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favicon.pngInjuries - AaronGleeman.comGhost 6.70Wed, 14 Oct 2026 00:07:27 GMT60why-didnt-the-twins-win-this-season-five-big-reasons-from-bad-decisions-to-bad-luck/6a9ffc32fbd54b00015c61c3Thu, 10 Sep 2026 11:20:20 GMTCollapsing after the All-Star break for the third straight season means the Twins fell short of their oft-stated goal to "play meaningful games in September" unless you squint really, really hard. Their playoff odds, which rose to nearly 40 percent after buying at the trade deadline, have sunk to 2 percent with 16 games left.It's over. Not only does ending with a .500 record now appear out of reach given that it would require finishing 12-4, the Twins unraveled so thoroughly by going an AL-worst 13-22 since August 1 that they're no longer even on pace to surpass their 78-win preseason projections from FanGraphs and Baseball Prospectus.There are plenty of reasons for why the Twins failed to climb — and stay — above .500 this season and ultimately ran out of gas long before the finish line. Here are my picks for five of the biggest reasons, including more that should be blamed on bad decisions than on bad luck.]]>twins-notes-byron-buxton-shut-down-joe-ryan-searching-walker-jenkins-passed-over/6a6a6aca500b94000166ef6dThu, 30 Jul 2026 11:03:09 GMTOne day after general manager Jeremy Zoll made it clear the Twins intend to be buyers at the trade deadline, they placed All-Star center fielder Byron Buxton on the injured list for the second time this month. It's the same injury — a right hip strain/impingement — that he's dealt with, off and on, for most of the season.Buxton played seven games between IL stints, hitting .160 and clearly looking less than 100 percent physically. He struggled to decelerate when running in the field and on the bases, was slow to get up after sliding several times, and simply didn't look comfortable swinging the bat. It's an injury that's lingered since May.It's remarkable that Buxton was able to play as well as he did while compromised, hitting .263/.320/.544 with 25 homers in 82 games for a 137 OPS+ in line with his 138 OPS+ in 2024-2025. But with a constant risk of aggravating the injury leading to frequent absences, it became untenable. He received an injection Wednesday."With that injection, we thought he was going to be down probably seven days," manager Derek Shelton said. "At this juncture, we just weren't going to play short with it. Most importantly, we need to try to minimize this and get it knocked out with this injection so the rest of the year he’s healthy."Twins GM Jeremy Zoll talks trade deadline and leaves no doubt they plan to be buyersZoll said adding pitching, and specifically bullpen help, “will be a clear focus.” But the status of catcher Ryan Jeffers, an impending free agent, is still up in the air.Rather than make a big splash by calling up No. 1 prospect Walker Jenkins for his MLB debut, the Twins turned back to infielder Tristan Gray to fill Buxton's roster spot. Gray was optioned to Triple-A St. Paul two weeks ago after spending three-plus months with the Twins, hitting just .232/.271/.333 (69 OPS+) in 63 games.Jenkins, a league-wide top-25 prospect, has batted .292/.364/.494 with 12 extra-base hits, five steals, and nearly as many walks (10) as strikeouts (12) in 23 games since returning from a shoulder injury in mid-June. And, just as importantly with Buxton out, the 21-year-old is widely considered a solid defensive center fielder.]]>twins-notes-buxton-banged-up-roden-ready-kreidler-vs-gray-banda-injured/6a43c1f1dce1830001272004Wed, 01 Jul 2026 12:42:22 GMTtwins-notes-abel-shut-down-again-wallner-heating-up-in-st-paul-lawrence-gets-dfad/6a33d7d4828b62000183031dMon, 22 Jun 2026 11:29:39 GMTMick Abel was on the verge of coming off the injured list and rejoining the Twins' rotation, as soon as Sunday versus the Diamondbacks in Arizona. Instead, the 24-year-old right-hander was shut down Saturday following the latest setback in his recovery from elbow problems that have sidelined him since mid-April.]]>twins-injury-updates-on-ober-rojas-jeffers-jenkins-rodriguez-abel-roden-and-more/6a1e1a0ac75ab900011324deTue, 02 Jun 2026 11:36:35 GMTTwins general manager Jeremy Zoll provided a whole slew of injury updates prior to Monday's game, covering big leaguers and prospects. Rather than try to force them into some kind of narrative story, and risk leaving anything out that may be of interest to completists, I'm going to give you everything Zoll gave us.Just be warned: It's a long list. OK, ready?Bailey Ober, who went on the injured list Sunday, has been diagnosed with a mild right flexor strain. He'll be "shut down for 10-14 days," per Zoll, and the Twins will "see where we're at from there." Ober will go for a second opinion to confirm the initial diagnosis, which fortunately found no ligament damage in his elbow.Zoll classified the Ober diagnosis as relatively good news, given the wide range of possibilities and his previous Tommy John surgery in 2015. "When the (past) graft is intact, and it's in the flexor area, it's relatively mild," Zoll said. "In the spectrum of outcomes, we're feeling encouraged."]]>bailey-obers-injury-pushes-already-depleted-twins-rotation-into-desperation-zone/6a1c33afc75ab90001130eb7Mon, 01 Jun 2026 12:14:49 GMTBailey Ober going on the injured list with right elbow inflammation after allowing eight runs Saturday versus the Pirates, and multiple homers in three consecutive starts, puts yet another big dent in the Twins' once-touted rotation depth. It also came just a day after Simeon Woods Richardson was designated for assignment.When spring training began in February, the Twins believed their rotation depth chart went at least a dozen deep in viable options for 2026, including eight MLB-ready starters with some previous big-league experience and four quality starter prospects waiting in the wings at Triple-A St. Paul.Now the Twins are just 60 games into a 162-game season, and look what injuries and/or ineffectiveness have done to those dozen starters:]]>twins-rotation-depth-vanishes/69ff738316cf6400018ad879Mon, 11 May 2026 05:04:00 GMTAny realistic notion of the Twins being competitive this year was based on their starting pitching carrying an otherwise underwhelming roster. Going into spring training, they had what they thought was excellent rotation depth, featuring All-Stars Joe Ryan and Pablo López at the top, and eight total MLB-ready options.It's what team officials touted throughout the offseason as the reason for fans to believe, it's what projection systems identified as the Twins' biggest — and, really, only — clear strength, and it's what gave some hope that the weakness of a shaky bullpen could be minimized with a lighter reliever workload.And it lasted around three hours. López went down with a season-ending elbow injury on the first morning of full-squad workouts. Shortly after that, David Festa was shut down with a return of last season's shoulder issues, from which there's still no return timeline.Despite losing López and Festa prior to even breaking camp, the Twins' rotation fared remarkably well in the early going, signaling that perhaps starting pitching could be a strength after all. Through the end of April, the rotation ranked No. 6 in innings, No. 8 in ERA, and No. 12 in Win Probability Added out of 30 teams.In particular, the emergence of 25-year-old Taj Bradley and 24-year-old Mick Abel, both of whom were acquired at last July's trade deadline, provided much-needed optimism for the present and future rotation. Sadly, that was also short-lived, with Bradley and Abel now joining López and Festa on the injured list.]]>

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tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405Mon, 20 Jul 2026 06:27:52 +0000Aaron In Africa: My Time in TogoThese are the stories of my 27 months of Peace Corps service in Togo, West Africa.noreply@blogger.com (Aaron)Blogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-979754930037312168Sat, 12 May 2007 13:05:00 +00002007-05-13T19:56:13.685+00:00Done!It's done! After 3 weeks of intense work the computer center is installed and being used. Here are a couple pictures to give you an idea of what it looks like. There will be more coming later as well as a general description of how the entire thing went. Again, thank you so much to everyone that gave. This is what you paid for! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href=" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="; alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064135759406212978" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href=" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="; alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064135763701180290" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href=" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="; alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064135767996147602" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href=" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="; alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064135772291114914" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href=" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="; alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064135776586082226" border="0" /></a> (NOTE: In this picture you can see our main display (32" LCD TV) and computer for the teacher. The cabinet holds one of our switches and decoder for the satellite dish. We are still finishing the center and everything is not 100% in place.) Until next time! Update: Picasa didn't seem to want to upload the pictures properly. They should work now. Sorry!2007/05/done.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)72tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-5239178790428794222Mon, 22 Jan 2007 10:43:00 +00002007-01-28T17:20:43.300+00:00Flat TiresA couple weeks ago I was traveling with a fellow volunteer on some back country roads in a bush taxi (<a href="2006/01/travel-in-togo.html">read about bush taxis</a>.) During the course of driving we blew out our front right tire (not an uncommon thing on dirt roads with pot holes you could get lost in.) After it blew our driver got out and changed it with the spare he had in the trunk. I am always amazed watching taxi drivers change tires here. They can honestly get the old one off and the new one on in less than 5 minutes. The speed comes from all the practice they have. After a long day traveling we finally decided to head home (about 45 miles or 3 hours of driving.) Everything was going fine until the same front right side tire blew again. The hard thing was that we were so far in the middle of nowhere that we had no option for finding a new one. The driver drove the popped tire a good 5 or 6 miles until the thing was nothing but rim, shredded metal, and peaces of torn rubber. We finally reached a small village and stopped the now exhausted car. My friend and I got out of the car along with the driver to survey the damage; it was bad. With our only spare tire already flat and no hope of finding a new one (the people in this village could probably not replace a bike tire let alone a car tire) we were fairly hopeless. The driver said he was going to look for a mechanic and took off down the dirt road. After 10 minutes he came back with another guy caring a metal spike and a bike pump held together by electrical tape. By this time a couple other people had wandered out to the road to say hi and see if there was anything they could do. Our driver said a few words in local language and started hammering to separate the rim from the rubber tire. I wasn’t sure if he was planning on trying to patch the inner tube or what. After a few minutes of hammering and good progress being made separating the tire from the rim a woman walked up with a bowl of a white pasty substance. I looked at my fellow volunteer and said, “Is that some sort of adhesive?” She looked at me and said, “I think it smells like pate.” (NOTE: Pate is one of the main staples of the Togolese diet and I think of West Africa as a whole. It is ground cassava and ground corn boiled into a hard grits like ball. It is usually eaten with a sauce.) The driver took the now separated rim and tire and began spreading pate in the space between. He then took the bike pump and started pumping. I couldn’t believe it. Was he actually hoping to pressurize the entire tire with nothing but ground corn and cassava as a sealant? Everyone there took turns pumping. When a section of the pate seal would blow out and release air the driver would expertly apply more of the sticky substance. The entire time they were pumping I kept shaking my head and saying to myself, “This will never work! How could this work?” Finally the tire started expanding. It got to the point where the pate was beginning to get squeezed out of the now closing crevice. Finally the last excess pate was squeezed out leaving only enough to seal the tire shut. I could not believe it. The driver stood the tire up, bounced it one time to check its solidity and walked over to where it needed to go on the car. He put the tire in place, screwed everything in, and with a gasp of disbelief from me, lowered the car on the pressurized, pate sealed tire. I could hardly believe my eyes. Here was an entire car being help up by nothing but water, corn, and cassava! How was this possible? With reluctance my friend and I slowly lowered ourselves into the car, fearing any added weight would blow the seal. The driver started the car, and with one final wave to our new friends, we headed out with nothing between us and the road except old rubber and someone’s dinner. The driver stepped on the gas getting up to 65 mph. As we flew down the road every bump, every pothole sent images of the front tire violently blowing and all of us flying through the air. We drove a good 15 miles to where we were within site of the lights from the bigger town we were headed. All of a sudden the sound of rushing air and flapping rubber started coming from our once hard tire. Our driver slowed to a stop and let his exhausted head fall onto the steering wheel. I looked down at my cellphone and realized that we were now close enough to town to get reception. We called a friend who brought another tire and we all went home. Ps. I apologize for not posting in such a long time. I have been very busy getting back into the swing of things after the Christmas break. I also just got engaged to an amazing women who is also a Peace Corps Volunteer. We will be getting married when we get back to the US in September. I can hardly wait. :) Thank you all for your support. Please feel free to get in touch with me if you have any questions or just want to say hi. Until next time…2007/01/flat-tires.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-2141881381349918329Thu, 28 Dec 2006 13:24:00 +00002006-12-28T13:43:04.680+00:00Random Clips<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value=" src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object> Here is a short video of a few random clips I found laying around. I put in titles to help give you an idea of what you are looking at. The song that is playing is MzBel - 16 years. A great song that was popular around here a couple months ago. ps. Here are a couple posts that I pulled out of the collection that I have gotten the most comments on. <a href="2006/01/travel-in-togo.html"> Travel in Togo </a> <a href="2006/07/still-here.html">The Attack</a> <a href="2006/06/castration.html">A Castration</a> <a href="2005/09/turkey.html">Killing a Turkey</a> <a href="2005/10/my-response.html">My response</a>2006/12/random-clips.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)73tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-61316191656815609Mon, 04 Dec 2006 18:10:00 +00002007-01-28T17:20:19.087+00:00An ExchangeThe other day a fellow volunteer told me an interesting story that I felt sums up much of our job as Peace Corps Volunteers. A couple weeks ago she was sitting at the market drinking the local beverage, chouck (I’ve written about it in past entries… I think there is even a picture of me drinking it somewhere in the archives.) A little girl (probably 5 or 6 years old) and her mother were there as well, sitting a few feet away. My friend saw the girl point to her and ask a question to the mother. We are all very used to being talked about and she thought nothing of it. Again the little girl asked something of the mother and pointed at my friend. This time the mother got up, and slightly sheepishly walked over to where my friend was sitting and asked, “I’m so sorry to bother you, but, my daughter has never touched white skin before. Would you mind if she touched you?” My friend being the good sport she is thought for a second and said, “Sure.” The mother motioned to the girl who timidly approached my friend, slowly put out her hand and touched the white arm. Her eyes went large and she quickly pulled away. She stood there, staring at my friends arm, and finally reached out to touch it again. This time she gave it a few strokes then looked up and said to her mother, “It’s the same as black skin!” There are times in Peace Corps when I become consumed with my work. When that work isn’t going quite so well I get depressed and begin wondering why I am even here. Then there are the little day to day exchanges like the one my friend had that bring me back to reality and remind me of my real job. Note... Don't forget to read the <a href="2006/07/project.html">entry</a> about the project I am working on!2006/12/exchange.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)201tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-1422190432376016213Wed, 29 Nov 2006 12:31:00 +00002006-11-29T12:37:24.250+00:00Tour of the Market<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value=" src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"></object> Here is another video. This one is of my father, mother, and me wandering around the twice weekly market in my town. You can get a really nice feel for what it's like. Enjoy!2006/11/tour-of-market.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-3701207608741233634Mon, 06 Nov 2006 09:33:00 +00002006-11-06T09:35:38.031+00:00My Living Room and Kitchen: Cribs Style<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value=" src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object> Short tour of my living room and kitchen.2006/11/my-living-room-and-kitchen-cribs-style.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-8460067077153888677Sun, 05 Nov 2006 11:20:00 +00002006-11-29T12:36:39.557+00:00Me and Mom at the Market<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object> Here's another short video of me and my mom buying something at the market.2006/11/mom-and-i-at-market.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-3223282959880636138Fri, 03 Nov 2006 09:04:00 +00002006-11-03T09:05:09.083+00:00Pumping<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value=" src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object> Here's a short video of fellow volunteer Ellen demonstrating one of the pumps in her village.2006/11/pumping.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-1931084308959996628Mon, 30 Oct 2006 07:52:00 +00002006-10-30T07:58:27.891+00:00My School<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value=" name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object> Here is a short video shot by my father of the school where I work. This gives you a great idea of what simple classrooms look like. ps. Don't forget to <a href="; donate</a> to the project! Only a few more weeks left. :)2006/10/my-school.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)62tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-5213391993698467157Sun, 29 Oct 2006 12:07:00 +00002006-10-29T12:19:04.832+00:00Drive<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value=" src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"></object> This is a nice little tour of my town from the back of a taxi. This was shot by my dad yesterday.2006/10/drive.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-8305982217009275555Sat, 28 Oct 2006 07:50:00 +00002006-10-28T07:58:08.104+00:00Ordering Food<object height="350" width="425"> <param name="movie" value="; <embed src="; type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"> </object> Here is the first little taste of video blogs from this side of the world. In the coming days and weeks I will be putting up more interesting and better edited videos. Enjoy and let me know if you have any questions.2006/10/ordering-food.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-116193742569310866Fri, 27 Oct 2006 08:11:00 +00002006-10-27T09:04:15.619+00:00Back!Sorry for the long delay in posting. I have been getting online every day hoping that I would check the status of the project and it would magically have been fully funded. Each day I said to myself, "If you leave the project posting up for one more day maybe tomorrow it will get funded." As of now people have given close to $2,000. I first want to say thank you so much to everyone who has given. I can't wait until I can show you what that money you have given can do! Second, I have decided that in the interest of time (I have less than one year left here) I am going to cut the funding short, take whatever is there, and do what we can with it. I am going to leave the project up until the 15th of November. If you want to give please do so before that time. In other news... The telecoms provider in Togo recently launched a wireless internet service across the country that I have signed up for. That means that I have fairly reliable, fast internet at my house! I know... I can hardly consider myself a Peace Corps Volunteer anymore. If you use Skype and would like to try calling me, my Skype name is 'awchilds.' This new connection will also allow me to do fun things like video blogs, live web cams (who wants to see a live shot of the street outside my house?) and so many other things! Thanks for your patience with the lack of updates. I'm totally back and ready to rumble!2006/10/back.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-115393461272869557Wed, 26 Jul 2006 16:44:00 +00002007-01-26T12:26:29.173+00:00Project<iframe src="; frameborder="0" height="115" width="100" align="left"></iframe>As a Peace Corps volunteer one of the options for work is to find a need in our communities, create a project responding to that need, find funding, and finally implement it. Since being here I have seen a huge need for computer skills in the people that I live and work with. In response to this I began work with a local school to create a project to build a community computer center. The project throughout the past couple of months has changed and morphed to something that we are all very excited to get off the ground. Sadly we need to find a little over $10,000 to put it into place. There is a program called Peace Corps Partnerships where volunteers write proposals and then solicit funds for them. With no other source for that much money I decided to do that. In a nutshell my idea is to create a community computer center that lowers the cost of learning about computers and then using them to as close to nothing as possible. To do this I have teamed up with a local private school that has agreed to take on all costs associated with the maintenance and upkeep of the center. In return for this investment they will have preferential access to the center 40% of the time. The rest of the time it will be open to the community for classes and open computer time. Throughout my time here I have seen a number of computer centers that have been built on one of two general models: totally public and funded through a big NGO or totally private and financed completely by classes or internet use. The problem with the first model is that it requires constant funding from the NGO. In other cases where they turn management over to the local community or government, funds are mismanaged and the centers fail. The second model, while normally functional, charges upwards of $200-$400 for each class, pretty much what the average person here makes in an entire year. With this project we have created an entirely different model based on a combination of both public and private. The school has it in their best interest to pay the bills and make sure the center works. If they chose not to they will lose the notoriety and the new students brought to them by the center. At the same time they also have it in there best interest to keep it open to the community. Take for example our plan to partner with local public schools. We open the center each day to a different public school. Towards the end of lunch the students will begin walking to our school, take a one hour intro to computers class, and then go back to their regular studies. With 25 computers and two students to each computer each paying 200 francs CFA (about 40 US cents) for the entire eight week class the center will make a profit of 10,000 francs (about $20.) Run one class a day, five days a week and that is a sizable profit. All this money generated will be put into a computer center account, separate from that of the school’s general fund. This separation is currently being laid out in a detailed constitution that will be used to gain official NGO status from the government of Togo. I am working with a man who wants to do a tourist guide for our city. He has done an amazing job laying the entire guide out by hand, writing all the information, and finding local business partners. The problem is that he does not have the computer skills needed and the physical access to a computer to make his project a reality. The computer center will directly respond to this need of lack of skills and access to computers. I like the idea of us being a place where people can first come and learn how to use computers then outsource their actual computer needs to us. This will allow people like the tourist guide creator and the public schools to have access to a computer just like it was sitting in their living rooms or in their own schools. We are allowing them to put the burden of acquisition, management, and upkeep of a computer on us. We are taking this idea even further through a set of advanced classes that we are planning on offering. So far we have plans to offer video editing, music creation, web design, graphic design, and intro to programming classes. Each of these classes will offer more advanced students a chance to learn a new, marketable skill. For example, we plan on buying a number of video cameras for use by our video editing class. With the help of other Peace Corps Volunteers we will teach them how to properly shoot and edit video. After the class we will encourage them to go out into the community, advertise their services to people having weddings, funerals, and parties who want the event recorded. They will then use the centers cameras to shoot the event, the centers computers to edit and burn disks, and eventually make a profit. The same concept will be used for web design and logo creation. The center, along with being a place to learn, will also become a hub for a bunch of micro businesses. We are giving these students the knowledge and the physical resources they need to let their creativity and motivation work for them. Last week I was training the computer teacher for a small computer center that another volunteer built in a neighboring town. After a couple hours of work we took a break. I left the room and came back to find a group of people gathered around the computer all using a multimedia encyclopedia. They started by wanting to see what it said about Togo and their own small town (not much). They listened to the Togolese national anthem, saw pictures of the capitol city, and read about its history. After exploring a bit they started to branch out to bordering countries. After looking at pictures of Ghana and Burkina Faso they got more adventuress and looked at all of Africa. Eventually they had found remote regions of Europe, listened to the first broadcast from the moon, and saw pictures of New York at night. It was an incredible experience to see these people go from their limited knowledge and experience and eventually find things that are so far from their every day lives. I realized that the main reason I want to build this computer center is not just to teach people how to use computers. I want to give the people of my community the opportunity to see what else is out there. I want them seeing what people in Europe and the US live like. I then want them to say, “Wait a second. Why do they get to live like that and we don’t?” These kids will grow up and demand more. I want to show these people that there is more out there and that they too can have it. They just need to know. Sorry this has gone on so long. My initial intention was just to write a brief outline of the project and post it with a <a href=" to my project</a>. The problem is that I feel so strongly about this and know it so well that I could talk for hours. The overall cost for the project is $10,512. At the end of the proposal is a detailed budget showing exactly where the money will be going. Here is a brief chart showing amount of money given to what it will buy to give you a better idea of what your money would be going to: $35: Desk with 2 stools for computer $80: Video camera $160: Basic Pentium 2 computer, monitor, keyboard mouse $300: Pentium 3 computer for advanced classes, monitor, keyboard, and mouse $500: Display system for classroom $1000: My love forever J The project is run under the oversight of <a href=" Corps Partnerships</a>. What is nice is that every penny given goes directly to the project and is totally tax deductible. <a href=" the full proposal</a>(Thank you Ben for the space!) <a href=" info on Peace Corps Partnerships</a> <a href=";To donate</a> (This is the page describing my project. Click "Donate", scroll down to "Togo", find "Computer Center", and enter the amount you want to contribute.) If you have any other questions either post them, email me, or give me a call. I am always ready and willing to talk. Thanks in advance for all your help.2006/07/project.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)82tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-115324460168835727Tue, 18 Jul 2006 17:36:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:28.332+00:00Still Here!Before I begin telling this next story I want to say that I am totally fine. While what I am about to write was scary, I am very lucky in that it was not much worse. Now that it is two weeks later I sit here in good mental and physical health, with only a few scars to show for my experience. With that being said… I was in Lomé, the capitol of Togo, two weeks ago to do some work. The first night I was there I went to a bar a few blocks from both the Peace Corps office and my hotel with a couple friends. It was a normal evening with us drinking a couple beers and complaining about our parasites. Around 12:30am the last four of us still at the bar decided to walk back to the hotel we were all staying in. We walked the first couple blocks down the dark sandy road. As we were walking past the Peace Corps office a young guy came up behind us and tried to start talking to us. Living here you get very used to people trying to talk to you, and we all continued walking. After a few more steps I felt something poke me in the back. I turned around to see the kid motioning to the small bag I held with his left hand and a full size machete in his right. I looked up from this attack at the lights glowing on the high security walls of my US Government employer and thought, "Guards! Walls! Safety!" I started screaming in both French and English, "HELP ME! HELP ME!" And ran to the metal door next to the main guard booth. I had visions of guards with large sticks streaming out the door, coming to my aid. I reached the stoop next to the door, continued to yell and turned to face my assailant. I watched in horror as he brought the machete down twice on my left arm. At this point I don’t remember much of what happened next. I know I stood there for some amount of time trying to call someone to my aid. I know he hit me a few more times with the machete. The attacker eventually gave up, turned around, and hopped on the back of a motorcycle manned by an accomplice. I then walked back and found my friends who had run the other direction and been sheltered two blocks down by a shop owner who had heard my screams and opened his door. With the protection of the shop keeper and his brother we walked back to our hotel. I came out of the entire experience with two gashes on my left arm, one on my upper shoulder blade, one on my lower back, and two on my left thigh. I’m not totally sure if the blade was dull, the attacker wasn’t 100% into it, or if it was just my iron like physique that kept the wounds from being worse. I got really lucky. I know that. But in the end I figure that this sort of event is the price that I have to pay to live the amazingly interesting life that I do. These sort of things happen. I’m just thankful I’m still alive.2006/07/still-here.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-115183926421662888Sun, 02 Jul 2006 11:17:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:28.259+00:00CatScratch another one off the list: cat. I know it has been said a million times, but, it kind of tastes like chicken; only better. A couple weeks ago I was drinking the local equivalent of beer (Tchouck… see a picture of me drinking it posted a few months ago) and talking with a couple Togolese friends about meat. We ended up on the subject of dog and cat. I eat dog a couple times a week. It’s a darker meat that tastes a lot like roast beef. (One of these days I want to get some, make a nice brown sauce, and put it all onto a piece of toasted bred. Sooooo good! ) After some discussion we figured out that for the equivalent of about $10 we could get a dog and a cat and have a party. I am always ready and willing to try new things. I firmly believe in the “you must try everything once’ mantra (except baby birds on a stick in the south of China… I’ll leave that one for my adventurous little brother). After some discussion we decided to have a party where we would have a dog and cat killed and roasted, a bottle of fermented palm wine (a drink with an amazing flavor and very strong, moon shine, type kick) and Tchouck. I offered to put down the local equivalent of around $20 to pay for everything including the gas (crazy expensive these days!) for my friend to go to surrounding villages on his motorcycle and buy all our intended victims. I got a call this morning around 9:00am from my friend saying, “We have the dog and cat! Do you want to come watch us prepare it?” Thankfully I had a Peace Corps friend in town and declined. I am down with eating dog and cat. I just really don’t want to see someone slit their throats and throw their dead carcasses over a fire. I said I would be there around 1pm. I met my friend around the appointed time and we started walking to the house of the person who had taken care of the preparation. On the walk we were talking about animals eating the meat of other animals. At one point the two Togolese guys I was with said, “Cats will eat cat. No problem. But good dogs won’t eat other dogs. Bad dogs yes. But good dogs no.” I could not believe that dogs could somehow know that a piece of meat sitting in front of them was dog and not eat it. I wouldn’t believe it. We got to my friends house, went inside and sat down on the great red velvet covered lounge chairs he has (I would love to know what sleazy 70s lounge these chairs came from!) He bent over behind the table in front of us and pulled out a black, very full plastic bag and a covered stainless steel bowl. He picked up the bowl, walked over to where we were, and with the smile of a proud parent, opened the lid. I leant over, looked inside and saw the head of a small animal, its mouth wide open, teeth daring anyone to touch it, tongue sticking out in a horrid death pose, staring back at me. This was the cat. I looked over the assorted pieces of what I had, until this point, only experienced as an entire being. I finally reached into the pot of meat and tomato/onion sauce and grabbed what looked to be a leg. I waited for everyone else to get a piece, looked down, and took a bite. It was amazing! I hate to say it, but, cat has to be one of my favorite meats. It has a taste of chicken yet with a richer, more savory flavor. The leg was probably the most tender, juicy pieces of meat that I have eaten in a long long time. I sit here now, hours later, craving the taste of the juice spurting into my mouth. After we ate our piece we each had a shot of the distilled palm wine, ate a piece of dog (total let down after the wonderful, delicate flavor of the cat) and looked down at the bone, now devoid of meat, sitting in each of our hands. The owner of the house took the bones, pulled aside the curtain covering the door, and walked over to the two dogs tied to a tree and threw them the cat bones. They ate them with the relish that only a starving Togolese dog could. When he walked back to where we were all standing, I looked at the bag of dog meat in his hand, then at the two dogs, smiled, and said, “Give them a little dog meat.” He smiled, reached into the bag, pulled out a morsel of freshly cooked dog meat and threw it to the two chained animals. It was amazing. The first dog left his cat bone, walked over to the meat, smelt it, and walked away. I had NEVER seen a dog turn down meat. He knew it was dog! The second one though, walked over, smelt it, and greedily swallowed it in one go. I looked at my friend as I saw this and he said, “He’s not a good dog. But the other, he’s good.” The bad dog ate the meat and the other didn’t. It was true! We finally ended up a few houses down sitting on wooden benches under a mango tree, small table in front of us, and bowls of tchouck resting in their plastic holders at our feet. My friend set the bag of dog meat on the table, put some very spicy powder (I am actually learning to love spicy food) down next to it, and took the first piece. As we ate other people came over, took a couple pieces, and went back to drinking. A couple hours later all the dog was done, a couple bowls of tchouck was in each of our bellies, and we were ready to go home. As I biked home I thought of a wonderful sandwich that would probably taste close to the shredded pork sandwiches my grandmother makes and I crave on a daily basis… BBQ Shredded Cat Ps. Despite my last two entries being either about castrating a cat or eating a cat I do in fact love them. My cat and I are both doing very well after our (his) traumatic experience. Thanks for all of your emails and messages concerned about his and my well being!2006/07/cat.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-115088794517597685Wed, 21 Jun 2006 10:55:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:28.192+00:00CastrationAs I sit here writing this I can feel the blood dripping down the side of my right hand and splashing the keyboard. I had my cat castrated this morning. I decided that it was finally time to have my cat’s manhood taken. People have been telling me that if you don’t castrate a male cat he will eventually start spraying urine all over the walls of your house. With the weird smells that already permeate my life here I decided that that was something I defiantly did not need. I had heard stories of past volunteers having their animals castrated and afterwards almost bleeding to death on the living room floors. Or how for cats the vet got a cardboard box, poked a hole in one side, stuck the soon to be gone body parts out the hole, and cut. I had been putting off the castration for the past couple months, knowing it wouldn’t be fun. Last night I finally got up the courage and called the vet. He said he would be at my house at 7am and that the entire thing would cost the equivalent of 3$. I got off the phone 35 seconds later and thought, "Wow. That was really easy. This really won’t be a problem!" HA! I made sure to be up extra early and eating my bowl of cornflakes (you would be surprised at how good cornflakes and freshly made condensed milk and water tastes) and drinking my overly strong cup of black coffee well before the time of cutting. At around 6:45am the bell rung and I opened the door to find a smiling middle age Togolese man standing at my door. The first thing he said was, "I have been working with Americans for a long time and know they always like to be on time." Good thing number two. He came in and we talked a few minutes about the volunteer I replaced and his dog, my garden, and finally caught sight of our victim casually walking out the cat size hole I cut in my screen door. The vet looked around and said, "Do you have a second?" I was confused. Are we fighting a duel? Do I need a second to defend my honor? I looked confused and he continued, "To hold the cat." I confidently responded that this was my cat, he loved and trusted me, I could hold him by myself. The vet shrugged, said ok, and pulled a little packet with a fresh razor blade from his pocket. I took the cat, laid him on the concrete floor of my patio, took his front two legs (that up until now have done nothing more violent towards me then bat at my moving toes) in my left hand and held his neck gently but firmly in my right hand. He was a little unsure, but, in the end he is a very trusting cat (he’d never had his freakin balls chopped off before!) The vet took his back legs in one hand and carefully lowered the razor blade to the small soon to be empty package. With the first slice of the razor blade I saw my cat’s eyes bulge, heard the yelp that one would assume came with a male having his defining parts removed, and he began to fight. At one point during the cutting I felt all five claws of one of his back paws dig into the top of my left hand. As I reacted to that attack I felt his head shimmy out of my right hand and teeth enter into my palm. I didn’t blink an eye, didn’t bat an eyelash. We were here to do some cutting. I don’t know how I got control again. The entire scene is a blur of blood and yelping at this point. He got out of our grip a second time and I felt multiple paws and teeth all at the same time digging into my exposed flesh. I looked down at the opposite end (I had been focusing on the teeth wielding part) and saw the vet gingerly pull what looked like two small grapes attached to flesh colored cords from my cats nether regions. It was over. I tried to let go of the screaming animal but found he had latched onto my hand with teeth and nails. He finally understood that he was done and let go. I was badly shaken (all the caffeine sure as heck didn’t help any). I went inside to find a sterile bandage to help stop the bleeding from my many injuries. When I came back I saw the vet pick up the lost cat parts, walk over to one of my flower beds, and bury them. The vet tried to apologize for my wounds. In broken, very shaky French (I could hardly speak English at that point let alone anything else) I said, "It's ok. My cat is bleeding and suffering over there. I guess I can too… And I still have my balls."2006/06/castration.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-115054853216074072Sat, 17 Jun 2006 12:47:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:28.109+00:00More FoodOne of my goals whenever I live in a different country is to be able to do things like a local, buying or asking for something with only a few, short words. I always try to use hand gestures, head tilts and one or two quietly said words to get what I want. There is something about the lack of verbal communication that communicates what I want in a way only someone that KNOWS how to order something would order it. One of my favorite restaurants is on a dusty road on the way up a hill next to the school where I work. In a past blog entry I wrote about how when you eat on the street there is usually a very big bowl of some carb based food (rice, pasta, ground up corn mush balls etc) and a sauce. This restaurant is different in that instead of one pot of sauce there is a table with around 20 large cooking pots full of sauces of all type of color and texture. There are green sauces that have a stringy snot like consistency (gumbo…. HATE!), red sauces with chunks of assorted fats or curled up rolls of skin (actually learning to like both skin and fat), and various colored liquids with chunks of meat (of various quality). The sauce I always go for is the first one on the far right of the table: Antelope (here known as Biche). When you walk in the door you enter a concrete room about 10 by 20 feet. On one side are two low tables about 8 feet long. Each table has two long benches on either side that sit only a few inches bellow the eating surface. This means that everyone sits, semi-hunched over their metal bowl of carb and sauce, massaging and then gently tossing the food from hand to mouth. On each end of a table sits a large plastic, multi-colored bucket filled with water, a plastic basin and cup. When you sit down at a table you fill the cup with water, position the basin in front of you, and using your left hand pour the water over your right hand while rubbing all the fingers in order against your palm. I walk in, turn to the round motherly lady manning the pots, and order with a total of seven softly spoken words: "Riz cent francs. Biche trois cent." (I then sit down and say to one of the young waitress girls) "Castel." I sit down at my favorite spot (far right of the table directly across from the entrance with my back against the wall) and wait for my food and beer. By the time I am done washing my hands the first glass of beer has been poured and placed on my left and my shinny stainless steal food filled bowl put in front of me. When I first started going to the restaurant I always ate my rice and antelope with a spoon that the ladies automatically put in all bowls for foreigners. The other day I sat down to my usual meal and without thinking, put the spoon on the table, and started mixing the rice and sauce with my hands. After eating my first bite of food I realized that I wasn’t eating the way I have been eating for so long. I instinctively picked up my spoon and took another bite. It didn’t taste right. There was something about the metal mixing with the spicy flavor of the sauce, the warm sticky alive feeling of the rice being marred by the dead spoon that I put it, now dirty, back on the table. I’m waiting for the day when the waitress notices the clean spoons and eventually treats me like everyone else.2006/06/more-food.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-114820956228880158Sun, 21 May 2006 10:59:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:28.048+00:00CoconutsWhen I lived in India I hated the taste of coconut milk. My brother loved it. I remember the milk having a sour, unmilky flavor that I just couldn’t enjoy. I don’t know if it is my body’s continual search for more liquids (no matter how much I drink I always feel dehydrated!), the taste of something different, or just the newly discovered subtle sweetness that has changed my mind? To pick a coconut is not an easy task. The trees are usually 20 – 30 feet tall with the coconuts holding on in grape type bunches all the way at the top. It is part circus trick, part Olympic feat what their pickers accomplish. The job is usually given to a boy aged 13 – 17. Like a pirate climbing into the rigging chasing a stowaway, they put a machete between their teeth, look up at the eventual prize, and half shimmy, half walk up to the fruit. For the five minutes while he is suspended high above, there is a continual rain of heavy green giant orbs falling all around. You can see a coconut seller lady from the other side of a market. She has a large basin stacked almost double with basketball sized coconuts and machete at the ready. These are not the dead brown "coconuts" that’s you get in American supermarkets. Here they are always newly picked in all their giant beautiful green freshness. You call her over with a glance, quick up side down beckoning motion of the right hand, or (depending on where you are) a simple, "Ko!" (Come in Kabyé) or, "Vien!" (Come in French.) Then with your help (ALWAYS help get a basin on and off someone’s head) she expertly takes the basin off her head and sets it on the ground between you. Then comes one of my favorite parts. She chooses a coconut depending on how much you want to spend: 10 cents for a smaller one 20 for big. In preparing her wares for market she takes each coconut and expertly hacks off the top third of the hard outer green layer showing the light brown inner milk container. She then takes the coconut in one hand, machete in the other, and somehow without chopping her fingers off (I usually count to see if my ladies still have all ten digits. They always do.), removes in small quick blows the remaining two thirds of green outside. The chopped out light brown core, after the chopping, is usually about a third as big as the original fruit (coconuts are fruit… right? Or are they nuts?). Finally she holds the coconut in the left hand and, with the right hand brings the machete expertly down on the top. After three or four swift chops a nice little quarter sized circle opens up showing the wonderful wonderful juice inside. She then hands the container to you, you take it, throw your head back (there is an iconic picture reproduced all over Togo that shows a bare breasted, Togolese women, drinking from a coconut on the beach. Her head is thrown back in complete abandon, juice flows over her bare torso, the sun sets in the distance. It is this ideal that I strive to recreate with every purchased coconut.) and drink the milk in a single go. When you are done, without saying anything, you hand the now empty nut (is it a nut?) back to the lady who takes it again in her left hand, and brings the machete down hard on its side, cracking it open and splitting it into two halves. Then either with the end of the machete or a small shard of the green outside, she separates the meat from the shell, places it back in the halved coconut, and hands it back to you to eat.2006/05/coconuts.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-114648176892838246Mon, 01 May 2006 11:03:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:27.975+00:00More on YovoThe other day I was asked to talk to a high school class who was studying the US. I decided that it would be more interesting for the students (and less work for me… always good… :) to go in and ask for questions. After about 20 minutes of questions one kid raised his hand and asked, “Are Americans an individualistic or group oriented society?” I responded by asking which category his culture fell into. He answered immediately saying the Togolese were group oriented. In an earlier post I mentioned the word Yovo. Roughly translated (and this depends on who you talk to) it means stranger, outsider. Over the years it has morphed to mean white person, European or even non-African (which from a Togolese perspective are all outsiders, strangers etc). It is not necessarily (again, depending on who you talk to) derogatory. Instead it is a label given to a group of people. This word manifests itself every time I leave my house. As soon as I walk out my front gate (thank God I have high outer walls!) children hidden all around start screaming, “Yovo!” Or, “Anasara!” It isn’t so much calling me or trying to say good morning. It is more like when a young kid in the US yells out, “Train!” Then as I bike through my neighborhood there is a wave of this yelling that follows me to my destination. Most volunteers HATE this. As an American I can understand their point of view. As Americans we were always taught the value of the individual. All through school we were taught that we are individually interesting people and that grouping someone is bad. We cringe every time we hear someone refer to another person as black or white. Now imagine walking down the street and having mobs of kids chasing after you seemingly grouping you, judging you for the color of your skin. Some volunteers get angry. Others come up with clever ways to change what the kids say (one taught all the kids to call him Champ.) In the end I just deal with it. 2006/05/more-on-yovo.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-114546372802364495Wed, 19 Apr 2006 16:12:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:27.920+00:00The FulaniThere is an ethnic group in this part of the world called the Fulani. (What I am about to describe is based purely on asking questions and not on hard fact. If there are things that I get wrong, please forgive me.) They are a nomadic group of people that are all over this part of Africa. Fulani men are paid by rich people to herd cattle from one place to another. In Togo they normally walk from Burkina Faso (North of Togo) to Lomé (the capitol in the South) with herds of 15 – 20 skinny skinny cows. For some reason Fulani all dress alike. The men wear baggy, loose fitting, solid color MC Hammer type pants with a very loose tunic type shirt (oftentimes the shirts will be second hand western women’s clothing like a blouse.) They ALWAYS have a walking stick in one hand, water bottle on a string draped over one arm, bag (most often women’s purse) draped over the other arm and a hat (usually straw but on occasion white lacey kind of hat little girls in the south wear to church). For some reason they also all wear solid colored plastic (gummy kind of) shoes. I’m not sure I have ever seen a Fullani woman. I think I have. They usually have children in their arms, colorful beads in their hair, and a far away look to their eye. Their clothing is usually a deep red color. Having lived here for a number of months and traveled a bit I have gotten used to seeing things that are foreign to me. I don’t think I will ever get used to seeing the Fulani. Two weeks ago I was in a car driving from a city in the south of the country to my home further north. We stopped next to a thriving market in the full swing of market day. The market looked like most other markets except for how many Fulani there were. Groups of two or three Fulani guys (probably 17 – 25 years old) were casually wandering around, not buying anything, just being seen. Imagine middle schoolers in the US going to the mall on a Saturday afternoon. Before going they put on their best shoes, do their hair just right, and hope to be seen. These guys had done the exact same thing… just Fulani style. Some of the guys wandering around had on makeup; some of it turning their face a clown like white. Others had painted white circles on their cheeks, white streaks under their eyes, and white on their lips. There were groups who had giant Afros (and the accompanying hair pick). Others had very nice purses and the white hats of the southern nine year old at her first communion. Yesterday, I was leaving the market with arms full of black bags of veggies. As I loaded up my bike bags I looked up to see two Fullani guys staring at me and whispering to each other. They were talking about me. Between two guys who walk around carrying women’s purses and lace hats I was the foreign one. I was the alien. They belong to an ethnic group I understand about as well as the accordion, who know and think exactly the same about me. I didn’t need the makeup, purse, or walking stick. Instead I had my jeans, messenger bag and Trek bike. And I was weird.2006/04/fulani.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Aaron)6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13512405.post-114423628647883934Wed, 05 Apr 2006 11:21:00 +00002006-10-27T08:27:27.864+00:00Who loves stop lights?A couple weeks ago small traffic lights suddenly appeared at the 4 main intersections of my town. For the first week that they were up none worked. Riding through the intersections where my life has been nearly taken from me, I was excited about the idea of having something to control the flow of motorcycle, car, huge truck and people traffic. About a week after the signals magically appeared in town I was biking to use the internet. I turned on the main intersection only to be stopped on the next street by a policeman who said the road was closed. Not totally sure why (but not questioning… you learn to let things slide after being here for a while) I turned around and tried to turn down another road of the intersection only to be met by yet another policeman. I finally decided that something was going on and pulled my bike over to see what would happen. After a few minutes of waiting I started hearing drums. In another minute or two I saw a group of Tem (one of the local tribal/ethnic groups) dancers (guys dance with two sticks in a line, spinning and hitting the other guys sticks rhythmically) followed by a group of horsemen dressed (the rider and horse) in traditional garb. The riders were pulling on the reigns, making the horses rear up every few steps. The dancers and horses were then followed by a small fleet of Mercedes that stopped in the middle of the intersection in front of me. A group of besuited (anyone wearing a suit in this country is both very rich/important and (in my opinion) very crazy (SO HOT)) men got out of the cars walked up to one of the newly traffic lighted parts of the intersection and cut a white ribbon that had been hung across the road. There were a few more minutes of dancing as the suited men all shook hands and finally got back into their air-conditioned cars to be driven away to whatever office they worked in. Crowds milled around the intersection for a few more minutes until the traffic lights were finally turned on and traffi

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aaronjedwards.com For Passion! For Beauty! For Blogging! Mon, 12 Oct 2026 18:47:04 +0000 en-US hourly 1 aaronjedwards.com 32 32 11461677 Voluntary Amputation voluntary-amputation/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=voluntary-amputation voluntary-amputation/#respond Mon, 12 Oct 2026 17:46:00 +0000 ?p=2762 If you're new here, I publish a horror story every October for the spooky season. These stories are really fun to write, as I get to stretch my imagination and describe things in bloody, gory detail. This year, is extra special, as there's quite a bit of myself in the story. I hope you enjoy this very special October Scary Story. Stay spooky! The post Voluntary Amputation appeared first on aaronjedwards.com. ]]> voluntary-amputation/feed/ 0 2762 Reading and Writing Wrap Up 2025 reading-and-writing-wrap-up-2025/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=reading-and-writing-wrap-up-2025 Wed, 31 Dec 2025 18:28:00 +0000 ?p=2747 What have I been reading this year? And what have I been writing? If you want to know about the 31 books I've read, as well as the four novellas I'm writing, I'd love to tell you about it! The post Reading and Writing Wrap Up 2025 appeared first on aaronjedwards.com. ]]> 2747 Werewolves On Planet Koira 4 werewolves-on-planet-koira-4/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=werewolves-on-planet-koira-4 Thu, 30 Oct 2025 17:14:00 +0000 ?p=2714 What happens when a pack of werewolves find themselves on a planet with 8 moons, and a full moon every night? This year's October Scary Story blends science fiction with horror. And why is there a cat on this space ship? The post Werewolves On Planet Koira 4 appeared first on aaronjedwards.com. ]]> 2714 What Am I Reading, What Am I Writing: November/December 2024 what-am-i-reading-what-am-i-writing-november-december-2024/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=what-am-i-reading-what-am-i-writing-november-december-2024 Mon, 02 Dec 2024 18:30:00 +0000 ?p=2693 The last time I wrote a blog entry, I talked extensively about getting back into writing fiction. I am proud to say that I’ve put myself in high gear on this front, and have no plans of slowing down anytime soon. The last three months, I have written, well, a lot. Update on the story I was working on back in September I was working on a piece called Abnormal back in September. I spent two months getting through two drafts of this project. I’ve made many changes, added chapters, and decided Abnormal works best as a novella as opposed to a short story. I’ve let Abnormal breathe during the month of November, and I’m about to dive back into editing. I hope to prepare Abnormal for beta readers (and if needed, a sensitivity read) by January. By the way, if you’re interested in beta or sensitivity reading, drop me a message. Miscellaneous writings in October I published a playlist to AudioPerfecta in October called Fall Moods: New Wave, Dance, Electronica, and More. I’ve been obsessed with this type of music for the past three months. I guess this isn’t a writing, but it is something published. Another project I completed in October, is a story titled: The Lion of Luisa. It’s a tragic high fantasy short story that differs quite a bit from my normal writing style. Side note, there is a companion sci-fi short story that I plan on editing sometime in the next year. Both stories came from an early version of Abnormal. They were my protagonist’s dreams, but I decided they just didn’t fit with the greater story. I decided that The Lion of Luisa and the companion story should be stand alone short stories instead. November Novella In November, I participated in a writer’s cohort through Willamette Writers. I set a goal to write a novella of 25,000 words. I finished said novella early and I ended up with a piece that is 30,000 words. This is the longest piece of writing I’ve ever written, and I’m damned proud of myself. The project is still just a rough draft, don’t get me wrong. It’s a total crap fest with plot holes, inconsistencies, and so many other problems, but first drafts are always crap. And it’s my crap. But you want to know more about the story, don’t you? The working title is “Anchor to the Real World” and it’s about a group of people who have special skills. One person can go without eating, one person can summon a hand held dragon, the protagonist can teleport herself and manifest bad coffee. Anchor to the Real World has several layers and a few subplots, so it’s not just about the “special skills” mind you. That’s just the setting. There’s a lot of interpersonal drama, a few twists you won’t see coming, and even a bit of personal growth. Also an anti-corporate sub message. I’m hoping Anchor To the Real World turns out to be a fun ride for my readers. When will it come out? Well, sorry, it might be awhile. Again, it’s in breathe mode and only a rough draft. I might try to work on it in January. Stay tuned! By the way, an extra big thanks to my partner, everyone in my various writers groups, as well as those in different social media platforms that have been encouraging me on this and other projects. Community makes all the difference in my creative endeavors. What will I be working on in December? Like I said earlier, my main project for December will be editing Abnormal. I’m looking forward to spending some time with Tessa (my protagonist). I only hope I don’t read it now and say “This is total crap!!!” But if I do, well, I can fix it I guess. I have a couple smaller projects at audioperfecta.com. The first is a playlist in honor of my 50th birthday! Yeah, I’m turning the big one – I’m scared. How did I get so old? But I digress. Anyways, I’m not sure what I’m putting on said playlist yet, I’ll be figuring that out over the next week or so. I’m thinking about “50 songs that make me happy,” or something like that. The other entry at AudioPerfecta will be my annual Holiday Hall of Shame! Yes, I’m bringing this series back like I’ve done for the past six years. I don’t know what songs I’ll be adding to this article, but I’m looking for ideas. If you know some truly heinous Christmas or holiday songs I’ve not included in previous years, let me know in the comments below! And what am I reading? In my last blog post, I mentioned I was reading This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amel El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. I’ve finished it, and I LOVED it. Like I seriously loved it. A twisted romance that spreads itself through time and space. The next thing I read was The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time by Mark Haddon. I’ll admit, I didn’t like this book at first. It was slow and hard to read – but this style sets up the protagonist and their voice. Once I got about halfway through, I really enjoyed the book. So be patient with this one, as it’s rewarding in the end. The next book I read was Bunny by Mona Awad. What. A. Trippy. Wonderful. Creepy. Odd. Beautiful. Freak of a book. To top it off, this was such a great read during the spooky season. It also makes me want to get an MFA in creative writing. Make of that what you will I guess. Finally, I read the book Normal People by Sally Rooney. This is a wonderful piece of art that frames the relationship between the two protagonists as they go through young adulthood. If I have to pick a favorite book out of the group, this is the one. In fact, this is probably my favorite read in several years. As far as what I’m currently reading, I’m nearing the end of Sunderworld V-01: The extraordinary disappointments of Leopold Berry by Ransom Riggs. It’s a fairly trippy book involving a secret and magical section of Los Angeles. I actually bought it after hearing Riggs himself read from the book. I then met the Riggs and got my copy signed, and I made myself a fool in front of him. I wanted to go back and say “I’m sorry I’m such a dork, I’m autistic!” But I digress. I’m also reading, a series of weird AF short stories from a book called Shit Cassandra Saw by Gwen E Kirby. These stories make Bunny look like a kids book! But It’s a fun read for certain. By the way, if you have a suggestion for something new to read, I’m always looking for my next read. I just ordered Geek Love by Katherine Dunn so I’ll be diving into that soon, but in a couple weeks when I finish, I’ll want something new. Come find me! That’s all for now. But if you want to keep in touch, come follow me at: Threads: Where I talk about my writing, neurodiversity, and any other topic that comes to mind. Bluesky: Where I attempt to mimic what I do in Threads. Facebook: Where I participate in a bunch of groups and share weird memes. Good Reads: Where I share what I’ve read, what I’m reading, and what I want to read. Tik Tok: Where I’m just silly. Thanks, everyone! Until next time. And be sure to check out AudioPerfecta.com later this month for the playlist and the Holiday, Hall of Shame! The post What Am I Reading, What Am I Writing: November/December 2024 appeared first on aaronjedwards.com. ]]> 2693 The Lion of Luisa the-lion-of-luisa/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-lion-of-luisa Tue, 22 Oct 2024 17:06:00 +0000 ?p=2678 This year’s October scary story is a little different. The Lion of Luisa was never supposed to be a stand-alone, but rather a dream in another story I am writing (more information here). This dream just didn’t fit the greater story, so I decided to replace it with another dream. I still wanted to do something with the Lion of Luisa though. I worked hard on it, and it deserves to be read. So, here we are. I will say this story isn’t scary in the traditional sense, but it does have a bone-chilling conclusion. I don’t want to spoil the rest of it, so let’s get right into things! The Lion of Luisa …I foresee a day when this statue will rise from its cement platform! When this giant lion will trample our enemies. When the mauve of his face, cobalt blue of his mane, and metallic gold body shall flex its gigantic muscles to lose its claws and devour our hated ones! These words, carved onto the base of the great lion, were just as mysterious as the lion itself, as no one knew who wrote the words. There were great debates, sure. Some say the great and ancient Queen, Lesthia. Some say an unknown scribe or the concubine of Kontani the Terrible. Skeptics even believed the words were written by a priest, not to prophesy a great and glorious victory over the Choliria, but as a ploy to rally support for a dying religion. Despite the debate on who wrote the prophecy, most believed it would, someday, come to fulfillment. The statue itself rose twenty feet from platform to head, and thirty-five feet from front paw to back end, with its tail neatly tucked to its left side. Its eyes were made of gigantic rubies and stood out of proportion to the rest of its body. A widely held belief is the statue could read one’s thoughts if one looked straight into the gigantic ruby eyes. The statue’s angry, open jaw gave the illusion of saliva dripping from its teeth, as though it could not wait to devour the evil before it. The statue’s platform felt out of place. While the lion had color – mauve, blues, and golds, the platform was just a slab of gray cement, three feet tall, and barely large enough to hold the lion. While the statue and the platform seemed like disconnected pieces, no one could separate the two. Of course, many had tried – be it with crowbars or strongmen, and even lasers – yet there seemed to be no way the statue could be separated from the platform. The lion almost seemed to be a prisoner of the platform. Perhaps the inability to separate the lion from the platform was the very thing that kept the people of Lusia believing in the prophecy. Still, some skeptics stated that the priests had developed a special glue to hold the statue in place, for until very recently, all scientific discoveries were known only by the priestly order. It’s probable and well believed that the priests held back at least some of their discoveries from the general public. Goodness knows that anyone else in their place would do the same thing. The lion was never known as a god, but rather as an agent of God. The lion would devour the people of Choliria like a servant bidding on his master, the protector of Lusia. While the people of Lusia did not regard the lion as a god, they knew it to be the only thing of this world directly touched by God, so the statue was revered as sacred. For decades, and maybe even centuries, the farmers would bring their first fruits of the season for the statue to eat. The fruit sat in the sun, rotting as the lion did not eat. The people of Lusia often wondered if the statue deemed the fruit unworthy. For countless seasons, the farmers strived to improve their crops, so as to feed the lion, but yet the lion would not eat. And then, one day a high priest Zebo theorized that the fruit was ok, but the statue could not reach the fruit. After all, the statue could not move. The people of Lusia began putting the fruit directly into the statue’s jaws. However, the statue still would not eat of the fruit. After two seasons, it was deemed a fast throughout the land was in order. On the forty-sixth day of fasting, the high priest Zebo announced a “vision” from God! No one had claimed to hear from God since the prophecy. The vision was of the lion speaking to the eldest and most revered priest, Malevo: Feed me not this fruit. It is lovely, it is tempting, it is indeed good. But the fruit is also wrong for me, the emissary of the judgment of god, to feast on anything but the flesh of the enemies of Lusia! Instead, feast on the first fruits yourselves in honor of the eminent victory over the enemies of Lusia! Feast in honor of their burned cities, of their flocks destroyed, of their gold, which you will use to build an eternal temple to the God who has sent me here. Everyone, even the skeptics, rejoiced upon this new prophesy. Many of the elderly and weak had died because of the great fast. Many poor families could not afford the first fruits, yet they gave them anyways. But now the sacrifices were over, and instead, replaced with a great feast – benefiting solely the population of Lusia. Much time had passed since the second prophecy. The Cholirians had requested a truce because of a great war between the Plasins of the Eastern seas. Because of the war, and the peace with the Cholirians, many of the Lusias believed the lion of the prophesy not to be the statue itself, but rather a symbol of the present time. Choliria was nearing defeat, and the lion had not sprung from his cement platform. Perhaps the cement platform represented the sea, for it was not till recently that the Plasins were able to build ships strong enough to free them from their islands in the East. But the faithful believed this was all in line with the great prophesy, and one of two things could happen. The lion might rise from his platform just in time to smash Choliria in the name of the God of the Lusias – snatching victory from the Plasins. The second option, the Plasins would be defeated, and the Statue would rise at a later date. Six months more passed, and the Plasins had destroyed Choliria. The cities were burned, and the people were either dead or enslaved in crowded camps on the coast. Most of the country was uninhabited. It was decided by the priests of Lusia that a party should be sent to scout out the land. The road into Lusia led past the statue. As the small party trekked past the lion, they stopped to say a prayer… “Oh great beast of Gold, oh, symbol and champion of the God of Lusia. See here, before you! The cities of our enemies have been burned, the people, gone – enslaved or dead! Oh, be merciful to us. If ye shall rise now, know that we, of Lusia, are amongst the ruins of the Cholirians. We enter to find what spoils we may, so we might build a great and wonderful temple to our God, to your master.” An hour later, the party had crossed the border. It had been centuries since any Lusia had walked in the lands of the Cholirians, and they knew not what to expect. As they approached the northernmost settlement of Claeb (also known as Itgobde), they found a cement platform, almost identical to that which the statue stood upon. Near the statue base was a golden body, much like that of the lion, and a shattered head made of the colors mauve and blue. An exact duplicate of the statue. Destroyed. “Surely, this must be some kind of joke!” “No, it must be of the Cholirian god. He has been defeated, so his champion has died. Their wicked ways consumed by our god, by the God of the Lusias!” We are not amongst those who should discuss this matter. Let us do what we were sent to do, and report of this to the priests upon our return.” “Aye! It is the best plan. The priests are wise, and we are fools.” The men, seven in all, agreed and moved on. Most of what they found in Claeb was broken. The city stood in ruins and the Plasins had taken all they could carry back with them to their sea dragons. Still, the party found more than enough gold, jewelry, and fine pottery to carry back with them. They decided to grab what they could and depart for home. Two days later, the party crossed the border into Lusia, and saw the cement platform of the statue, but not the lion. Glory! The statue has risen! The prophecy has been fulfilled! Let us go inform our fellow citizens of Luisa so we might feast! But, cautiously, one of the men approached the platform to find an inscription where the lion once sat. The letters read: Beware of words spoken of this, the lion, the statue. They shall lead you to death and destruction. Verily, I say, there is another lion, and the two lions are linked; they are but mates. If one has been destroyed the other shall roam the ends of the world for all of eternity, for the two lions are linked. And the two lands on which the lions sit are linked. If one is destroyed, the other shall fall. The End I hope you enjoyed this story. Usually, I would link to some of my other stories, however, I am in the process of rewriting a few of them. For instance, I totally rewrote the story of the Purple T Rex. It’s so much better than the version that appears on this site. I’m not sure where I might publish it yet, but it’s coming. Happy October everyone, and may it be spooky and scary, but not too scary. The post The Lion of Luisa appeared first on aaronjedwards.com. ]]> 2678 What am I writing, and what am I reading? what-am-i-writing-and-what-am-i-reading/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=what-am-i-writing-and-what-am-i-reading Tue, 17 Sep 2024 17:17:00 +0000 ?p=2658 While I use this website traditionally for personal essays, informative articles, and the occasional October Scary Story, this post will be more of a blog style. I am embarking on some new writing projects, and I am really really really excited about it Yes, really! What, pray tell is that project, well I am so glad you asked! What am I writing? The short version: I picked up a story I started about sixteen years ago and decided I needed to finish this damned thing. The story follows a woman living in a world that values hyper normalcy above all other values, and her struggle living in said world. When I started writing the story, I had no idea that I was talking about neurodivergence. I knew nothing about the subject and I had no idea that I had autism. Now I understand, and now I know what I was trying to convey through that story. But I digress. Do you want a sneak preview? I know you do. Just remember, this is a ROUGH draft and there WILL be typos, spelling errors, awkward language, and the like. You have been warned. As soon as Tessa finishes talking, she sheds her jacket to reveal a mauve tank top, and a large pair of white feathered wings. She spreads her wings and takes to the sky. Racing towards the sun, Tessa flies past a flock of wild geese. “Squawk! Squawk!” The lead goose scolds Tessa as if to say “get out of our way, human!” Tessa laughs, and swoops downwards to a quiet beach. As Tessa lands, she sees a giant cave leading towards – who knows where. Suddenly she finds herself whirling like a funnel cloud down through the the cave. She nearly crashes into a stalagmite as she travels the path of the cave. The cave slopes downwards, slightly at first, but steeper the further she travels. Finally she drops straight down, into a hole. “How far did I just drop?” Tessa asks no one but herself, “100, 200 feet?” As Tessa looks ahead, the cave is lit up – somehow. There is no light source, but there is plenty of light. Tessa looks at the brown and grayish stones lining the walls and walks forwards for what feels like ten miles until she comes to a hole that leads straight up. Again, she spreads her angel like wings and flies upwards. Upwards. Upwards. Until finally she reaches the surface. She looks around to see no land, only sea. Tessa has no idea which direction to find shore, but she doesn’t care – she knows she can find her way back. Tessa looks around from about fifty feet in the air, and sees a hammerhead shark playing with a humpback whale. She flies into the water and joins in their game. First the hammerhead tosses a ball to Tessa, who tosses the ball to the whale, who tosses the ball back to the hammerhead and back once more to Tessa. And then they play hide and seek in a coral reef. There you go. The very first preview of my latest magnum opus. Seriously though, thank you for reading it. I am super excited about this project. Why am I concentrating on fiction right now? Good question, I am so very glad you asked! OK, ok, it was me that asked on your behalf, but I am sure some of my readers are wondering why I chose to pick up this story at this time. A few weeks back, I was in my head just a bit too much. I had a free day, so I picked up a graphic novel and headed out to explore the brand-new lobby at PDX (stunning remodel by the way). The graphic novel I took with me to read on the MAX was It’s Lonely at the Center of the Earth by Zoe Thorogood. Quite an amazing autobiographical story that made me realize – I need to create. More importantly, I need to write fiction. I don’t know what about this story inspired me to do so, like I said, it’s an autobiography and not a work of fiction. Nevertheless, it did the job. For the record, I could not be happier with this course correction. I love my work at audioperfecta, and plan to continue there (as well as the occasional piece on this website). That being said, I am always at my best when I prioritize fiction. And why am I writing/finishing this particular story? Well, I have no freaking idea. It was just a flash of inspiration I guess. Maybe there’s a bit of subconscious involved. As I said, this story is all about dealing with a neurotypical world when one is neurodivergent. This topic has been on my mind for several months, as I dive into the rabbit hole of what it means to a late 40s person to find out that – hey, I’m autistic! There are also a few other stories in my backlog I am working on or at least plan on working on. I of course have an October Scary Story coming up. I also have a short short story going up on Medium fairly soon. Heck, the other day I reviewed an even older story (9000 words long and unfinished) that I thought was garbage, but now I think I might just want to rewrite and finish it sometime soon. Any other recommendations on good reads? Why yes, yes I do! I am currently reading This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amel El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. The book is a time travel fantasy written from the point of view of two different characters. Quite interesting, and has even had some influence in the story I am currently writing. I’ve also been reading the Phonogram graphic novel series. If you like music and you like fantasy, you have to read this series! Another graphic novel worth checking out, Satelite Falling by Steve Horton (someone I grew up with). A creative story about a human living in an alien world, and the problems she encounters. Oh, and if you’re into Transformers, the new Image Comics series is amazing. I also want to mention two short film channels. There’s Dust, a sci-fi anthology channel created by different filmmakers. Three films in particular I recommend: Home In Time, A Week With Rebeca, and Freya. Another channel, Omleto, is in a similar vein – well, not scifi, but an anthology of amazing short stories by various filmmakers. Three to check out: Pickled Herring, Night Cafe, and Vanilla. A few books and graphic novels I have on my to-read list: Rose Volume 1, The Last Night, Snotgirl: Green Hair Don’t Care, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the NightTime, and Shit Casandra Saw: Stories. Oh, and the song “Dancing With Tears in My Eyes” by Ultravox is on perpetual repeat in my head right now. A damned sad song, but so good! Go listen to it! Right now! I’m serious. Come find me! Want to know more about what I am up to? Come follow me at: Threads: Where I talk about my writing, neurodiversity, and any other topic that comes to mind. Medium: Where I share some of my favorite writings. Facebook: Where I participate in a bunch of groups and share weird memes. Good Reads: Where I share what I’ve read, what I’m reading, and what I want to read. Tik Tok: Where I’m just silly. Thanks, everyone! Until next time. The post What am I writing, and what am I reading? appeared first on aaronjedwards.com. ]]> 2658

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