My Aunt Stella died. She was an amazing woman. I will miss her very much. It’s hard, when someone you love so much, someone you thought would always be there for you, the way she always had been, is no longer going to be here, to not be selfish. Me me me. I am sad. I am wrecked. I can’t stop crying. What she meant to me. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. I guess, if someone helped make you who you are, maybe it should be impossible to speak about them without being self-referential.
Aunt Stella taught me kindness. She was kind to me when others weren’t. She never judged when it would have been easy to condemn. If life became unkind Stella would offer concern. A trait I have tried to copy, sometimes, well sometimes…
I woke up in the middle of the night a few weeks ago and wrote this. I think it’s super cute. Maybe I’ll get an actress friend to do it as a VO??
Hecuba Shoehorn, my neighbor, is always getting into the worst sort of trouble! I typically don’t bother with her much. Since the incident with the lemon tree we remain friends but not as close. Yet, as I heard her making quite a lot of noise the other evening, as she was carrying things back and forth from her house to the woods, I decided to investigate. Curiosity got the better of me, as it almost never does, and I ventured down the path to the woods. I found her having lit 5 torches in a circle of 3 paces in which were stacked quite a lot of men’s boots. This concerned me. Boot burning is banned, as you know, and with the number of elves present I was too concerned that perhaps some darker mischief was at hand. Though I am not sure it gets much darker than boot burning. Hecuba is always getting into trouble. She is not directly responsible for the 70s gas hike, but is for incorrect milk dates and of course summer being used as a verb.
I cleared my throat to announce myself and Mrs. Shoehorn was delighted for my assistance. I was unaware I had offered assistance. Oh no I thought she’s got me in some muck again! Hecuba was transferring these some 22 boots to a friend of her in France. “Why dear?” I asked. “Well” she replied, “I need some of that.. that..that…”