Marriage is a sacred institution – so you should engage in it as often as possible.
– E. Taylor
Sharks gotta swim, bats gotta fly. Peyton’s got to… Well, she’s got to screw up every relationship she can and leave a trail of broken lives in her twisted wake.
No, our marriage is not going as well as I might hope. And I understand that General Custer had a bad day at Little Big Horn.
Do I sound bitter? Yes. Well, I hope to show you why. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? I got married to Peyton Place, as planned. The ceremony went well. Dad, Horta, and my brothers were all there for it, and Peyton was radiant. I really thought she was happy. The more fool I.
This entry was to have been my introduction. It still is, for all that. But what should be a simple, joyous occasion is marred by the sad news I must deliver. My debut announcement is to tell you that my mother, Thrintun Alien, has passed on.
May her spirit ever soar among the stars she so loved.
We have laid her to rest beside my grandfather and grandmother, Motie and Candice.
I’m told that old soldiers never die, they just fade away. I hope the same is true of old astronauts, even though no one famous has ever given that exact quote. I’ve strutted and fretted my hour upon the stage, and hopefully have provided a bit more than just sound and fury. What? You think I’ve never read Shakespeare?
Anyway, as you may have guessed, I’m signing off. Tholian will take over the blog and the house next week. I don’t have to, not just yet, but Dad turned things over to me a little early too, so that much leniency is permitted. There’s no realistic way for any of the other kids to take over from him anyway. As for me, I’m not quite ready to go yet, but age takes its toll on all of us, and on me no less. I look good for an old lady, no doubt, but I am an old lady now and it’s time for the young bucks to take the reins.
So what else is there to say? Plenty. It’s been a good run but it ain’t over just yet.
It really burns my butt to admit this, but my Dad may have had a point. No, not about giving up on researching what we are – that part I’m right about – but about this place being really, supremely weird.
We took a vacation, at long last. But we took that vacation here in Willow Springs, a nice bed and breakfast place. Only thing is, I swear to you that place isn’t here. It’s just not. But we’ve got all the evidence of our vacation, down to the pictures. But I go by there, and it’s just not there anymore. The people I met there, Cathy Tea, Gray, Dr. Jasmine; they aren’t here. As far as I can tell, they just don’t exist. But we all met them – Horta wants a hat like Cathy’s.
Long story short, which I know is not my forte, we had a wonderful time, despite an unfortunate fire while we were there. No one was hurt, so it just became part of the story to retell. Something memorable that will grow each time. Before you know it, we’ll have been escaping from a towering inferno by the skins of our teeth.