Viewing entries tagged
Rabbit Hole Chronicles

Top 10 Favorite Christmas Movies

Top 10 Favorite Christmas Movies

Whether your tastes are for chick flicks or action, classics or new twists, there is a little something here for almost everyone on my top ten list

Coffee is good for you when consumed responsibly... AKA a Fishy Tale


[For daily updates, more pictures, and humor follow me on Facebook and Twitterer (different content posted to each) https://m.facebook.com/sierra.sugar ]


A tale about why coffee is good for you...

We have a salt water fish tank and our fishy eats frozen fish food. Every morning I get up, let the p3 out to go potty, turn the light on the fish tank, and put a cube of the frozen fish food in a cup with some water to melt while I get coffee started. I know. I know! That process of events is backwards. Coffee should always come first. But the other is a better use of time and keeps me from walking in circles. Usually, I fix my cup, then take my coffee along with the plastic cup of fish food to the living room where Lt. Dan (our surviving fish) gets fed and I sit and sip my coffee enjoying the sunshine from the open door. This morning The first part of my routine flowed normally without problem.

That is until I went to fix my first cup of coffee.... I poured my cup of coffee, added creamer and sugar, grabbed the spoon, stirred, picked up the cup to take my first sip and paused. Thank GOODNESS fish food has a fishy smell. I had stirred the fish food and nearly took a long, not so comforting, first sip of.... fish food soup, mixed with creamer and sugar. Talk about gastric disaster. Fish cup emptied and rinsed, new fish food defrosted and fed to Lt. Dan AFTER I had a full half a cup of coffee.

Remember folks... Safety First - Coffee before anything!

~sierra

Humor or Horror in Housework



[For daily updates, more pictures, and humor follow me on Facebook and Twitterer (different content posted to each) https://m.facebook.com/sierra.sugar ]

Remember the Steven King movie (and book) Maximum Overdrive, where all the machines come to life? Or what about The Transformers and the Spark that brings electronics/machines to life? Could that have happened already with our common, everyday house cleaning equipment?

Because I am convinced my dryer is carnivore, or a clothivore, or perhaps just a sockivore!

Why is it every time I do laundry an even number of socks go in but an odd number comes out? Has it somehow had a spark and come to life needing a regular diet of tubular cotton fiber? Perhaps it is seeking a certain flavor, something that reminds it of some far off planetary system it's collective intelligence called home; therefore it keeps trying different socks hoping to find that reminiscent taste? Kind of how we take a bite out of a chocolate and put it back in the box because it wasn't what we were looking for. So the dryer eats only one sock out of a set, deciding it isn't the flavor it wants and therefore leaves the other one untouched? Should I be amused at the daily dietary divergence of my dryer or horrified at the mass slaughter of socks that leaves the twin sock orphaned and alone?

Either way, I am convinced that yes, my dryer does in fact snack on socks, and lint is the undigested remains of said socks.

~sierra sugar

Steampunk the Bird (aka, Happy Rez Day Maxwell Graf)

A faint breeze drifted through the partially opened window carrying in the smells and sounds of the not-so-distant port. The over-sized brass hinges held the weight of the heavy stained-glass pane of abstract design. The sunlight, finished with its game of chase with the clouds, fell upon the window and a cornucopia of color burst through breaking the dusty haze of the workshop, and caused the man inside to lift his head.

Perhaps this was the first time since his day began that he found his mind no longer focused on his never-ending work, only the man himself knew. His concentration broken, he gazed around allowing his eyes to fleetingly acknowledge each of his creations then move on to another. Some were finished, many others in various stages of completeness. All crafted with genuine passion for his trade and a tender touch that comes only from one who’s work becomes so much more to them than a mere means to earn a daily copper.

His eyes focused on the open window just as a breeze picked up and ruffled his mussed dark hair. He sighed softly as the same breeze cooled his skin. Then he heard it, the faint clack-clack whir, clack-clack whir. A  repetitive sound, rhythmic, faint but seemed to be slowly intensifying in volume. Somewhere beyond he could hear the earthy cry of the gulls to the men on the wharf for a bit of food. He could hear the sharp snap of sails being pulled quickly to attention from a gust of wind. And even could hear the deeper sounds that were more thump than clack that the large corkscrew airships made as they hovered above the docks.

But there rising above all the din and bustle of the port was the clack-clack whir, clack-clack whir, and yes it was indeed getting louder. The man removed his half-moon, brass-rimmed glasses then pinched his soft wool shirt around the glass in an attempt to wipe away the dusty splotches that accumulated while he worked. When he placed them back on the bridge of his nose he gave a resigned smirk that for all his efforts, they were still dirty, however the splotches had become smudges. Tonight he’d have to wash them in the basin.

The clack-clack whir, was quite distinct and audible now, and seemed to be approaching the half-opened window. The man maneuvered around various desks and piles of work and stepped to the window to see if he could locate the source of this noisy interruption. Just as he fully opened the second pane of glass a gust of wind blew itself in ruffling his hair more and he heard several sheets of parchment take flight landing against a wall or floor behind him. Then he saw it. The little brass flyer as it mightily flapped its wings and made a bee-line for the window.

He stepped back in wonder and surprise at the flyer with its brass wings ablaze in warm colors from the late-afternoon sun. Clack-clack whir, clack-clack whir, he heard again and again until the little flyer was hovering, rather noisily, above the windowsill. There was a longer whir as the wings retracted and a slight clatter when the minuet flyer landed on the sill with its little brass feet. Much to the man’s amazement its movements were more delicate than normally seen by mechanical contraption, and such the clackity bird placed on the sill a glass-blown yellow rose with intricately crafted brass leaves.

The tiny, wondrous flyer then began a bell-clear chirping as it shook one of its legs at the man. There was a miniature scroll attached with coarse hemp binding to the little flyer's leg and he wanted it off. A single tug unraveled the bow, and the scroll rolled to the window where the man scooped it up before the wind could catch it. Opening the scroll, the man read with a smile.

Dear Maxwell Sir,

As you labor away through your various works and projects, remember to take a moment to catch a breeze, hear the birds sing, appreciate the small things, and smile at the beauty of the day. Today is your day, a mile-marker to be celebrated (or not) as you see fit. Peace and prosperity be with you my friend, as well as happiness beyond measure.

The little bird sang with its bell-like chirps once more then leapt from the sill taking flight back towards the way it had traveled. The man stood quietly, watched and listened as the clack-clack whir faded into the silence of the approaching night and smiled.  

                                                                                                       (c) sierra sugar 10/09/2011

[Just a fun post to wish Maxwell Graf, the creator of Rustica, a happy 5th Rez Day in Second Life.  His works to improve sculpt maps as well as pushing towards a better, more usable Mesh are appreciated by many throughout SL.   Thank you, Max, and very happy rez day!]

Life - The Greatest Show on Earth

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Too Bright

, originally uploaded by

~sierra sugar~

.

Tiny steps echo across a wooden floor and come to a stop.

There is a moment of silence and then the lights come up.

"Over here. No, down a little. There ya go! Kitty center stage.

They say all the world's a stage.

And I say, Forget Barnum and Bailey's, this is it folks. This is the greatest show on Earth, and we're living it.

Except there is no dress rehersal, no retakes, and no scenes left laying on an editing room floor.

Life, is live-action in real time with no commercial breaks.

Everyone has a role, and there is no part too big or too small. Every moment is a vital scene that you alone complete.

So while that spotlight is on you, give it your best, all that you've got. Because you never who's watching and who's heart you might touch, mind you might inspire, or soul you might comfort.

We've only got one chance while the camera is rolling, cause once it stops...

...the rest is silence. "

stage lights fade to black as house lights shine on the rest of the world.

(c) sierra sugar 10/6/2011

Post partially inspired by the tremendous loss of an inspirational man, Steve Jobs, and partially inspired by personal loss in my life.

NEW POSE FROM eMOTIONS - "In the Spotlight" set, "Too Bright"

Skin:[rQ]Pale@TYPE.o4-B.o2 (lightBROW)

Hair: *~*Damselfly*~*Etta II White Pearl

Nails:[ Love Soul ] Prim nails+Ring*baby doll*Silver

Ears:*Dreams* (aka Somnia) Tied with a Bow Snowy White Twitchy Ear

Tail: PN Extreme Corset neko tail

Shirt: A Netherworld - Incantation Corset - Black (J)

Pants: Zaara : Ishaya Velour slacks *black

Necklace:Kunstkammer String of Tahitian Pearls (black)

Bracelet:Kunstkammer Tahitian Pearl Bracelet

Pose: eMOTIONS - "In the Spotlight" set, "Too Bright"

Still Waters

They say still waters run deep.
The surface smooth. The surface calm.
But what you don't see below is the force of those waters, swift and strong. At times a veritable maelstrom of movement below surface warmth. Pushing and pulling from within, and surrounding anyone who manages to find their way inside.

They say still waters run deep.
And there is much more than what is seen reflected back to you. But for most the surface is all they will ever see. It may not always be a peaceful place. But it is my place.

They say still waters run deep. And if you're not afraid to look, you may just find me there. (c) 2010