surly: having a darkly domineering appearance that is meant to intimidate and deter something or someone’s actions
If You Don’t Want to Go to Sleep, Close Your Eyes: Chapter 4
…The air pushed hard against me as I flew straight up through the thickening clouds. They thundered and shuddered my whole body. My new wings flapped open as if they had always been there. The ground melted out of sight. Bright light surrounded me. I wished Mother could see this. I tried to slow down to feel the damp clouds, but a strong wind seized me. I sank. I sank up.
Sensory Word of the Week | selcouth
adjective / sel-kooth /
Has a vague but indefinable familiarity. Not clearly evident or well known. Possibly even silly in nature.
If You Don’t Want to Go to Sleep, Close Your Eyes: Chapter 3
…”Wake up, Sera! You’ll break all the pots!” The fog in my head told me it was too early for this. I must have really done it now. Mother poked hard at my leg hanging over my bed. I tried to shake her hand away, but I fell over right onto the floor. I searched the room to get my bearings. The barbed baskets seemed a bit lower this morning.
Sensory Word of the Week | fuzzy
adjective /fuhz-ee/
(Touching) Covered in short fur or having an unclear surface
(Seeing) Blurry and difficult to identify
(Patterns & Shapes) Having unclear or blended edges where assumptions are made
(Emotions) Warm and sentimental
If You Don’t Want to Go to Sleep, Close Your Eyes: Chapter 2
…The path home was a cold and dark one. I wouldn’t miss this long walk. Maybe things would be better when spring came. The sky was dark as clouds gathered, hiding the starlight. I kicked off my dusty shoes outside our home and went inside. Mother tied down the last wrap over the top of the roof. I had left it open since the last moon. Tonight’s Hunger Moon had grown full, but I could not see its light.
Making Madness: The Story of 2022 so far
Journal along with us this year as we work through the new sensory knowledge journal, Making Madness. We will start at the most reasonable place of course, the beginning. This vintage-style guided journal opens with a short 6-page section for recording a few paragraphs about how the year of 2022 has gone for us so far. The calendar, which we’ll work through next, starts in May when the freshness of spring urges us to start anew. We are making notes about life happenings from about January to now, the beginning of May.
This year has been a whirlwind ever since the sun set on New Year’s Eve. I’m flipping through my worn-out agenda book from the past year and old phone photos to refresh my memory for this little prelude section of the guided journal. We did get a southern snow in mid January down here in the state of Georgia this year. We built a snowman with frozen beef jerky for a nose, since we were plumb out of carrots at the time. The snow cover was gorgeous on the trees and we couldn’t help but get out and enjoy our short time with the powdery snow that day…
Sensory Word of the Week | ambrosial
adjective /am-broh-zhuhl/
(Smelling) Having a luscious fragrance worthy of the gods
(Tasting) Extremely pleasant and delicious flavor
(Hearing) Exceptionally harmonious to the ear
If You Don’t Want to Go to Sleep, Close Your Eyes: Chapter 1
…The Northern Lake had been receding a little more each year since we had settled in the quiet village of Sleep to raise and trade uruses and the milk they made. The water was almost gone. Most of the others had taken their herd south before the winter, where the lakes were still full. The families who chose to stay in Sleep were muffled by their uncertainty. Why were they still here?
Sensory Word of the Week | variegated
adjective /ˈver.i.ə.ɡeɪ.t̬ɪd/
(Patterns & Shapes; Colors; Seeing) A design with distinct streaks, marks, or colors;
(Smelling) An area with patches of scents;
(Tasting) Having a variety of flavor pockets;
(Touching) Having streaks of different textures