UNDER THE WILL… OVER THE DRAMA…

Tag: writing

  • 🐾A Message from Sir Percival…🐾

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    Mae Faurel
    in

    A Turf Shed, a Tyrant, and a Tomcat’s Truth… Message from Sir Percival: Ah, my dear human. I see you’ve returned to the farm, tender, mended, and half-glued together with stitches and stubbornness. A lesser creature would’ve fled. But you? You came home to heal. And what greets you? The unmistakable stench of testosterone and…

  • I’m Here. It’s Messy. And That’s Okay…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Follow up to my last post : Found Out Like a Stranger.. Some days, life blindsides you. You’re pottering along, minding your business, and then something comes hurtling out of nowhere and smacks you straight in the heart. The other day; was one of those days. I found out my aunt died and was buried…

  • Second-Hand Treasures and Bee-Friendly Beds…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Daily Prompt: Are there things you try to practice daily to live a more sustainable lifestyle? Good question. And if I’m honest, yes, though I’d never claim to be perfect at it. I’m not one of those zero-waste gurus weaving my own toilet paper from nettles, but I do what I can in my own…

  • Granny Frass Says…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Granny Frass Says: Some People Would Put The Devil to Shame… Well now, I’ve been minding my own business up here, sipping a drop of strong tea and keeping an eye on things below when word reached me about the latest carry-on. And let me tell you, if I had me old walking stick I’d…

  • Found Out Like a Stranger..

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Found Out Like a Stranger… I am angry and sad tonight. I need to vent.. Tonight, I was talking to my neighbor about a death in his family, and while looking up the notice, I found my aunt’s death notice. My actual aunt. My uncle’s wife. A woman who was part of my childhood. She…

  • The Childhood I Forgot…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    The Childhood I Forgot (for a Reason)… People talk about their childhoods like photo albums. Clear pages filled with birthdays, holidays, games and laughter. Mine? It’s more like fog. Whole chunks are missing. It’s not that I don’t remember anything, it’s that what I do remember, I remember too well. And most of the rest?…

  • The Boss Man, The Mother, and Other Strange Creatures…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    I want to talk about something that’s been sitting in my head today, and maybe it’ll sit in yours too. Sometimes it’s not the loud arguments or the dramatic events that tell the real story of a family; it’s the small things. The choice of a word. The way a person gets referred to. The…

  • Episode 84 -The Boss Man Cometh…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    The Boss Man Cometh: Bully’s Greatest Role Yet… So after I wrote that last post about how people in families use titles to dodge feelings, something else popped into my head. Because if anyone could take a situation as heartbreaking as watching our dad disappear into dementia and turn it into a personal promotion opportunity,…

  • Message from Granny Frass: The Back Yard Drive-Through…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Well now, pull up a cloud and pour yourself a drop of something, because your Granny Frass has her apron in a knot tonight. Word reached the spirit side that Bully did one of his famous little drive-ins again. Rolled right through the yard like some lord of the manor, did a turn, and off…

  • When It Unbalances You…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    You know what frustrates me the most?It’s not the drive-ins.It’s not the spying.It’s not the quiet little power plays people pretend don’t exist. It’s how it makes me feel.How it seeps under my skin, unbalances me, and steals my peace. How I can be pulling weeds, minding my own business, or sipping a cup of…