%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| PROMPT May 30th Congratulations on making it to the last day of the competition! What was your favorite prompt from the last month? What was the most rewarding aspect of participating in the competition? What did you learn? Oh, how this month has flown by. We bloggers have stumbled to the finish line , still raring to go. Release the celebratory balloons. Let's clap each other on the shoulder and high-five, or fist bump. I don't recall breaking into a sweat, or veering off the course. I find myself awaiting ,with bated breath, each day's prompt. Some I greet with enthusiasm and others cause me to scratch my head and stare off into the unseen distance seeking a moment of brilliance, clarity, inspiration. This May my 'thinker' has been exercised, but all the stretching hasn't left me permanently scarred. I believe I still possess some thoughts to be translated into words. Did I discover a favourite prompt? Yes, I did, three in fact. The "I used to believe" prompt from May 7th nudged me to be creative and reply in the voice of a housecat dismayed with the Covid-19 quarantine. The May 14th prompt re the best or worst letter I ever received or wrote flushed out some wonderful memories shared with my two eldest grandgiggles. For a time, they corresponded with me in the personas of two sister bed-making fairies and I replied to them as a grateful and curious bed owner. I love their imaginations! For the May 22nd prompt re music and memories, I wrote from the viewpoint of my British mom-in-law who resided in London during WWII. She still vividly remembers VE Day and the exuberant celebrations in the streets. At long last, after nearly six years of war, the Germans had surrendered and all of England rejoiced. She lived and breathed that historical event. I like the spontaneity of replying to a daily prompt. In a short time, I must write something. It's not always polished. It's not always coherent. It's not always my best, but it is an effort, an attempt to express myself. I look forward to reading the blogs of my fellow bloggers. I am never disappointed with their writings and I anticipate our shared comments. We all compose with the same alphabet and the same plethora of words, yet we weave them, mold them, contort them, fashion them into unique offerings. This is amazing! Thank you 30 DBC Word Wizards! |
| PROMPT May 29th When I was little, I dreamed of living in a treehouse surrounded by a pool with a spiral staircase going up the middle of the trunk. In your second to last entry of the month, write about your dream home. Describe the rooms in your fantasy house and any unique characteristics. Be creative! Whew, pant, pant...it's been far too humid recently. I hate to admit it, but I think I miss the winter temperatures. I'm envisioning my dream home to be an ice castle impervious to heat waves. Before this 'torture' I would've described my dream abode as a cedar, redwood and red brick edifice built on Vancouver Island. All of the generous windows would be placed to frame the spectacular view of majestic mountains and the Pacific Ocean. The upper deck that would follow the length of my home is constructed of cedar, black wrought iron and plexiglass panels so as not to impede my lofty view. Of course, I'd want an open concept interior, light and airy. Throw in cathedral ceilings for soaring space. May I have an elevator installed? Stairs and I do not see eye to eye. One wing , a magnificent glass statement, will house my indoor swimming pool. The kitchen will be a generous size with my first ever baking island. Both the deck and the master ensuite will feature hot tubs. Ah, bliss... Another wing will house my extensive and comfortable library complete with window nook seating. Sigh, the enormous master bedroom will be replete with walk-in closets and more than enough room to traverse the king-sized bed with ease. Hurray, no more shuffle, shuffle, side-step around my bed! But wait, I now desire an ice castle, so... I'd erect my ice palace in Quebec, Northern Quebec to be precise. I'd set it amongst an evergreen forest with a crystal clear lake in my front yard. The ice could not and would not ever melt. All the interior and exterior lighting would be ice chandeliers meant to refract all illumination and glimmer like millions of stars. To descend from the upper floor, I would swoop down a giant indoor slide. The flooring would glisten and should I grow weary of shuffling about, I could simply lace on a pair of skates and glide along. Little wee nooks and crannies would be carved into the walls to provide reading refuges. They'd be made alluring with blankets and pillows of rainbow hues. Several immense fireplaces would be built into the rooms and they'd glow with a welcoming warmth. With a few candelabras, imagine the flickering ambiance. Well, not now, but in the depths of a howling winter. Oh, I'd still want an indoor heated pool and a hot tub. Imagine the cozy steam. The thick ice walls would absorb sound and create a serene haven. My ice castle would be an oasis of calm. In the gourmet kitchen it would never dare to be too hot to bake. Unexpected visitors arrive? Cut new, fresh seating from blocks of ice. Another indisputable bonus to an ice house? Insects would avoid it. Hah, try to bite me there mosquitos and blackflies. In the here and now, these voracious buggers hover just outside the door and windows biding their time and knowing I cannot hide indoors forever. A miserably over-heated, itchy girl can dream, can't she? |
| PROMPT May 28th Help me fill the Challenge War Chest with new prompts! In your entry today, write at least three prompts to be used in future rounds of the 30DBC. Then, write the rest of your entry using one of your own prompts. Well, okay, since you asked nicely, here are a few prompts... in no particular order, or preference. Five problems with social media. Would you rather have a life rewind button, or a life pause button? Would you rather be stuck in an elevator, or stuck in a ski lift? Write a letter to a fictional character you created. Write an awful advice column. Would you rather be an adult your whole life, or be a kid your whole life? Would you rather have more time, or have more money? My favourite sound is ______. Here is my chosen prompt du jour: Write an awful advice column. Why not? People tend to ignore advice anyway, good or bad. Dear Seeker of My Nuggets of Wisdom, The first thing I will impress upon you is you are all alone in this big wide world. No one will grant you any favours. If you want something, you must make an effort to grab it by the horns, or the handle bars, or the rope, or the leg, or the latch, or whatever. Waste no time or valuable physical expenditure being polite. Where will that get you? Who respects, or expects that nonsense? Oh, and don't accept no as an answer. When stopped and inconvenienced in a line, do not under any circumstances stand there idly tapping your feet and glaring at the others in front of you. Take action. If the line will not move, you move. Hustle to the front of the line by any means necessary. Push, shove, trip, divert, be physical. No need to use your voice and speak your intentions. You don't have all day to waste waiting for who knows how long. Surely, you have plans you don't want thwarted, or postponed. You are not a sheep blindly following the leader. In a group situation with mingling persons forget the old rules of give and take, wait your turn, and listen without interrupting. Do you have something you're just dying to say? Are you forced to fidget and bite your tongue? Why should you listen to someone else and yet another? How are you supposed to remember the point you wish to make? Spit it out! Blurt it out. Say what's on your mind. Your thoughts are important. Do not anticipate an opening. Spew, rant, rave, pontificate when you wish. We wait too much, don't you agree? Everything we encounter involves us waiting. We wait in lines to purchase items or conduct business. We wait to get a word in edgewise in a conversation. We wait at stop signs, red lights, and for pedestrians. Irksome, eh? We're expected to do this without complaint, to be polite and considerate. The next time you are stewing behind a stopped vehicle that clearly should be proceeding forward, honk your vehicle's horn. Let it blare. Let it irritate. That's what a horn is meant to do. Do not fret about that other driver's reasons, or concerns. Let them feel your annoyance. DISCLAIMER: I am Canadian and these obnoxious solutions / behaviours are not in my DNA. Sigh... I wait in lines all the time. Yes, sometimes I am impatient, but I would never usurp someone else's place in line. I initiate a conversation to pass the time. When I hear a car horn, I think what's your problem? We're all temporarily stuck. I try to wait my turn to contribute to a conversation, but certain talkers love the sound of their own voices. Being polite isn't always easy, eh? |
| PROMPT May 27th If your life were a song, 1) what genre would it be, 2) who would sing it, and 3) would it be a hit? I'm scratching my head and pondering this prompt. Oh, I can recall many songs and their unforgettable lyrics, but I cannot fathom a tune about my life. And a hit song to boot? Nah, not about me! I can understand a swat, or a slap, or a poke, or a punch-to -the-shoulder, but not a hit. Is there a ridiculous song genre? Is there a meh, run-of-the-mill genre? I can't quite see my life portrayed in an achy-breaky-cryin'-whinin'-bluesy country song. An upbeat Top 40 dance number wouldn't portray me either. May a habitual klutz expect to hear about her unfortunate accidents set to music? Do humorous / comedy songs have their own category? Why is Frank Sinatra's hit I Did It My Way blaring in my skull? First of all, I'm not a man, so that line what is a man doesn't apply. Hmmm... So, must this potential ditty have words? For some unknown reason, I'm hearing Big Band Music, swing-type stuff. Can you hear it? All the instruments are blending beautifully. The horn and saxophone vie for attention with the piano and drums. This music is fun and upbeat. I definitely do not want my life to be remembered as a polka. That one-two-three constant beat and the hop/skip dance step is not me. Perhaps it hits too close to my walking style? Stomping and clomping have been my signature moves for most of my ambulatory life and the hesitation between each step is similar to the polka downbeat. I've never really learned to like beer and lederhosen is not a good look for me either. Hearing someone bellow, roll out the barrel, or she's too fat for me would not be the least inspirational. I might be amenable to my life represented in a rap. I'm not referring to the gangsta-gun toting-hate women stuff. I like the rhymes and word plays of a rap, and the usual fast pace. My life has spiralled along much too quickly. Can I get a 'yo?' What about a 'hey?' "I'm a writa, in flighta, weavin' dope words to be heard..." No? |
| PROMPT May 26th Complete the following sentence: When I’m in the mood to celebrate, nothing can stop me from ___________. Well, well, what can I write? What will be my answer? The too obvious reply is celebrating, isn't it? I mean if I'm in the mood I'm in the mood. How could I not then celebrate? Okay, that's far too simple. How about sharing it? When I'm in the mood to celebrate, nothing can stop me from sharing it. There may be enthusiastic high-fives exchanged, maybe a bear hug, or two. Yes, I realize not everyone would necessarily want to celebrate with me, but I'd most likely be insistent. My feelings of euphoria would want to overthrow all things negative. I can picture spontaneous dancing with jig-like high stepping and plenty of twirling. Yes, I'd probably link arms with someone and pull them along. Their stumbles would match mine. Silly, uncoordinated movements should provoke a reluctant smile or two. Right now, I'm humming, "Celebrate, celebrate, dance to the music!" Picture the delighted antics of athletes after they score a touchdown, or a basket, or a hole in one. They know how to celebrate. Of course, I'd accept and downright encourage cheering with a few loud 'woohoos' and 'hurrahs.' Singing out loud and off-key is also okay. If my fellow rabble rousers don't know the words they can fake it, or hum. When I'm in the mood to celebrate, nothing can stop me from expressing it. Oh, you'll know when I'm happy. You'll both hear and see me. I do, however, draw the line at executing somersaults, hand springs, and cartwheels. If those were at all remotely possible, I'd never stop celebrating. |
| PROMPT May 25th What is the most useless skill you have? The most valuable? "Are you watching, Nanna? Did you see that?" I look up at Emily, nod my head and reply in the affirmative. She stares back and awaits some clarification. She wishes me to critique and praise her efforts. I murmur her speed took away my breath and she made the cartwheel look easy. I also praise her hard work and persistence, mentioning I could never execute such a bold move. With a grin, Emily cartwheels across the beach sand kicking up a cloud of dust. "What about those ones? Were they good? I ran and hopped for these ones. Mom doesn't let me do them at home." I again agree that she is talented. I'm impressed. I clap my hands and salute her. Satisfied, Emily runs off to the swings and for a few minutes there is silence. "Nanna, Nanna. Look at this. 'Member I never did this before? See? I don't fall now." This time, my seven-year old grandgiggle hugs a pole with her arms and legs and slides to the ground. She is correct. The summer before, she forgot the hug manoeuvre and always plummeted, hard. Next, she traverses the length of a horizontal metal pole, hand over hand. In the past, I held her wiggling torso up and supported her weight while she swayed along. Emily and I both 'see' her increased strength and we both beam with pride. Emily entered this world as a preemie, born in October, yet due in late January. She never finds it amusing when I marvel that she was the size of a pencil. I do add, the length of a new pencil, not a used stubby. After almost two months in the NICU, our girl arrived home for Christmas eve. Every milestone, every achievement is a victory. She is tiny, but determined. The above are cherished memories. Emily is now fourteen and a half. She can and does roll her eyes as only a teenager can. Sometimes, I am treated to the 'you're-kidding-right?' stare. She doesn't intimidate me. Her father tried those moves on me as did his two sisters. I am impervious, perhaps that is one of my skills. Another skill I possess is the ability to live in the here and now, in the moment. I spend time observing, listening, and participating in Em's life as well as that of her older sister, Syd and the newest grandgiggle, Alexandra. |
| May 24th Prompt:Write about something awkward or embarrassing that happened in public. Have I committed an embarrassing faux pas in public? Have I caused mouths to drop open? Yes, yes, I have, repeatedly. One time, someone jerked me back and out of harm's way just before my head connected with a solid wall. Oblivious, I'd been leaning over an escalator as it approached another level in a mall. My people watching, okay, spying, had been too engrossing. Once in a crowded bustling restaurant, I insisted upon waving and gesticulating with my arms as I regaled with a funny tale. One of my errant hands struck a waiter passing behind my chair. I knocked a tray of ice water-filled glasses from his bushwhacked grasp. Instead of sloshing to the floor the water spilled all over his white cotton dress shirt instantly becoming transparent. He gasped and froze mid stride. I almost tripped him when I jumped to my feet to apologize. The poor guy smiled weakly through clenched teeth before he backed away from me. I could not undo what I'd done. My eldest daughter and I were interrupted in the ladies room of a busy restaurant by a sudden sharp rap on the door. The noise shocked us into a brief silence. A male voice enquired as to our welfare and announced himself as the manager. Customers had reported a disturbance, someone in distress. Okay, we were being loud and laughing, but did we sound as if we were in trouble? Were we really that boisterous? What could we do? We responded that we were fine, thank you, but when he walked away we dissolved into giggling. This was a repeat of a hotel stay in which the manager tapped on our door to caution our noise level. Oops! |
| May 23rd Prompt: What is something you like to do that other people might think is "weird?" I've just returned from a day spent at my seasonal campsite raking a gazillion leaves and retrieving a billion fallen branches. I'm stifling yawns and resting my aching muscles. I swatted away a stubborn squadron of blackflies with each swath of my rake. I believe I've donated enough of my blood to these relentless buggers. Is my fatigue due to lower blood volume, or increased physical exertion? Hmmm, am I considered weird'ish? Do I possess eccentric habits? Does sometimes talking to myself count as strange? Do I speak out loud 'cause I'm often alone and I crave the sound of a human voice? I'm not sure I like doing this. It's a spontaneous act. I'm sorry, but I'm drawing a blank. Is it considered weird to apologize at this point? |
| PROMPT May 22nd Music often has the ability to remind us of old memories. In your entry today, be inspired by a specific piece of music or a musical instrument. What feelings/emotions does the music or instrument stir in you? Share a specific memory your chosen song or instrument reminds you of. Mary stops to wipe a tear and remember. The inspiring song There'll Always Be An England causes her chest to heave and her pulse to quicken. With the sweeping drums, horns, and piano she is transported to her childhood in London, England. She grins and dances on the streets with her siblings. Mary is not quite sure what has happened, but everyone, all of her neighbours and her Mom are hugging each other and crying. She recognizes tears of joy. A few times, she has been swooped up into someone's arms and twirled all about only to be plonked back on the ground to teeter on unsteady feet. The gaiety is contagious. The non-stop noise is deafening. Metal pots and pans clang. Whistles pierce the air. Vehicle horns blare. The unmistakable strains from a violin float on the warm spring breeze. And the roar of the milling crowd is a constant. Every few minutes, a new song starts up and the boisterous mob belts it out. Cheer after cheer rings out and echoes off the brick buildings. Mary doesn't understand this spontaneous street party, but she likes it. Adults playing and laughing is a welcome sight. A man approaches with a camera and Mary and her older brother pose for him with their arms draped across each other's shoulders. Mary does not recall the flash of this long ago moment. When she studies this photo now, she marvels at her wide smile and instantly hears the revelry of the crowd. Years later, she comprehends the excitement of her fellow London dwellers. They were celebrating VE Day, Victory in Europe. The Germans had surrendered ending "hostilities." Everyone rejoiced the ceasefire. Londoners had persevered and the nightly bombings were no more. "Red, white and blue, what does it mean to you?" "Home," Mary whispers. |
| PROMPT May 21st Not including your phone, computer, or other Googling device, write about the top five most useful items you own. 1. My two vehicles: A mini van and a pickup truck. Mass public transportation does not exist where I choose to reside. Travelling is self-serve only. If I wish to eat, I must drive a distance to shop. If I wish to visit family, I traverse the highways in one of my vehicles. If an accident befalls me, I drag myself to my trusty, reliable truck and beeline it to the nearest hospital. I cannot always call for an ambulance. Without my motorised conveyances, I'd be stranded. 2. My camper/trailer/home away from home AKA the Summer Oasis: This piece of aluminum and glass has hosted numerous get-togethers. It's an excuse to return home and socialize for my three adult children and three grandgiggles. This proved true. If we invest in this, they will come. Our retreat provides outdoor fun and a welcome respite from the interminable winters. Since I now reside in an upstairs apartment, the seasonal campsite provides me with a garden. I do my bit to feed the local ravenous insects, too. A groundhog and a flying squirrel claim squatters' rights. The rather rotund raccoon has moved on. 3. The Fridge/ Keeper and Protector-Provider of Most Things Edible: I believe this is self-explanatory, no refrigerator equals starvation. This appliance holds the key to all meals. The wonders within conjure miracles. It also lures the roaming offspring to visit. Within the confines of the teeny-tiny upper freezer I have set a booby-trap. Anyone pulling open the door is bombarded by frozen muffins and discouraged to browse. 4.My Digital Camera: This handy gadget permits me to create long-lasting memories and irrefutable proof of any and all events, excursions, DIY projects, injuries, and wildlife invasions. Its handiworks provide hours of amusement. 5. My Bed: Ah, this is my haven. I spend too many nights tossing and turning on this irreplaceable piece of furniture. Occasionally, I experience blissful slumber there. It serves as Recovery Station One. It witnesses my attempts at physiotherapy and preventative exercises. Sometimes, it cradles me as I lose all track of time immersed in a book. Changing the sheets creates an invigorating cardio workout. |
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