Einstein on Fairy Tales

old book

When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract, positive thinking. – If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.

Source: Albert Einstein

Picture: Anna Langova

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Remedy: Awkward Silences


Problem:  Awkward Silences.

Probable Reason:  An awkward silence means an angel is passing over.  Oh, you thought it was you?  Naw.

(Source of the probable reason: Dylan Thomas’  Portrait of the Artist)

Picture: Paul Cooper

Inky’s Remedy: The next time there is an awkward silence turn to the person next to you and as seriously as possible say something like the below…

  • Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you’re wrong. This however, isn’t that moment.
  • Coincidence or angel booby trap, how do you tell?
  • Where would fallen angels be without gravity?

Then slowly shake your head, and meander away.  Awkward silence=Poof!  Your personal interest level to others=90%.

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Did you Know? Pencils..


Superstition: If you use the same pencil to take a test that you used for studying for the test, the pencil will remember the answers.

Picture: Adroth Rian

Inky’s Take: Yeah, right.  All mine wanted to do was hang every night with the sharpener! I could never figure out why…

Did you Know? Singing..


Superstition:  If you sing before seven, you will cry before eleven.

Picture: George Hodan

Inky’s Take:   Dang, there goes my morning rendition of “Eye of the Tiger”!



“You can’t wish for more wishes or for vague generalities like happiness that are impossible to grant. Your wish has to be something specific enough that I can use my wand to make it happen. Oh, and recently there’s been a ban on inserting yourself into the Twilight series. The Cullens are tired of different teenage girls pinging into their story every time they turn around.”

Source: My Unfair Godmother by Janette Rallison
Picture: Larisa Koshkina

Concentric Circles or Decision


Life can be a concentric set of circles endlessly leading you by the nose toward, were you had been.  Need an example, how about decisions?

The thing about decisions is you are never going to know if it’s right or not, till you take a walk down that long street and reach the conclusion, resolution, or a brick wall.

Not deciding means you are standing still, staring at what could be a huge boon, or a miserable disaster.  So what to do, what to do?  To decide or not to decide, that is the real question.

The answer?  Its your decision.  But there is one small point to remember, not deciding leaves you right where you began.  You cannot move forward without making a choice.  So do you move, or stand still?

Yup, that’s right.  Its your decision.

Photo: Petr Kratochvil

Bayou Sauvage #6


He studied the ceiling and waited for the numbness in his limbs to recede. With patience born of habit he marked the lines running above him and let his thoughts linger on his present problem with one little kitten.

His nails ripped the satin sheets. She had reluctantly agreed to work as a mule in exchange for getting rid of her father’s debt, but that didn’t imply cooperation. Like the wild cat she was, she fought him every step of the way forcing his hand into violence, like last night.

She needed taming, and Dak – against orders – had pulled his punch both times exposing a weakness. He snarled, shredding satin. The bodyguard feared him, he was sure of it. The girl despised him, much to his chagrin, and while he wanted her, that didn’t mean he needed the guard.

But it amused him, much like watching a fly devoid of its wings, to see them struggle toward escape. There was no escape! He held their lives within the palm of his hand they should know he was their god! His fingers closed squeezing into a tight fist until blood seeped from where his nails buried into the skin. He lifted his hand and sucked at the crimson rivulets. While the guard was a walking corpse on borrowed time, he had big plans for Kitty, if only she would do what she was told. He sluggishly pushed himself up, and turned toward the sunlight invading the room. The warmth rejuvenating him.

He sneered as he thought of all the false information about his kind that he persistently maintained. Contrary to the stories the sun was not his enemy. He was a cold-blooded creature of the night, yes, but sunlight provided him warmth pushing away the numbness that invaded after the blood energy dwindled.

He slipped nude from bed, and stretched before fully opening his blinds allowing the light to ripple along defined muscle. He was the apex predator; young, strong, fast, and as soon as he fed, full of energy. Thankful for the violence that erupted against him in the 60’s. Glad he had been left bleeding in that broken alley. And immensely grateful for the sinister shadow that had bent licking at his wounds. He didn’t remember that night, until the awakening three days later feeling better than he ever had before in his whole sad, sorry life but with an urgent need.

He laughed out loud as he remembered his first feeding. Sloppy, full of mistakes, he’d been a neonate then, vulnerable, defenseless but he had survived! Now he was invincible.

He pushed away from the window, and settled at his computer. In keeping with his secrets he worked during the day, and played at night. They thought him dead to the world at this time. What did he care, it fit with his plans. But for now, he rubbed his hands together, there remained the taming of a little kitten who didn’t understand who was master.

Word Count: 497

Photo: HongKiat

..of Soldiers, War, and Bears


Yes, that’s right, bears.

To be more specific a single, beer drinking, cigarette  smoking, ammo carrying, enlisted bear known as  Wojtek who knew how to salute.

Newp, I’m not kidding.

He was a paid soldier of the 22nd Artillery Supply Company of the Polish II Corps during WW II.   He served his fellow soldiers and company until 1945 after which he retired from military service, and lived the rest of his days in comfort until his death in December 1963 at the age of 22.  

I discovered Wojtek today, doing research and just had to share him.  If you want to know more check out these:

YouTubeWojtek, the Soldier Bear

Web – The Soldier Bear Story

Did you Know? Chickens


Useless Fact: Chicken cannot swallow when up side down.

Inky Take:  What the hey?  Why would they be upside down in the first place?  More importantly who got the government funding to find this, out?  and for the love of pete, Why?

Picture: George Hodan

Bayou Sauvage #5


Morning light poked through the blinds and seared beneath lashes to go with the pounding of her head.  Groaning she pushed herself up slowly and gingerly touched the side of her jaw, wincing at the dull pain.

‘Looks like it’s gonna be a long day,’ was the observation as large pots banged against one another and then onto a stove top.

Kit winced at the influx of so much noise, ‘Priss,’ her voice begged.

The woman in question turned from adding salt, pepper, and minced garlic into a large pan cheerfully browning sausages and chicken.  She studied the young woman, her gnarled fingers brushing down her pristine apron before waving toward her face, ‘Mavris?’

‘No,’ Kit pushed herself up and leaned for a moment against the nearest wall, ‘No, this conversation’ she cupped her jaw gently, ‘was with Dak.’

Priss snorted and turned back to her pan, ‘same thing’

Kit nodded and reached for a towel wrapping it around her tiny waist, ‘Is Selma in today?’

Priss stood before the stove turning bits of meat frying in her pan,’she’s setting up the tables’.

Kit stood before the prep table and pulled some fresh okra from a bowl and began cleaning it.  ‘Forget that,’ Priss admonished, moving Kit aside with her body, ‘Selma and I will handle it today you go on upstairs and put something on that bruise.’

Dak pressed the weights upwards straining about the heavy metal. Arms fully extended he held it there muscles screaming, until he felt the tell-tale stretch and then slowly lowered the bar back into its holder.  Sitting up he allowed his arms to dangle before him, his hands resting on the lift seat as his mind replayed the look on Kit’s face right before he punched her.  His hands curled into a fist at the memory as he jumped up and moved to the stack gym.  His arms busily worked as his thoughts flooded with images; her slumped body, the bruise blooming on her jaw, the way her head dangled over his arm.  He stopped, the weights dropping with a clang as the last image burned itself behind his eyes.

He’d never hit a woman before that night, still he refused to let one of the others do it, knowing they would not have pulled their punch as he had.  Even so, the last image tore through him and left him raw with anger and desperation.

It was a problem beyond his scope of experience.  He had seen much throughout his career as a mercenary, but nothing had prepared him for a, Mavris.  A vampire, his head shook as the word rattled through his brain.

He stood his head bowed, a towel gripped within his fingers, there had to be a way he would find it; his fingers tightened around the towel – soon, it had to be soon – before he got the order to take Kit.

Photo: found @ windowweb.it/desktop_foto

Word Count: 493