Author

Jade Walker

Jade Walker has 302 articles published.

Haunted houses

by
ghost

We appear to have a ghost in the new house.

Last weekend, M and I flew to Seattle to celebrate the birthdays of two dear friends. When the weather conspired against us, we were forced to make an unexpected stop in Salt Lake City, Utah, find other accommodations because our HomeAway apartment couldn’t extend our stay and fly home a day later than planned. Luckily, our new pet sitter was willing to schlep through a blizzard to feed and care for Duncan, Dany, Arya, Brigid and George.

During our absence, however, a shade apparently decided to cause some mischief. Upon arriving at our house for a visit, the pet sitter was stunned to discover the door that leads to the garage standing wide open. This is odd for two reasons: one, we always keep it closed since we don’t want the animals going in there, and two, we specifically locked the door before we left town. So how in the world did the door unlock itself and fling open?

No one knows.

Also, since returning home, two eldest cats have begun scratching at the door to the garage, almost as if to request permission to leave (or permission to allow someone in). M swears there are no other animals in the garage — nor wolves in the walls — which leads me to wonder if the ghost has lost his/her key.

Lastly, in the two months since we moved in, I’ve noticed that certain rooms have unexplained cold spots. The previous owner built the house in 1980 and never mentioned anyone dying in it so I have no idea why these chilly areas exist. More investigation will be required.

45 Hours

by
migraine

Forty-five hours. That’s how long my latest migraine lasted. Forty-five hours of searing pain, nausea, exhaustion, dizziness, an inability to think clearly, sensitivity to light and sound, and did I mention, searing pain?

This past weekend has been rough so if I owe you an email, please accept my apology. It’s not you, it’s me.

That said, I’m comforted by two thoughts. First, some people have it a lot worse. Last year, I suffered from two dozen migraines and only a handful persisted for longer than 24 hours (though one did rake me over the coals for three straight days). And while that sucked, at least I wasn’t among the 4 million Americans who suffer migraines every single day.

Secondly, the damn thing has departed. I’m really tired. Like someone ran me over with a Mack truck tired. And my brain is bruised, which means a few of the other symptoms persist and there’s still a ghost of a headache. But, light, the pain is finally starting to fade and for that I am grateful.

“The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus

by
Statue of Liberty

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

This text, also known as the Statue of Liberty poem, is mounted on a plaque inside the pedestal. Photo by Statue of Liberty/Ellis Island Official National Park Service.

“No work would be possible without coffee.” –Henning Mankell, “One Step Behind”

by
Coffee love

When I was in college, I had a pot-a-day coffee habit. The pot was only big enough to hold four cups, but I diligently drank all of them. I did so because I liked the taste of the strong brew, because I liked the jolt of energy I received from the caffeine it contained and because it felt like the adult thing to do. I woke in the morning and drank a cup of coffee. I had another between classes, a third while working in the newsroom and another late at night when I was trying to stay awake long enough to finish my homework.

By the second year of university, I learned — the hard way — that I had a heart condition, one that was exacerbated by caffeine. On doctor’s orders, I gave up java entirely. The palpitations lessened, even more so once I started taking medicine to ease the condition. And I kept working, just as hard as before, only without the liquid-boost I once enjoyed.

I maintained my coffee sobriety in the decades that followed, allowing myself to consume only one or two cups a year. Drinking more made my heart race.

I still desired to fill the air with the delicious scent of newly ground beans and to listen to the music of a fresh brew dripping into a pot, yet I chose to abstain. Nor did I replace these cravings with other addictions; I simply went without and relied on sheer force of will when age or illness caused my energy to flag.

Then, a few years ago, I drank a cup of coffee. And another. The taste was as I remembered, silky and smooth, but this time the rhythm of my heart didn’t skip a beat or pound. Instead, I was able to consume the creamy, sweet and bitter drink for the sheer enjoyment of its taste rather than the necessary jolt of adrenaline it used to provide.

My annual consumption soon turned into a monthly one, then a weekly one. Now I allow myself to drink one cup a day and it is wonderful, all pleasure with no side effects. Well, almost no side effects. For when I drink coffee, the synapses in my brain begin to fire. In these moments, I must write, talk or move. Unlike tea, which has long symbolized quiet, comfort, warmth and relaxation, coffee demands that I go forth and do something.

Which brings me to today. I need to get some unpacking done. Time to make a cuppa joe and get started.

–Photo by se hui(shirley) Kim

Quote of the week

by
angry bronze devil

“I mean, 2016 wasn’t a blip. It was the beginning of something. All the bad news that’s arisen isn’t isolated. It’s part of a pattern. This shit is just getting started. The bump that was 2016 isn’t a hill we’re climbing over. It’s the top of Cthulhu’s head as he emerges from the deep.” —Chuck Wendig

–Photo by FooTToo.

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