The Madness...

Ok, I know it has been a while since last I posted, but things here have been a little on the crazy side. White has been in a right awful mood because his wife is stuck in the Living world and his bad mood has driven everything mad. The Styx started to rise and we had to sand bag the entire back yard...and do you know how hard it is to sand bag a backyard that is ever-changing. I am so tired. I don't think I have slept a full night in over three weeks. But I think we bagged the last of the backyards and the Styx is holding steady. The cats are going crazy too and the Ferryman won't ferry across the Styx when it is this high so the House is crowded. Fortunately, the House expands to allow for the more guests but Nora is having trouble keeping the dead out of her Kitchen and she has started to allow cats into her kitchen to keep them out. Nora is letting cats in her Kitchen! Sorry, most of you would not understand how frightful this thought is. Nora keeps her kitchen clear and free of cats, dogs and dead people...but here she is letting the cats prowl in the pantry. Grimm is out on assignment of White so it is just Violet to keep me company. She has it in her head that she is going to teach me the piano...well I must be going. Violet is hollering at me. I think I am going to have to practice scales with her again. She is really an obnoxious teacher...

Musing about life

I am not in the habit of writing. I was never one of those girls who kept journals or diaries about my lame life. But since my life is now a rather dead life, I am seeing things slightly differently. Life is only as lame as you make it. Mine was pretty lame. The only pleasures were tormenting Mrs. K and seeing how long it took to blow Mabel's very short fuse--well there was also the tree house we built and swing over the river. But overall I did not enjoy life. I did not take the time to actually smell the roses (I wish I know where that phrase come from). But really don't ask me to tell what roses actually smell like because I don't know and the House of the Dead doesn't have roses. They would all die if it did. I don't know why that is either. Trees grow alright and so do must shrubs but most of flowers grow crooked or not at all and roses well they don't grow at all.

Anyway, now on this side of the life cycle, I have decided that my life will not be lame or boring, not that living with dead could ever get boring. They have all sorts of stories and since they are dead they have no qualm about talking. They seemed to have finally figured out what life meant. I guess I am still trying to figure it out.

An interruption in Life

Well... Violet had been on my case that last few days so I convinced Grimm to host a movie night. The moving pictures are so amazing, Violet never gets tired of them. I am beginning to understand how the TV really is an idiot box. But there are some good things about TV. Grimm has an excellent movie collection. So we are all sitting here watching Arsenic in Old Lace, eating popcorn (well not Violet) and drinking coke (which Violet is allowed to have). This is the third movie this evening. First there was Violet's movie pick; she insisted on watching Snow White for the umteenth time. I never really liked that movie to begin with but since the purpose of the movie night was to amuse Violet...anyway, what made this evening so interesting was that Nora and Hyrum joined us. They never talked to Grim or even let him in the kitchen on a regular bases. But nothing brings people together like old movies. Well...we are about to put in The Thin Man.

Dying to be Normal

What can I say…my life was never normal. Orphans dream of normal, but that is something that they don’t get to have—their parents being dead and all. I always thought my parents were crazy to name me Beatrix, but they did not ask me. Not that they would had they lived long enough to see my first birthday. Sorry, I think I might be sounding bitter. I am not bitter; it is just a fact of my life. And for anyone to understand me, they have to know this fundamental fact—I have never had a family or a place that I called home since I can remember. This changed when I met Mr. White, on my sixteenth birthday. (It was pretty much the best and strangest day of my life). White (which is the only name he has ever given me or anyone) is my godfather, though I don’t think he really wants to be, but the idea could grow on him. My godfather has a rather unique occupation—He is Death and I now live in the House of the Dead with all the souls waiting to cross over the Styx. OK that last statement is not entirely true. I live in the House of the Dead but it is not completely full of dead people. Nora and Hyrum live there as well as Bast, Othinn, Poly, Martin, Emmit and my dear friend Grimm. They work for or with or are Death—I am not sure of the logistics of how immortals and Death really work.

Anyway, the dead mostly stay to themselves…well except Violet. She has or is having difficulty coming to terms with her deaths. She has adopted me or something like that. She thinks that I came from the Living solely to be her nanny. I suppose in the grand scheme of things I don’t mind being her nanny. I mean it is really fun to tease her; she is really touchy about being dead. And her company is not entirely boring. She keeps things interesting. Violet is a permanent fixture in the House of the Dead, sort of like a rug that no one likes but no one can get rid of because it was a gift from the favorite Aunt or something. I am not well versed in the protocol for gifts and such but Nora the Housekeeper explained Violet that way and I sort of liked it.

Anyway, I recently found out that I am the wrong goddaughter or the wrong Beatrix Wynn (Apparently, there was more than one of us with a fairly bad name.) The Fates messed up my fate and her fate…well the other Beatrix is lost. The Fates lost her and I have to find her because the worlds are unraveling…