$1850000 :: 4820 Eagle Lake Dr, Fort Collins CO, 80524 – Fort …
Property Type: Vacant Land/Lots MLS Number: 572906. Community: Fort Collins Tract: Could Be Eagle Lake The price of this listing was last reduced on 7/25/2009 by 8%. 80 acre lakefront estate 10 minutes N of downtown Ft Collins. … read more…
MediaMyopic » Buying Lake Land From Developers
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Buying lakefront land in a US doesn’t have to be difficult. Lake land for sale in a US have been proof a renouned investment event due to a nonesuch of land, as a direct for lakefront land in a United States continues to rise, … read more…
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Resolved Question: What could this dream possibly mean?
I’m usually pretty good at figuring out what my dreams are telling me, but this one was very vivid and it actually woke me up.
So, I go to get in bed, and I get into a tub full of water. I notice algae and lake weed and such in the water, so I move it to the corner of the tub. I see frog eggs and so I put them under some leaves so they stay safe.
I get comfy and then I see a gigantic black widow. And not only is it gigantic, but it almost looks like a stuffed animal, but it also looks very real. It’s pincher/teeth/fang thing in the front is in a U shape, and its going back and forth like pulling hoodie strings in and out of both sides of your hood. It crawls over and keeps messing with me like it’s going to jump on me. It finally lands on me and I woke up gasping and shaking. I woke up my husband, lol.
I can’t figure that out at all. It might’ve just been a bunch of garbled information, but when dreams are just garbage, I don’t recall them in such detail.
I’m not really that afraid of spiders. I don’t like poisonous ones in my home or touching me but if they’re outside, it’s their home and I don’t care that they are there. I also like swimming in creeks and lakes more than pools.
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Resolved Question: What do you think of this story?
Long, blonde hair billowed in the wind. A young girl’s head was buried in a book. This afternoon seemed like every other. Her delicate pale fingers silently turned a faded page. Nature’s chorus was the only sound to be heard.
A sudden shriek from a crow caused the girl to jolt her head upwards. ‘Blasted creatures!’ She thought to herself. She placed her book on the stone tomb of which she sat and looked around. She was used to the grave and grimness of the cemetery. It was where she felt most at home. She looked around, and almost immediately, her eyes surprisingly cast upon a new addition. On the horizon she could see a grey, still silhouette. She picked up her favourite novel, and began pacing towards the water feature surrounding it.
She looked over to the island sitting in the middle of a lifeless pond. She dipped her bare foot into the murky pool. A chill climbed up her spine. She smiled. This was going to be her own mini adventure! And thus, she hauled up her pinafore above her ankles, and pulled back her bonnet. She waded through the sludge to the dry land in front, careful not to dampen her book.
She stood opposite her discovery. From the knee downwards, she was soaking. She hadn’t thought about the deepness of the pond, or the consequences of her brief journey. She padded towards the figure, grass tickling her toes. She hummed a tune, and flicked at the huge white statue. It was the figure of a woman, sitting and reading. She was dressed in clothes very similar to the child. She stepped back to admire the beauty. As she turned to leave, the statue seemed to flinch. The girl gasped in shock as it inhaled deeply. The girl began to panic.
“May I help you dear?” The stone lady inquired. She actually seemed rather kind, and not at all monster-like as the girl suspected.
“Umm, n-n-no.” She whimpered and spun round to run off, but before she could the statue spoke again.
“Don’t go … please.” The creature looked melancholy. “It is so very lonely on this island.”
The little lass shook her head in pity and wandered back towards the small lake. She had wanted an adventure but this was too much.
“If you stay, I shall tell you a story.” The statue offered.
The girl sat down on the grass and accepted the statue’s proposal. She liked nothing more than a decent story! And so, the tales began.
After that meeting, almost everyday, the girl visited her secret story teller. It spoke of damsels, dashing knights and impossible places. All the same, both of the two seemed happy in each other’s presence. That is, until one day. The girl had grown curious about the living sculpture. Why was it here, in the cemetery? How could it speak and breathe? After must thought and consideration, she eventually plucked up the courage to ask it. Her grandmother did always say “If you don’t ask you will never get.” When the girl did, the statue seemed very quiet. It wouldn’t answer her questions. This frustrated the little girl, and so she continued querying the statue until it couldn’t take it anymore. And eventually it snapped. Literally.
Marble hands wrapped around the child’s neck. Tighter and tighter until she began to choke. Her lungs felt as though they were filling up with cement. She couldn’t move her feet, they were stuck deep in the ground. Her arms seized up and her neck became stiff. Her skin remained pale, but began to harden. Crag wings emerged from her back. Nothing more than a hoarse whisper wheezed out of her mouth. But she was screaming on the inside. And then, inexplicably, the creature that once told the child tales of wonder became sand.
A stone angel stood forlorn on the horizon. Dust and other particles danced in the wind. A crumpled ‘missing’ poster rolled past the statues feet. And as ever and always, the little girl was home.
okay, the girl is now a statue,
and the old one has just crumbled up.
I am glad you liked my story!!!
The girl might go a bit mad if someone asks her about her death because it was a pretty lame way to die. Being strangled by a statue that tells fairytales!!!
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Resolved Question: ….”SO TRYING”……?
Now this is a little storey,
I want you all to see.
The way he tried to get me,
Where I didn’t want to be.
He tried me on the sofa,
He tried me on the chair.
He tried me on the window sill,
But he couldn’t get it there.
He tried me in the bedroom,
I stood against the wall.
I even lay upon the floor,
Then leaned against the door.
He worked it backwards and forwards,
He tried both front and rear.
But it was all too useless boys,
The thing was out of gear.
So he tried me in the kitchen,
And then upon the stairs.
He even tried the garden bench,
Among the apples and pears.
He tried me on his motor bike,
My kegs across the seat.
But this position was too high,
And our eyes they would not meet.
So he took me to the park land,
And lay me on the grass.
He tried again around the lake,
I just sat there on my ass.
Then he tried me on the back seat,
Of his favourite motor car.
I didn`t mind that so much,
But the seat it was so hard.
So he took me to the golf course,
Where the balls were flying high.
We couldn`t find a likely spot,
Without getting one in the eye.
He tried me down a country lane,
I leaned against a tree.
He tried to have me where I stood,
But it wasn`t the liking for me.
He took me down the river side,
And sat me on a boat.
I didn`t really mind that so much,
But the bloody thing didn`t float.
So I had to take my clothes off,
And hang them on a tree.
He even tried it once again,
To have a go at me.
So, we went back home to his place,
And on a chair I sat.
My legs across the armrest,
I held a fluffy cat.
He tried it in this and that way,
And Oh how did I laugh.
To see how many ways he tried………..
TO TAKE MY PHOTOGRAPH.
Kiera…….That is beautifull……But its not what others can advise. Its whats inside yourself and your feelings that makes a good poem.
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