”
Gary turned off the engine and sat back in his seat. “I don't know how to say it exactly.”
Kathy reached behind her seat and pulled out a bottle of wine from a small cooler. “Maybe some alcohol will get you talking.” She filled two small plastic glasses and handed one to Gary. He took it and drank half of it in one gulp.
“It's just a weird feeling I had when I was talking with Matius,” Gary said. “I used to get it when I was in Iraq during the first Gulf War. You remember me telling you how we went in before the war was officially started to blow up as many ammo depots as we could?”
Kathy nodded but said nothing.
“Saddam knew we were doing it, so there were dozens of Iraqi Special Forces out on patrols, looking to find us. To kill us.”
Gary tossed out the cigarette and watched its red glow arc into the darkening night air. “My men called me Spiderman, because I always seemed to know when the Iraqis were around a dune or in the area.”
“You had a sixth sense?”
“No.” Gary laughed, drained the rest of his glass, and watched as Kathy refilled it. “Just years of being in Special Forces, knowing what to look for, knowing that any little thing not quite right could mean our deaths.”
He took another drink of his wine and finally looked at Kathy.
“I had that same feeling when I was talking with Matius. It was like I could read his mind, and there was something really wrong inside his skull. Something that scared the hell out of me.”
Kathy sat back in her seat and looked calmly at her husband. “Gary, you are an intelligent, logical man. I want you to carefully think about what you just said.”
Gary crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. "You think I'm crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy, but-"
“Maybe I am,” Gary interrupted. “Maybe I'm just a crazy old man.”
Kathy frowned. “Is that what's bugging you? Matius’ comment that you're my daddy?”
“No,” Gary answered. “Stupid comments like that ceased to bother me months ago.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” Kathy filled his cup with more wine. “Have some more booze so I can take advantage of an old man.”
