MoriaCavandish
Bio
Born and raised on the beautiful West Coast in British Columbia Canada
All stories, poems, erotica and works are the sole property of
Moria Cavandish 2004- 2023
Stories (55)
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Banana Bread
Banana Bread Ready in 1 ½ hours Serves~ 6 people I believe that recipes are guidelines, these can be switched and changed, I grew up with a very hard working mother, gone from morning to dark every day to support our family of 4. Yet she always had time to back for our school lunches. I miss those days, don't we all? The simplicity of being a child, where our only responsibility was to clean our rooms and put our laundry in the hamper. My fondest memories were of me and my mother, on sick days. She would wait until my two sisters were gone to school and me being the slow poke of her three girls, she would look at me and say, "You look sick." with a smile on her face. I remember the excitement, knowing what those words would bring. She would put on her vinyl, Loverboy, or Bob Segar, sometimes a bit of Red Rider, but most fondly I remember the Beatles, and crank the knob. Mouthwatering peanut butter cookies! My job was to press the fork into each one making tail criss cross markings. I remember the joy of opening my lunch box and seeing that shiny apple and those hand made cookies. It's a tradition I kept with my son. Who doesn't need a sick day here and there? Banana bread was rare in our house, we were on a budget and with three girls there were rarely any bananas left. But that thick warm bread with butter melting down our fingers still so fresh in my mind. It's a memory I hold so dearly. Now as I was saying above recipes are guidelines, change it up, add walnuts, or raisins, my partner loves chocolate chips in his. It's personal when we bake, these recipes are more than just recipes. They are words of love, personal gifts we give our children, family and friends. It's almost like magic, a pinch of this and a dollop of that, mix it up with a smile. Don't get me started on how it filled our homes with blissful smells that will stay with us for a lifetime. Food is for sharing, when you give someone food, it is saying I love you, and I want to give you something of myself.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Feast
Humanity during Covid
Hello my friends, are you well? Keeping safe? There has been a great deal of talk whether this virus is real if it's dangerous. If masks help, if they don't. I personally believe there is a virus out there, like influenza but far worse, it can be dangerous, to those with compromised immune systems even worse, and to those that don't, it's a crap shoot my friends, and maybe it targets certain genetic dispositions. Is it man made, or just mother nature fed up? I'd rather be safe than sorry, and the truth is I hate wearing a mask, but it makes other people feel better, safer so I wear it. Not because the government told me to, but because both my parents have weak immune systems. I do it for them. I don't believe in vaccines, yet respect your right to believe in them. Why? because we still have the flu. Even with a vaccine. I respect other people's fear. I pray for those that have died from it, and those fighting it. But I will not believe in fake news, I will not succumb to mass hysteria nor will not argue with people. Be safe, be kind and most of all remember we are human beings. Sadly this pandemic has brought out the worst in humanity. I'm embarrassed aren't you? There are people spitting on their fellow man, sticking their fingers in containers of food and putting them back on shelves, people are attacking one another over toilet paper? screaming at workers that are just doing their jobs. Hoarding food, cleaners and toilet paper, ignoring the people that can't just go out and get them. Where has humanity gone? Have we really gotten to a dog eat dog world, where the strongest survive? What happens when these people are in the position of the less fortunate?
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in The Swamp
The Hume Hotel
The Hume Hotel in Nelson British Columbia is said to be one of the most haunted buildings in the city. Build-in 1898, by Fred, and Lydia Hume. Back then it was extragivant, a modern wonder, with steam heat and electricity, hundreds flocked to be part of history. Rich and poor enjoyed the ammenties provided. Some say the owners and guests have come back even after death. Over time guests have reported strange encounters, some feel as if they are being watched or followed into their rooms and down hallways when there is no one else around. Some say that the origonal owners still reside there.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Horror
When no one is looking
We are all creation of love, without it we wither and die. To those that have much, share with those that have less. Be kind to that woman sitting on the sidewalk asking for help, shes not a bum, she doesn't want to be there either. Her husband died and she couldnt afford to pay her rent.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Poets
Family
Peaceful Warriors~breaking the cycle Do you remember your childhood? What memories haunt you, which comfort you? We were all so strong and confident, so ready to take on the world, we had power in our imagination, and we had nothing but strength in our hands and hearts. Our dreams were everything. Children are innocent, gloriously innocent, they still believe in the world around us, don’t take that from your children, let them play, let them get dirty, let them fall, then pick them up,and tell them to try again, how you speak to them holds a huge impact on their mental and emotional states. If a child is taught they are useless, dumb, inadequete that is what they believe, and that is who they become, don’t be like your parents, don’t drown them in your own issues, don’t talk about your bills, and your mortgage and how much you hate your job, the word hate breeds hate, it teaches them to be angry. Be better than our parents, teach them good things, teach them that there is no limit to what they can become or achieve. Show them mercy, and they will show others mercy. Don’t strike them, it takes away their trust, and you are their heroes. Don’t take that from them. Fathers are honest, strong, faithful and protective, mothers are loving, strong and kind they are teachers. Teach them that no matter what the truth is always better than being right.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Families
Forever my love
My throat hurt, but coughing hurt more. Black thick smoke curled around my body, I knew I should get up, but this lethargy seemed to fill my bones making them as heavy as stone. My head was still bleeding, the lock stuck and when I’d pulled too hard on the old handle it snapped clean off, I fell, knocking myself out. The heavy door slammed shut about the time I’d passed out. Heavy boxes fell on top of my legs, I was trapped. I could hear faintly the sound of sirens but they seemed a lifetime away, the shrieking siren, the firemen trying so desperately to find me. They wouldn't, they couldn't. No one knew I was in the attic; cleaning up a lifetime of memories, angry because I'd asked him to do it a thousand times. How ironic, I lifted my head slightly, a smile on my already numb lips. I fought with my husband that morning, sending him off with neither a kiss or a smile. He leaned in, kissed an ungrateful cheek and said. "I love you my dearest Jane, even when you are mad.” Strange, was that normal before you died? To think of your life, your failures, your mistakes and embarrassments? But then I met you, your blue eyes sparkled when they saw me, and only me. I felt whole, I pulled myself onto my elbow. I felt tears slid down my cheeks, what a fool, what a waste, dumb arguments, holding grudges, little white lies. I coughed, I could hear them down stairs chopping down walls, calling out for me. I coughed, my head was too heavy to stay up, so I laid it down. I couldn't do it. I closed my eyes, my life playing like a movie in my mind. My children, my parents, my family. I tried to scream, but nothing would come out, I tried again and again, coughing and sputtering. That horrible black cloud lowering itself inch by inch. There weren't any inches left. At the end, when it's almost time to say Goodnight folks! A tiny spark inside me exploded, this speck of light that grew and grew, it was me, my soul in all its glory, reaching, and fighting, I knew he would find me, maybe not in life, but surely in death. Our love was that true, it is that true. I love you, yes I love you Jonathen. I knew in my heart, my soul as it reassured me, at the same time it reached with hands outstretched, to get out, to rise above that black acrid, toxic cloud that was now on me, around me, twisted between my legs and under my arms, sliding warm and thick trough my clothing and across my belly, making its way to my mouth. I screamed, and it engulfed me, filling my mouth. It tasted of death, and my frantic fingertips reached for the trap door, the handle still broken, the door was so heavy, and my limbs even heavier.. My darling Jonathen, I’m here, I'm here. Had I screamed that? No, I knew it was just in my head
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Humans
Growing old is a Gift
What is it like being one year from the big 50? It's such a loaded question. I look back and it amazes me that I’m this old. It also reminds me of my failures, my mistakes, my joys and triumphs. All I can say about life so far. It's a bit of a drama, a few tear jerkers and a lot of comedy. Which year is my favorite year? Every single one. Which is my least favorite? Every single one. Being a parent was and is the most amazing thing that whatever creator or alien or whatever the latest conspiracy theorist believes being a parent is the most amazing frightening crazy time of a person's life. The struggle, the wonder if you will kill them before they turn 18.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Longevity
The Spider and the Dragonfly
Good morning my darlings, how are we all today? Breath, remember to breathe, you're not alone, I know it feels like that sometimes, and I know how it can destroy a day, a week, or a month. I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel just not in the way you might think. The light is coming from you, not the end of your journey. After all, as Budha said there is no end, just new beginnings. Each depended on your own karma. I hold onto that, it gives me comfort. I used to feel alone, which is somewhat true. We come into this earth alone and naked, and we end that life the same way. You take nothing and nobody with you. I came from a very violent traumatic childhood that shaped how I grew from a child to adolescent, to an adult. I am still working hard to change the pathways in my brain, find better, healthier defense mechanisms to ‘Save myself’ from situations, in fact from mostly everything. I have good days where I bounce out of bed, and get the day started. Today isn’t one of them, but I have learned to use tools, coping strategies. I say this with respect, but no one can save you but you. I like that saying. I am in my late forties, and have suffered from multiple mental health issues. I used to go to the doctor, hoping for help, or councollers. And some were good, some were terrible. My first stay in a phyciatric unit was in a small community, Sechelt BC. I went in feeling drained, afraid and suicidal. I was expecting.. I'm not sure what I expected, other than simply help a little bit of compassion and understanding. I was mortified to find out it's not always the case. Talk about bursting a bubble. The nurses were tired and overworked, there were a few nice people, but one thing I learned was that doctors, therapists, nurses they are all just human beings with their own damaged psyche. Some are just able to hide it better than me. After two days, I was told I had to leave. I was shocked, I still felt bad, felt like killing myself and they were going to send me home. I did something I never had before. I begged. I begged with tears streaming down my face, please do not release me yet I told this psychiatrist. I knew in my heart I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t feeling strong enough to be out on my own. My family hadn’t come to see me, no one said anything, mental health was a dirty little secret that no one wants to admit or talk about. I was alone. After an exchaused sigh he looked right at me and said if your going to kill yourself, get it over with. My mouth dropped open, how could anyone say something so cruel, A physiatrist at that. To this day, his words haunt me every morning I wake up.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Psyche
Just keep it Annie
Conner was still grumbling as he sped out of the highschool parking lot. His silverado made enough noise to wake the dead. At least that's what his grandfather used to tell him. But his thoughts came back to the situation at hand. Peggy Thomspons had just dumped him outside of the highschool gym. For A jerk named Richie Sanders. A string of obscenities flew out of his mouth. Why, because Richie’s family had money, Not just money, they were filthy rich. No one family should have so much money when others had to work so hard for it.
By MoriaCavandish5 years ago in Horror
