Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

Jan 27, 2007

Today’s Announcements

Happy Birthday Ina Townsend Young from your friends at Storytime Tapestry: mimisuzy127@yahoo.com

The Writer's Chatroom Writing Contest!


PRIZES:
1st place: $25.00 Cash, Publication in Writer's Chatroom Newsletter and on The Prompt Writer website, and 1 copy of C. Hope Clark's book, "Just Hit Send"

2nd place: A subscription to Total FundsforWriters and publication on The Prompt Writer website

3rd place: 1 copy of Christine R. Senter's book, "Written Promptly Everyday"

Honorable Mention: A critique of your story, provided by Glenn Walker, of Writer Circle fame.


All entries will be published in our forum at least for the duration of the contest.


GUIDELINES:
NO ENTRY FEE!
Genres --All (with the exception of Poetry and R+ rated Language or Adult Content*)
Word Count --500 or under
Theme --New Beginnings (must use one of 10 provided prompts**)
Entry Deadline --March 1st
Announcement of Winners --No later than March 15th

You must be a forum member to enter. There is no charge to join the forum. http://www.writerschatroom.com/forum/

Send submissions to "renee" through our forum PM system. Put your user-name in the subject-line. Do not include your name or any other identifiable information in the text of the submission. Forum members will vote through our forum PM system.

*We reserve the right to reject any offensive material without explaination.
**Prompts are provided by Christine R. Senter and have been posted at: http://writerschatroom.com/forum/viewtopic.php?p=837#837


SPONSORED BY:

C. Hope Clark of, Funds For Writers, Fame: http://www.fundsforwriters.com/  
Christine R. Senter, the Prompt Writer: http://www.thepromptwriter.com/  
The Staff at Writerschatroom: http://writerschatroom.com/  
Audrey Shaffer - http://audreyshaffer.com  
Linda Hutchinson – http://www.lindajhutchinson.com  
Renee' Barnes – http://trailerparkgazette.bravehost.com  
Glenn Walker, founder of Writerschatroom: http://www.comicwidows.com

Donations are needed to help with the operating expenses of running the newsletter and to keep Storytime Tapestry the quality newsletter you are so accustomed to.   

Please note that Storytime Tapestry is a free newsletter to members and there will never be a cost for the newsletter.  Donations are purely voluntary and no member should ever feel guilty for not making a donation at this time.

Today’s Stories

~**~**~

Proof of the Existence of God

by Ina Townsend Young

I was jolted awake to the plaintive strains of Incense and Peppermints.  I lay still for a moment before I reached over and turned the volume up in time to hear that I had little to win and nothing to lose.  I turned on my light and was greeted by Bobby Sherman sweating shirtless on my wall.  The Monkees shared space with him and the other teen idols of the day.  I walked over to my mirror and greeted the day’s new zits.  I bared my teeth at my reflection and braces snarled back at me.  Glancing over toward the window, I saw webs of frost on the inside of the pane which assured me of what I already knew:  today would be another sub-zero day.  The clouds outside sulked grayly in a low ceiling.  The dee-jay announced the imminent arrival of yet more snow.  I was fourteen years old, I didn’t want to go to school and my mood was now set for the day.

I was slowly working my way through my morning ablutions when my mother stuck her head in my room.  “Good morning.  Could you turn your radio down so it doesn’t wake up your sister?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes in the mortally wounded and exasperated manner that teenagers master so well.  “Okay!  Would you just quit nagging me and leave me alone so I can get ready?”  I had found my first target of the day.

“Don’t you snap at me!  Just do as I say and knock off the smart mouth!”

“Just leave me alone and I’ll do it!”  I yelled.

My mother left, knowing it would be fruitless to try to discipline me in the mood I was in, unless she was willing to risk a major explosion before her first cup of coffee.  I grudgingly nudged the volume control down a fraction of a hair and finished dressing.  I brushed my hair back over my shoulder and slicked on a layer of white lipstick.  From the next room, I heard my baby sister, Suzy, cry herself awake.  I guiltily turned my radio down before looking for my shoes and books under my bed.

Downstairs, my guilt over waking the baby turned to satisfaction as I witnessed my mother trying to soothe Suzy’s screams while simultaneously making oatmeal for me and warming a bottle for the baby.  I knew her juggling act was made even more difficult due to her lack of a wake-up cup of coffee.  It was her fault anyhow.  If she hadn’t nagged me about my radio, I never would have left it playing so loud and she wouldn’t have to be holding that screaming baby right now.  Everything was her fault.

She put a bowl of oatmeal on the table for me.  I glared at it.  “I’d rather have that leftover cake for breakfast.”

“You’re not going to school with a piece of cake in your stomach.  Eat your oatmeal.”

“I don’t like oatmeal anymore.  I’m sick of it,” I whined.

“I really don’t care.  Just eat it.”

“No, I won’t.  I’m not the baby in the family anymore.  You can’t just stick food in my mouth and make me eat it,” I snapped.  The look on my mother’s face was enough to tell me that she was about to prove my last statement wrong.  I knew enough to shut up and at least pick at the cereal.

Suzy continued her wailing until Mom finally poked the bottle into her mouth.  She was about to sit down with her coffee when the sound of a horn in the driveway signaled the arrival of the carpool.  Mom hurried to the door to wave to the driver so she would know she had been heard while I grabbed my books in one hand and my coat with the other.  I headed for the door.  “You stop right there and put that coat on, young lady,” my mother ordered.

“I don’t have time!  My ride’s here!” I spat.  I could feel the cold air from the open door working it’s way across the room.

“They’ll wait.  Put your coat on!”

“I would have been ready by now if you’d let me skip that stupid oatmeal,” I snapped as I threw down my books and pulled my coat up over my arms.  The driver honked impatiently.

“Zip that coat up,” my mother sighed.

“I don’t have time!” I screamed back.  Suzy jerked in her playpen and started crying again.

“Don’t push me, now, young lady!  Zip your coat and get out that door!”

I shot the zipper half way up, grabbed my books and headed out the door.  Half way down the icy steps leading down from our front porch, I grabbed the rail and angrily turned back toward my mother.  I knew the watchful eye of the carpool would keep me safe from any maternal backlash.  She would never yell at me in front of others.

“You know, you just feel you have to control me every step of the way, don’t you?  You don’t have any control over your own life, so you have to control everyone else’s”  I knew a smug expression was adorning my face as I carefully picked my way down the icy steps and over the mounds of snow toward the waiting car.  I grasped the cold door handle in my hand as I turned back for one last twist of the knife before making my grand exit.  I really knew how to impress my friends.

“I’ll never make all of the mistakes you did!  I’ll always have total control over my life!”  With that, I roughly yanked the car door open, lost my footing and slid entirely under the car, all in one smooth, effortless motion.

As I lay staring up at the salt and slush covered underside of the car, I became aware of the peals of hysterical laughter coming from the inside of the vehicle above me.  What was worse, I could even hear my mother guffawing from inside of the house.  I felt snow from the driveway in my underwear, and I realized with horror that this was a good indication that my skirt was up around my waist and my pantyhose were ripped.

I slowly backed myself out from under the car while trying to pull my skirt down before I had to stand up.  Everyone in the car was in hysterics.  I sneaked a look toward the house and saw my mother nearly doubled over with laughter.  She was holding her side with one hand and the door frame with the other, trying to keep herself upright as she received her reward for having to be my mother that morning.

I gathered my scattered schoolbooks and slid my wet behind into the backseat of the car.  When the driver had calmed herself enough to handle the car again, she backed out of the driveway to take my thoroughly humiliated and chastened self, along with my still giggling friends, to school.

This, my mother contends, is absolute proof of the existence of God.

Ina Townsend Young

mimisuzy127@yahoo.com

~**~**~

Chakra Energy Centers

Robin Lee

Intersection Of Energy And Spirit

Simply put, chakras are energy centers in our bodies. Most people cannot see them, much like we cannot see the air we breathe, but we all have them. Imaging them as spinning vortexes of energy radiating from your body out into the world. Each major section of your body holds channels for your energy to flow and at the intersections, the channels meet, and these are your chakras; when these are flowing and open you will reap the benefits of good physical and mental health, when they are closed or unbalanced we may be open to illness and upset emotions.

The human body has 7 major chakras flowing from your spine to the top of your head. Each chakra responds to a particular color, scent, gemstone, sound and emotion.

Indian scholars began long ago to explain these energy centers through their profound practice of body awareness. Many other cultures have pursued similar possibilities in examining human energy channels and centers - they are a widespread concept around the world. In Yoga and a variety of healing arts, practitioners use the chakras for an array of beneficial purposes.

The chakra system is highly dynamic and is connected with your thought process, breath, meditation, and movement. Understanding one's own energy points can be hugely beneficial in healing, practicing mediation, yoga, and generally bringing about a more complete sense of self-awareness. The power is within each of us to turn up the voltage and radiate our chakra energy.

Robin Lee

onespiritx3@yahoo.com

~**~**~

Poetry Corner

~**~**~

NO GOODBYES

Barbara J. Williams

I lost my most precious gift from God today.

A gift that, God gave oh so special to me.

Yes, I lost a most precious and loving gift today.

But I know that someday, my gift I’ll see.

As they left, they took a part of my heart with them.

You see my baby went home to be with God today.

And I miss them when I wake up and when I go to bed.

I miss all the wonderful love they always gave away!

I know that some day we will all be together once again.

I hold that promise because God said that it would be.

I will hold you my baby once more in my loving arms.

And your loving smile and laughter once again I will see.

Things here are not the same with out you my little one.

There is an empty place in my heart I can’t seem to fill.

You are not lost my sweet little one for you are with God.

I will see you again my baby for I promise to stay in Gods will!

So little one this is not goodbye for goodbye means the end.

There is no end to Gods child’s love of my heart and soul.

I will see you each day as I walk on here with our Lord.

I know that when God will call me home and I will be whole.

I love you my little one. I will hold you always in my heart.

Forever and always you’re Mother.

Written for those who have lost a child no matter what the age they might have been.

Written by Barbara J. Williams

January 12, 2007

barb242@swbell.net

~**~**~

Dreaming Of A Reward
Tim Kevin

I lay awake forever just thinking of you,
Seeing in mind the twinkle in your eyes
Always hearing the sensuous laughter too
An suddenly feeling your kiss of surprise
-
And it sets my whole person afire
The gentle curve of your breast
To kiss an caress always a desire
Stirring passions to taste the rest
-
Your touch makes me tingle
And to unconsciously respond
Wanting our juices to mingle
In one wildly passionate bond
-
Reaching for that lovely treasure
Wildly seeking to reach it together
That orgasmic pinnacle of pleasure
Wishing to hold that moment forever
-
Staying entwined a little while longer
Seeing our souls deep within our eyes
Softly kissing, holding on to each other
Both in rapture after capturing our prize
-
by Irish Warlock

irishwarlock@webtv.net 
-
Copyright © 2004 - Irish Warlock, All Rights Reserved.

Readers Feedback

  Hi Carol,

Thanks for posting my poems............it is always an honor to have my work
on your site. Carol Meeks

Carol, Simon Cowell owns (or at least partly owns) the show. He knows how to get attention. He obviously got yours.

Cheers

Bill

 Answer:  Bill I know that but I don’t watch the show for Simon Cowell, I watch it for the singing. Frankly I wish Simon wasn’t there.

Carol,
    That was a good column.  I never watch the early part of American Idol
because I think it is just
an exercise in cruelty.  They really only put some of these people in front
of the judges so they can
be ridiculed.  When we get down to 12 then I will start to watch and share
in the joy of song and spirit that is the heart of the show.  keep up the
great work and don't let the Simons of the world get to you.  Wishing you
every joy, Joe

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