UNDER THE WILL… OVER THE DRAMA…

Tag: #Under The Will Over The Drama

  • Mae, Medb, and Me.. Granny Frass comes through…

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    Granny Frass on the Name Mae… Well now, Mae… isn’t it gas how you think your name is just a neat little variation, like a shorter skirt on the same old dress? Don’t fool yourself. That name is stitched together with more thread than you know. Molly was mine, Mary after me, and Mae is…

  • How Ideas Find Me (Whether I Like It or Not)…

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    Where Do My Quare Ideas Come From? Someone asked me the other day where I get my quare ideas for my posts. Now, I wish I could tell you there was some grand, mystical process. I sit in a candlelit room, summoning the muses while wearing a flowing robe, and they whisper inspiration into my…

  • Message from Beyond -Granny Frass..

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    “Granny Frass Says: Step Away from the Clouds”… Well now, Mae girl… I’ve been keeping an eye on you this week, and I swear, your head has been spinning like the clothesline in a gale. You’ve been hopping from one thought to another so fast, I’m dizzy just watching. First, the weather. Lord save us,…

  • The Day a Butterfly Went Bargain Hunting…

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    When Butterflies Walk Through the Door… I was in the charity shop yesterday, doing my usual, folding, tidying, chatting away, when a butterfly just floated in through the door. Not in a hurry, not panicking like some stray wasp… no, this one was gliding like it owned the place. Last year, I saw none. Not…

  • Episode 99 – Field Guide to the Narcissistic Sociopath …

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    Field Guide to the Narcissistic Sociopath (Faurel Hill Variety)… Scientific Name: Egomax Controlus.Common Name: Bully.Habitat: Inherited property, family disputes, and anywhere rules are optional. Prefers environments where he can loom. Distinguishing Features: Inflated sense of self visible from 100 yards.Smirks when confronted, vanishes when accountable.Eyes scan for opportunity, not connection.Immune to empathy, sympathy, and basic…

  • Who’s Messing with the Big Tap in the Sky?…

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    You can say what you want, but I believe the weather here is controlled. Don’t give me the ‘It’s just the Atlantic’ spiel, I’ve lived under this sky long enough to know it’s not just random. My phone pings: ‘Rain stopping in 30 minutes.’ And sure enough, like clockwork, it stops. I barely have time…

  • The Stranger at The Funeral – Part 2 …

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    The Spin Cycle… The night after we buried Dad, it was just Bully Junior and me. I cracked open a bottle of wine and poured a glass for him. He said he wasn’t feeling well. We sat in silence. Not peaceful silence, just blank space. Grief. Tension. Avoidance. Then off he went to bed. I…

  • Under the Will… Over the Tea ☕

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    Two Mugs and a Bit of Peace… Yesterday I sat at my kitchen table with a proper mug of tea, not one of those delicate cups you have to pinch with your fingers and drink like you’re in Downton Abbey, a real, weighty mug you can wrap your hands around. It struck me that the…

  • Cracks That Let the Truth In…

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    If I’m honest, I don’t think I started my blog with some grand plan to change the world. I started it because I needed to say things I couldn’t say out loud. But as it’s grown, I’ve realized something: we need the truth. We need the raw, unfiltered stories, not the polished ones dressed up…

  • Sir Percival Ponders…

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    Sir Percival Ponders: Paw-litics, Plandemics & the Purr-suit of Truth… By Sir Percival, Tomcat of Truth, Archduke of the Afterlife. Well well well… she’s been thinking again. Always dangerous when a woman starts seeing past the curtain, isn’t it? I’ve been watching from the Great Beyond, curled up on my celestial windowsill, tail twitching in…