Category Archives: Estate


There wasn’t much in the way of art in Heartsdale to Mabel’s disappointment. One gallery showing mainly soft core erotica — well, a lot of it wasn’t even erotica, just women posed in various suggestive manners, let’s say. But there were some other types of works mixed in here and there, like this painting called simply “Dancer” that Mabel kind of liked. And this one below named “Country Road”. When visiting, Mabel sometimes imagined traveling down this picturesque road — outta here (like in that old John Denver song).

In Collagesity, there were rumors that you could actually go inside Baker B.’s collages to different Real Lyfe locations. Maybe the same could apply here, she thought.


The town had plenty of empty buildings and apartments. Mabel again wonders what it looked like in its more golden days. When it was closer in time to Collagesity. When did the split occur? Does it have something to do with the house? *Their* house? It must be, Mabel concluded some time ago.


Mabel had begun to smoke. “2 packs of Lucky Stripes, Jim,” she requests to the owner of the town’s lone convenience store. “And a couple of snickers.” It was a habit born mainly of, well, boredom. Not much to do in Heartsdale, as you the reader have probably picked up. Buurb worried about her continued health, but he figured it would turn around once she had her house. Then they would be focused on fixing it up, showcasing it even for the rest of the community. Maybe open a gallery in part of the downstairs. Mabel could paint up on their favorite floor, the 3rd. Scenes of town, even. She would turn around, he believed. Returned immersion in art would aid immensely. The parts of Heartsdale that seemed sour or boring would have new light shed upon them. It all revolves around the house.

Mabel returns to their alley apartment, planning to light one up as soon as she got inside.

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale

“When in Rome”

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Filed under *Second Life, collage, Gaston

… witch

“What are you doing out there silly?” speaks Burrb through the window pane at his wife. “You’re 15 minutes late — can you hear me?” Mable nods. “You’re 15 minutes late,” he repeats.

“I was trying to find the diary,” her muffled voice sounds from outside.

“The dairy?” he playfully replies and smiles. “Down the road and to your right.” But Mable wasn’t in the mood for games and just indicates the book with the hand in her hand and goes around to the front door to enter.

30 minutes later, Mabel had spilled the wine about Mid Hazel, Karoz Blogger, Precious Snowflake, and the Ohno sim in general.

Buurb demanded a field trip.


“Still here, Mabel.”

But they weren’t going to ascend that hill to the haunted Palmer Lodge in the middle of the night.

Oh no (sorry).

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale, Purden/Snowlands

storied house 02

It was a beautiful house, but quite prim heavy at 195li. And that’s unfurnished. Impractical, most likely, to set up in present day Collagesity except on a temporary basis. And Mabel wasn’t going to go *back* without it, I don’t think. So it looks like they’re stuck in Heartsdale for a while longer.

Although well beyond its glory days, the town still retained some interesting landmarks. There was the coffee and sweets shop on the corner of Blown Apart and West Anglia. This is Mabel and Buurb’s favorite table within they’re sitting at here, with the great view toward their house (their house??). Mabel usually only drinks coffee. Buurb sometimes gets a whole wheat danish roll, like today. Mabel knew there wasn’t any use in trying to change Buurb’s mind over leaving, so she instead talked about New Island and how they got here. She sometimes read her associated diaries to Buurb late at night while they, let’s say, sipped cognac and munched on taffy popcorn.

It all revolved around the vinyl version of “Sometime in New York City” and the void in the center of Lennon’s solo career it represented. Slavery? That’s what they often discussed, and, yes, occasionally argued about. Very occasionally. For Mabel was against slavery of any kind in any fashion. Buurb made some qualified exceptions.

“Take the South after the Civil War,” he said today after taking the first bite of his roll and then setting it back on the small plate.

“No, don’t go there,” his wife demanded, also wishing her husband wouldn’t speak with his mouth full.

He chewed and swallowed; lightly smacked his lips. “Given 5, 7, 8 years, don’t you think President Lee would have freed the slaves himself? And the South might have been better going that route. Take carpetbaggers…”

“I *said*, I don’t want to hear it.” She ‘d have nothing negative spoken about Stove Top Lincoln. Andrew The Tailor Johnson, however, was often open for potshots. But she wasn’t in the mood this morning. She kept thinking about the house across the street. It was and wasn’t their house; another quandary. They were married there, true. But they also still lived in the trashy alley that followed from Old Church Street beside it across St. George Street at its front. The sale hadn’t been finalized. And the mortgage would be 2 full months’ wages between them (!). Could they really afford it? Were they digging a financial grave they would never emerge from? But the house! So perfect. If I could just get it to Collagesity, Mabel thought, we’d have a piece of property with no attached tax, no attached anything; that’s how things work there.

“Look at Pitch Darkly,” she said to Buurb another time on this subject. “Look at Woody (Woodmanson). Refuges… like us. The Bakers take them in, make sure they’re wanted and provided for. You’d like The Bakers, Buurb.”

“I knew Baker Blinker,” he corrected. “Or I at least knew someone who claimed to be her.”

“Oh yes,” Mable said, a pang of jealousy crossing her heart. Her Heartsdale heart. “Precious Snowflake.”

Because she was still around. We’ll revisit her soon and find out more of her story.

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale

storied house

“It’s stronger than I remember, Buurb. If it wasn’t for this house…” Mabel trails off here, thinking of possibilities.

“We’re not ready to go out,” counters her husband. They were married in the backyard of this very structure last year, but it had been added onto since. 3 floors now, with this being the topmost.

“Collagesity needs us,” states the wife. “Needs my — our energy.”

Buurb shakes his ponytailed head. “We wait and see what happens in the center of the Atoll continent. We wait for Nascera. We wait for the chess game to proceed. We wait.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale


But instead Buurb finds himself heading left, toward the freebies library at the end of Lost Heaven Road. What to buy today? he considers. Maybe something for Mabel this time.


Yes, more bean stew for Mabel. He loves that stuff. And — Buurb couldn’t resist — a Green Lantern mini-avatar for himself, hehe. He can hear his wife now: “You’re *such* a Sheldon.”

Bill (Wheeler again) couldn’t figure it out. Why would this mysterious Ellen insist on going first and then make such a weak opening move? She counters with her own weird kind of opening: Pawn to Queen 4. Because at this rate she was going to win in 13 moves or less. Anyway, she’d check back tomorrow and see if Ellen had stopped by to play again. Poor girl; maybe not the brightest of us all.


But Bill was wrong about that.

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale, Heterocera, Iris, Nascera

present future

Bill (Wheeler) came back to Collagesity to retrieve some tweezers and got chills while standing in front of the town library and staring at this view down Old Cannon Road toward the Rubi Woods.

Time to head home again, Buurb thinks.

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Filed under *Second Life, Heartsdale, Heterocera, Rubi