Since the rest of the family has posted this thing...

Go here and reload until you get five quotes that sum up your philosophy or outlook, then post them.

The more I want to get something done, the less I call it work.
Richard Bach

Dive into the sea of thought, and find there pearls beyond price.
Moses Ibn Ezra, Shirat Yisrael

Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens.
Epictetus (55 AD - 135 AD)

Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

Experience suggests it doesn't matter so much how you got here, as what you do after you arrive.
Lois McMaster Bujold, "Barrayar", 1991
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Stolen from nearly everyone

I've given my characters a healthy dose of Veritaserum and now they have to tell the truth. What does this mean for you? Ask my characters questions about anything and everything and they will truthfully answer it. So, go ahead and ask what you want. He can't beat around the bush with half-truths.

Emotions Running High (Charloft 6/11 Drabble Prompt)

We've all seen the meme: Pick an emotional state and I'll write you a drabble featuring my character and yours. Now here's your chance to pick a situation and and write that drabble with your character flying solo.

Flint Creek Ranch, June 12th, 2009


Her hands deftly diced potatoes and beat eggs. To help her extremely pregnant sister-in-law, Cait was fixing breakfast for her family and the men who called Flint Creek's bunkhouse home. The stable hands proved to have nearly púca-sized appetites.

Collecting dirty dishes, she found Laine already at the sink. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

Laine rolled her eyes. "Don't you start fussin'. I'm just fii-" Her words cut off in a gasp as she bent over the counter.

Enough of that. "To bed with you. I'll handle this." When she saw Laine stumble on the stairs, Cait touched her medallion. Tadhg...

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Muse: Anraí, Cait, Tadhg, Rory and Ruairí MacEibhir
Fandom: The Grey Horse by R.A. MacAvoy
Word count: 500, 100 each

Celebrate (rp for rein_it_in)

Laine's requests for ways to celebrate her birthday had been simple. A day without having to fool with anything in the kitchen. A nap in the middle of the bed free from both dogs and her husband, nothing but her body pillow and some peace and quiet. It really didn't take much to make his wild woman happy.

Anraí had been quick to comply, cheerfully ignoring the slightly boggled looks that made up the hands' usual reaction when he wound up in the kitchen. If they were smart, they'd pick up some tips, if not ... well, he had other concerns that day. The dinner he produced wasn't overly fancy-- beef stew, green salad, and some fresh-from-the-oven dinner rolls --but it was all made from scratch and with care, as was the apple crunch in the oven.

And, being Anraí, he'd just had to come up with a little something extra in the way of presents. A small wrapped jeweler's box waited by Laine's plate. He'd asked Tadhg if he could come up with something close to the blue of Laine's eyes, and little brother had come through with flying colors. His remaining present wasn't anything tangible, but he hoped she'd like it. In her way, she'd certainly pushed hard enough for it.

He checked the stew. Another half-hour, he could let Laine sleep for that much longer. If she wasn't up by then, he'd go see how she was doing.

The Five Question Meme, from my better half

1. Leave me a comment saying anything random, like your favorite lyric to your current favorite song. Or your favorite kind of sandwich. Something random. Whatever you like.
2. I'll respond by asking you five personal questions about your character/muse so I can get to know you better.
3. Update your LJ with the completely honest answers to the questions.
4. Include this explanation and offer to ask someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be asked, you will ask them five questions.

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Hiding in Plain Sight (rp for sand_andwater)

Takes place a couple of days after this post.

"So ... how is she holding up?" Anraí leaned against Tumbling Dice's stall door and watched as Cait stroked Jagger's nose. The gelding's placid acceptance of his sister's attentions had caused plenty of amazed comments from Flint Creek's hands, but right now neither Cait nor Jagger were Anraí's main concern.

"Pippa is coping," Cait replied, not needing to ask whom her brother was asking after. "Yes, she's stressed, and yes she's had some nightmares, but she's coming out of herself." Sighing softly, she gave Jagger a last pat and walked to stand by her oldest brother. "Of course she'd cope even better if she'd stop beating herself up for things that are in no way her fault. Not entirely unlike someone else I could mention." The look she gave him was pointed enough to make him fidget.

Not his fault, no. Not his fault for looking so much like Pippa's abductor that she flinched away from him without meaning to. Not her fault either, but that didn't change the fact that she was hurting. Anraí raked fingers through his dark hair in frustration. "It's not beating myself up, really. It's just ..." He let his words trail off into a sigh of his own.

"You want to make things easier for her, and you don't know how." Cait tucked her hand into his and squeezed. "Believe me, biggest brother, I understand. But you--" Swinging around in front of him, she offered an infectious grin. "--have enough on your plate with getting married. We'll make sure Pippa has a good time at this hen night Margene's cooked up, while you relax with the boys."

Anraí smiled back and dropped a peck onto his little sister's cheek. "When did you get to be so smart, a stor?"

"When you weren't looking, of course," she chuckled. As she headed for the barn door, she looked back over one shoulder. "Are you coming up to the house?"

"In a few minutes. I've got a chore or two to finish down here first."

He could have easily delegated the handful of tasks to any of the men, but Anraí found it easiest to work out nerves by working with his hands. Not that he had the slightest of doubts about marrying Laine, he didn't. But God help him, everything involved with getting to that point ... well, he felt entitled to hang out with the horses for a little while.

He'd just finished fixing the latch on the stall intended for the new Morgan when he heard someone come in through the tack room. Laine? No, not her footstep. His eyes widened as another familiar female voice reached him. Pippa, greeting Shithead the barn cat.

He reacted instinctively, quietly closing the stall door and letting his body shift and flow into his horse form. He didn't want to hide from Pippa, but neither did he want to scare the poor lass by popping up unexpectedly.
Puca Eyes


Actually took place a little over a week ago ...

He couldn't believe it had been less than a year.

Anraí leaned on a fence post, staring up into an evening gone crystalline and just cold enough to frost his breath. No snow yet, but you could feel winter sliding its fingers over the land. He listened to the low sounds of horses made snug in their stalls for the night, watched the glitter-crusted sky and wondered.

Roughly ten months ago he was in New Mexico, taking a phone call from a woman in Montana with a problem horse. Now, after a dozen different kinds of tumult and upending, the problem horse wasn't so much a problem anymore. And he and Laine were soon to be married, not to mention expecting their first child.

Tomorrow his family would arrive. Three days after that he and Laine would be wed. And in the middle of June ... a baby. A baby. He'd pinched himself a few times to be sure he wasn't dreaming.

Of all the things he'd thought to be by the end of this year, husband and expectant father hadn't made the list. He was still a breeder and trainer of horses, but he'd sold his share of the New Mexico spread he'd helped build to move up here and help Laine transform her late brother's cattle operation into the horse ranch of her dreams. He'd found a woman to share love and a life with and a land that resonated with his Connemara-bred soul far more than New Mexico ever had. He had no regrets.

He certainly did have plenty to think about, though. Fastening his shearling jacket up to the neck, he did just that.