title: one last gift from a ghost store
location: Blue Mtn. Mall (10/30/25) superimposed with Wubble Moll (c.2017)
model: Peppre A. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFejbwR2XfE
Category Archives: Blue Mountain
00470411
—–
He went straight to orange like his mama told him to.
“How much, Dimmy?” asked Marilyn M. the shop attendant eyeing him from the front desk while cutting cloth for an order.
Dimmy fished around in his pockets and pulled out the two bills he’d brought with him and held them up for Marilyn to see.
“No, Dimmy,” Marilyn replied patiently, use to such dimness from the now not-so-young boy. Boy in mind, man in body. The former will probably never grow up. “I mean, how much thread do you want — string, as you put it? 5 meters? 10?” She had 10 meters of cloth in her own hands now. Time to cut again, SNIP.
2 football fields, he remembered. Mama told him 2 football field’s worth. So he asked Marilyn how much that was.
“Well, that’ll be 200 yards worth of thread. That’s a lot. Are you sure you want that much? That’ll take more than 20 bucks but, tell you what, I’ll give you 200 feet for exactly that price.” Wanda needed to get home to feed the young’n’s. She wanted to wrap this up with the dimwitted man-boy, as in wrap the needed thread up and send him back home himself. She figured his mama told him feet instead of yards for that particular number since that would be priced around the 20 dollars she gave him. He just got the terms confused when converting them to football measurements in his head on the walk over. Dimmy — kind of knows his football but not much else. 2nd string fullback for the Newtown Fighting Newts. With his physical talent he could have been a star. But, you know, the mind…
Without more words, he handed over the bills.
His mother watched him walk through the front door without the needed bag and became furious. “TOYS,” she barked. “You forgot the TOYS. Or did you misplace them on the way home? Did you even get the string?” Dimmy, use to such outbursts but still hurt by the stinging words, pulled out the wrapped thread from his back pocket. “Well, at least you did THAT much. I can make my line across 1 2 3 4 gullies but I can’t position toys along the way. What am I going to DO with you, Dimmy Gene? Your father, God rest his soul, would be SO disappointed in you now.”
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0411, Blue Mountain, County Park, Haze County, Jeogeot, Newtown
00470410
“And so that’s how the crash occurred, and for what reason. You should have figured this out long before. Blue Boy.”
Blue Boy? he thought. OH, she thinks I am…
—–
… a different person now, thought older and more mature Newt. I am no longer Pepi – Can – Kolya, he counts them off individually on his desk beside his steampunk computer, old like him but still quite functional for his needs. He likes the way the dimensions of the monitor seem ideal to display full screen versions of his blog pictures (for example).
“Sir? (pause) Sir?”
“Oh yes, young Fink,” he finally comes out of his daydreams and acknowledges the boy’s presence. “Heading home again?”
“No sir. Just arrived. It’s 4 o’clock.”
“Oh.” Newt looks at his watch; still not on his arm, though. 4 indeed. Not 7. Where didn’t the time fly? ha ha, he thinks with a laugh. “Heading upstairs, then?”
Yes sir,” said Fink. “With your permission of course.”
“Of course — our arrangement. You show up at 4, go upstairs and use my attic computer for 3 hours, come back down here and say goodbye at 7 along with a bit of a chat, and then you return to your treehouse home to do stuff with pal Jake while Wheeler and I enjoy our TV shows before my bedtime.”
Fink was thinking: he and Wheeler have different bedtimes? Interesting. But of course said nothing about this. Instead:
‘Yes sir.” And before he took his leave he decided to remind Newt that the mechanical contraption Bimbo from their native land of Oooooo will FINALLY be arriving tomorrow afternoon after a 4 month delay.
After a significant pause while Newt still stared at the screen before him, he said, “right, right,” and moved to shut the door on the young human. “You’ll excuse me, Fink. Sensitive material on the computer now. Not for young eyes. Goodbye. We’ll talk at 7.”
And then he went back to his desk to have a bit of a weepie. He’ll miss the fellow!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0410, Blue Mountain, County Park, Haze County, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, NVFS
00470408
She turns away from it and looks down into the Ratskeller. One of the Eighty-eights and town manager Rag Doll, also known as Evelyn Hart, are waiting. Dare she go sit with them? She could still run away. They seem to have not spotted her yet at the top of the stairs. But she’d been studying that painting with cashmere robed Shelley for a while. They could have looked up here when she didn’t notice. Can’t take a chance, she realized. That’s how town rumors and gossip get started. And she’d had enough of that already in this place full of time and space.
But it wasn’t just one of the Eighty-eights down there. It was 2 of them, Eight and Eighty together. She’d imagined seeing Rag Doll aka Evelyn Hart all along, all this time while both glancing down there and simultaneously studying De Boy’s painting up here with Shelley. What gives?
—–
“I’m here to see the manager,” he said to Sue Anne the counter attendant of the moment. She waves her arm in the direction of the only other person in the diner while saying, “How about the owner?”
Promotion, ahh. Rag Doll aka Evelyn Hart was not in the same position Alessandra (= white-clad Wheeler) assumed she would be in this town of New.
She dug right into him. “You were suppose to turn right at the can. What *happened*?”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0408, Blue Mountain, County Park, Haze County, Jeogeot, Newtown
00470313
“I always wanted to break down the 4th wall,” Alice responded when I asked her if she liked her new home in the woods. “Now I can speak directly to you, the observer! We have no barriers between us.”
“Ka,” exuded Ka to her left, also joyful. “Skwi,” squeaked Skwi in glee to her right. If Mistress Alice is okay with this then her pet cat and squirrel respectively are too. Let the Flathardt experience commence!
Oh. I guess I should explain where we are. It’s a bit difficult. Let’s just move around and see who else is here and I’m sure everything will become crystal clear as soon as possible.
“Where do you want the Big Arm,” issued Ted the dump truck driver, tired from a long journey across upper Woodlawndia to get here.
“Just over there. Beside the Big Banana,” said pointing Pinky, sort of a manager here I suppose and dependent on outside help until the village gets its own fleet of trucks and drivers. “Ellie, give him a, er, *hand* if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing,” the elephant said after they all had a chuckle over the joke, even tired Ted, although he laughed the least. Still about 5 seconds.
Not really becoming clear yet… oh, here’s another group to investigate.
“This giant frog skin is soo smooth and colorful,” gushes Pantomime Penny to her father or perhaps her brother.
“Don’t touch it,” he says down to her. “Warts,” he summarizes. I was thinking poison and I believe by the look the lamb is giving him she did too.
Well, let’s just back up, zoom out. Out out out.
There we are. That grove of green pine trees, with undergrowth consisting only of rhododendron which you can’t really see from the air. And, most remarkable, despite this being the top of a hill, all land in this grove is completely and utterly flat. Hence the name Flathead, as in flat head of a hill. Plus that whole Montana thing we’ll get back to in a while.
The toy avatars that are already here debated whether to name their new community the same as the hill, Flathead, or instead go with Flatheart, meaning the heart of the hill since their community is much smaller than Flathead itself and in the basic center or “heart” of everything. At least in their eyes. They settled on a portmanteau of sorts: Flathardt, 1/2 head 1/2 heart (kind of). And one of the more vocal citizens at the meeting was a big Dale Earnhardt fan and owned a #8 toy race car in his honor (see right of frog above). So that probably played a role in the compromise name too.
What next for Flathardt? I’m guessing toy train tracks, since I’ll be the one hauling them up here and laying them down. I wanted to bring the tracks up today but I couldn’t find them in the junk heap that is our basement. So I settled for some other toys. Hopefully tomorrow, then. Weather should be okay again.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0047, 0313, Blue Mountain, Flathardt, Google Street View, Toy Avatars, Yards Mountain
00410307 (the 1st Haze County entry (!))
Station attendant Ginger directed Marsha to a large square map hanging on the back wall. “So it is Lucky,” she said to herself, looking at the name of the nearby motel on the map. Just down the tracks as it turned out.
But in the unaltered reality, it wasn’t.
Mouse was right all along.
—–
“NC,” she said, staring up again. Could be either one still.
And then she walked inside the property to see what up. A considerably younger Octavia Tart awaited her appearance.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0307, Blue Mountain, Google Street View, Haze County, Paper Soap, Soap
00400611
“I still have a home on Nautilus. It was a retirement gift — very pretty there. Lots of vegetation.”
Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, still dealing primarily with bodily fluids but hoping to graduate to full blown psychiatry soon, looked at his e-machine and gauged this was true. “Describe… gift,” he decided to say.
It was the end of 31 and it was the end, period. March 1 of last year, 12:01 AM we’ll say. Eddie D’Aigle, who sometimes preferred D’Aigle, Eddie, especially if he was traveling in the Orient, had just retired from the private sector of the records management business, having made his fortune archiving the files of rock stars Ozzie Osbourne, Ozmo Daredevils, and the like. His last blog article for the latter, the last he did overall, was about how the song “Jackie Blue” was changed from “Jackie Pink,” which drew the attention of Pink, Marsha, Krakow. He had the evidence before him as he wrote: the altered lyrics, everything. “It was suppose to be about a man who peddled drugs during the day while working nights as a bartender, a very Dada affair,” he reinforced to her in a reply email, then, seeing her avid interest, invited her up to [Blue Mountain] to look at the actual, revised lyrics herself. “Come with your driver’s license or a birth certificate,” he said, “and our staff will bring the whole box out to you; I’ll put it on reserve and not reshelve. You can look at one file at a time, and just mark what you want copied with green (START) and red (STOP) paper we’ll provide.” She ended up photocopying the whole box. New 3d scanner the office just purchased did the trick in a 10th the time it would have taken the old fashioned way. Marsha’s, in fact, was the first request accomplished using that method. Boxy Marsha, she went down in office legend as. Prototype. Especially since Eddie, on his last day of work, helped her tote the (wrong?) box to her still hot pink car, soon to change to yellow. Thanks to what was inside. In many ways, she became the box she requested, a black and white facsimile of herself.
TOM — Top Of Mountain — revisited/ ring found
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0108, Blue Mountain, City Park
00380615
One last look around…
… before heading inside the pyramid again.
“He left the marbles and globes, Hucka. Spheres all.
“The bees are gone, I assume — he covered their formerly very active hole with rocks. He was planning a fire pit before I came along. No more threats there.”
“No.”
“*There* you are.”
“This was important,” she explained, leaving out the, “unlike most of your chattering.” Thanks, Hucka!
“So… should I return the toys?”
“Dot dot dot,” she answered. I knew what she meant.
But did I *really* know what she meant?
Thing is, there was another toy at Aloha and it wasn’t my own. Singular, unlike my many. Toy. Was he embarrassed? The Son of God, the founder of a potential religion like Xianity, with *that*? It was a bizarre sight. I couldn’t figure out what it was, yet all my toys were all around it that I had to pick up and gather together for moving. I couldn’t miss it; it stuck out, see. It was lying in the sun, soaking in the sun. Siren. Muse, even. You make do with what you have to. You are all alone in the woods. Time to bring back Thomasina, the pyramid itself.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0615, Blue Mountain, City Park, Lands End, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Rim Isles, Toy Avatars
00380416
A flat place to rehab my back and still get away from it all. A void space between Haze County’s 2 primary towns of Blue Mountain and Boulder. A home away from home of sorts. Jenny Lane, all grown up as it were and lacking in signage if not tell-tale weeds.
Won’t be there forever; trying to enjoy while I can. Got a reading tree which is apple, etc. Wedding chapel just beyond one end…
… Barney car just beyond the other. Barney car! We’ve been here before.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0416, Blue Mountain, Boulder
Sunklands 