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 |    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. |
| July 30th Prompt: Favourite prompt? Most rewarding aspect of participating this month? So, it's time for the highlight reel? Another month of blogging is behind me. As usual, the prompts pushed me to craft some sort of a reply. Not all of my efforts came easily, or without some reflection. Do I have a favourite prompt? No. I did enjoy the discussions fostered by the "if they can put a man on the moon, why can't they _____?" prompt. So many thoughtful writers here. Apparently, not many of my fellow bloggers enjoy the hand-washing of dishes. They would like a machine that causes dirty dishes to poof, disappear. So, some aspects of housework are considered drudgery if not icky. Is it a strange coincidence that numerous bloggers are left-handers? I salute their resilience. I believe as a group we're divided on the playing of music during the writing process. Some of us appreciate background noise and the rest of us prefer silence. If I remember correctly, many of us would love to visit Great Britain. Imagine a hiking, sight-seeing, writing tour of WDCers. We're all coping as best we can with Covid. I enjoy reading the various blogs and the conversations they spark. It displays a determined strength. May I say carry on. This virus will not diminish us. |
| PROMPT July 29th Write about an invention or technology that you wish existed that would make your life better. Yesterday I mentioned a talking mirror and I'd like to explore that marvel a bit more. What's the harm? Is there an upside? "Psst, hey mirror. You awake?" "Of course I am. Why would I be sleeping? I just hang around all day. It's not as if I could walk away." "Oh, sorry. I can't really see my reflection clearly. Are you sure you haven't dimmed?" "We had this conversation. I told you the lighting in here isn't the best. Stop squinting! You're making me look bad. Turn on another lamp or something." "There is that better? Oh, yep I see myself now. What do you think? Have I got it?" "Got what? What are you asking?" "You know, it. Do I have it? Am I special? Do I have that je ne sais quoi?" "How would I know? And just for the record, I'm not French speaking. I prefer plain speech. I deal with reality, with what you can see under your nose. Well, if you care to look." "Maybe I'd like to see a little less of me and more of myself." "Huh? The reflection I generate is the bonafide you. Those are your own eyebrows aren't they?" "Yes, I wake up with my own eyebrows already on my face. Sigh. Nowadays, I don't recognize that face staring back at me. I never had wrinkles and is that a double chin? Where did that moustache come from? Where did I go? It's odd, but it's like there's more of me and less of me." "From where I'm situated, I'd agree there's more of you. You're a broad, right? You've grown haven't you? You're a broad sight bigger. It happens." "But the true me does not look like this at all. What are those marks at the corners of my eyes? Have I been etched? Gasp! Are they crows' feet?" "Why not think of them as laugh lines? You still have your sense of humour, right? All that guffawing left its mark. They show the world that you've been touched." "Oh, I'm touched all right, touched in the head. I'm speaking with my mirror. My mirror is giving me a pep talk." "Um ,er, excuse me. You wanted a pep talk? Why didn't you say so? I can be supportive you know. That requires a different setting. You caught me off guard and snuck up on me." |
| July 28th Prompt: Write three of your own prompts and then reply to one of them. Okay, three prompts, eh? Here they are, ta da. 1. What is the most annoying habit of others? 2. Pretend you're a dog for a day. Write about a day in the life of a dog from your new perspective. 3. What if your mirror started to talk to you? What would it say to you? Hmmm, I choose number three. A talking mirror? "Hey, how ya doin'? Long time no see." "Um, you saw me this morning. Did you forget?" "Of course not. It's just talk. So, how ya doin'? Busy? Tired?" "No, not particularly. Why? Do I look tired? What do you see?" "Oh, ha, ha. Nothin.' It's a greeting really. Are you sure?" "Come on, you're my mirror. Give it to me straight." "What? You want me to gloss over the facts a little, or just lay it all out?" "Is it that bad?" "Mmmm, I dunno. You do have dark bags under your eyes. Did I say bags? Ah, ya... they're more like large suitcases. Aren't they heavy? You really haven't noticed them? Wow." "I only glance at you and this is the first time you've spoken to me. Couldn't you describe them as smudges instead? Your observation is a tad harsh." "Sniff. Don't blame me. The lighting in here is lacking. In fact, it's downright grim. Uh huh, nothing flattering in this room." "So, the lack of bright light is to blame? All I need is a better light bulb?" "Hold up. I didn't say that. I recognize under eye bags, oh sorry, smudges, when I see them. Oh, do you know about the wrinkles and the grey hair? Should I mention them? You seem sensitive." "Ack! Why are you criticizing me? No, I don't recognize the face staring back at me." "Well, trust me, it's you. You aint no spring chicken anymore. Wait. Where are you goin'? Don't you want to talk some more?" "I don't know. Maybe I need a second opinion. Maybe I need a better moisturizer." "You do that. I only speak the truth. I'm a mirror ya know. I reflect. That's all I do. Will I see ya later?" |
July 27th Prompt: Write about a time you were caught off guard, surprised, or had the rug pulled out from under you. How did you recover? Me, surprised? Hey, I'm the veteran of three children. Surprises are part of the child-rearing kit. Nerves of steel and unwavering patience are included in that make believe box. Unlimited humour cushions the other ingredients. So, yes, I've encountered my fair share of off guard moments. I've attempted to record some of those unforgettable incidents for posterity. Reading about the trials and tribulations some how verifies their existence. Trust me, when they happened I did not ever imagine I would describe them in a written form. I had my hands full coping, treading water, juggling, reassuring frightened children, trying to remain calm and remembering to breathe. I did what I could in the heat of the moment. Panicking is not an option. The strangest surprise I ever experienced will never be a chapter in a child-rearing manual. I did not venture into motherhood anticipating all would be accident free. I'm an accident magnet and since my offspring carry some of my DNA, stitches and fractures were a sure thing not an improbability. All of this aside, never did I forsee my son trapped inside an army tank. He had to be unique. I wrote a brief tale about our one of a kind adventure. He and I recovered, but he does not wish to revisit that time. Here is my account.
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| July 26th Prompt: What food would you like to judge in a Cook-Off? Rainbow hued awnings flapped and slapped in the breeze. The sun caressed the top of Hank's exposed head as he sauntered amongst the throng of tourists. His nose twitched. Meats sizzled. Sounds of chopping and dicing echoed all around. Bubbling and burbling mixed with the whoosh of gas flames. Notes, hints of onion, peppers, tomatoes, and beans danced around him. Sniffing he detected the subtle scent of spices teasing, tantalizing. Allspice pungent and strong. Cinnamon with its surprise tang. Chili and paprika smoky and sharp. Unmistakable black pepper. Oh, could that be a new spice, a mystery tweeking his sensitive nose? Ah, how he loved the annual chili cook-off. Hank's stomach growled. Saliva swamped his mouth and he swallowed with difficulty. Every year, the wait proved agonizing. At long last the clanking and clinking signaled the chilis were ready. Long ladles scooped samples into bowls and one such offering appeared before the quivering Hank. He blinked and inhaled the fragrant steam. Suppressing a sneeze, he chowed down. Oh, the mini explosions in his mouth. His taste buds tingled in delight. Savoury smoke spewed from his reddened ears, or did it? Tears welled in his eyes and he smothered a gasp. Now this was chili. Without reservation, Hank licked his bowl clean. With a belch and a sigh, he stretched. Hank lapped a bit of his ice cold water just to be polite. As a wide, blissful grin slowly split his face, Hank cocked one leg and let loose an unapologetic fart. Yes, this indicated fantastic chili. Instant gaseous combustion. Chili reduced to its most basic form. With groans, gasps and epitaphs colouring the air, Hank shook himself thoroughly and meandered away from the noxious cloud / crowd. He ignored the weeping, gagging people pointing in his direction. He shrugged off their comments. "Oh my God! This is unbelievable. Shouldn't that dog be dead or something? What's in this chili? Ack, I can taste it!" |
| July 25th Prompt: Reflect on your week. Challenges? Successes? What made you smile? Funny you should ask about my week... I hesitate to mention this, but I am being harassed. I am puzzled and I grow increasingly concerned. Not yet panicked, I am looking over my shoulder and dreading the familiar call of my stalker. His persistence troubles me. Why me? What have I done to attract his wrath? Will I be able to reason with him? Is he actually a he? The little fist waved in my direction and the dark-eyed glare struck me as humorous at first. I must admit I sensed the strong emotion emanating from my confronter although I failed to understand why it hurled at me. The constant tail twitch, or more accurately the agitated thrash emphasisized the chittering barrage. Okay, I recognized anger when I saw it. What I did not comprehend and still fail to see is the why. Why did a red squirrel scratch it's way up to one of my camper trailer's opened windows to share its obvious displeasure with me? The rapid fire chirring and chattering indicated impressive lung capacity. I never heard a pause for breath.The first time this surprised me I knocked on the interior wall and the intense creature scampered away with a flick of its bushy tail, but no abatement of the tongue lashing. I sat inside at a table typing at my tablet. I believed this to be an anomaly. Within a few minutes, my accoster returned to the same window and punched at the screen. This did not seem necessary to me. I swear the arms were waving as it again subjected me to a furious piece of his mind. I repeated my get-away-from-the-window strike and for a brief moment that squirrel defied me. He jumped to the ground and reappeared at the screen door in an obvious hey-I'm-not-finished-with-you move. He peered in at me seated at the table and commenced to chitter-chatter as he vibrated with indignation. His red fur stood on end. He perched atop the metal handrail before he swung from it. I stomped the floor and despite his bravado, he leapt to the deck. Did this end the assault? No. He had to express his agitation, his distress by scrabbling along the awning for several laps. Then he clawed his way to the aluminum roof of the trailer where he skittered and zoomed for a few more moments. For something that probably weighs two pounds at the most, he stomped, not light on his paws at all. This strange behaviour continued for an afternoon.That squirrel had a mission and he expelled a great deal of raw emotion and kinetic energy in an attempt to communicate with me. But why? What had I done to attract this wrath? I'm not anti-squirrel. I let sleeping squirrels lie. I let scampering squirrels scamper. I let foraging squirrels forage. I believe that squirrel lives matter, but what is the matter with this particular beast? He clearly does not see this as a laughing matter. I'd like to brush this odd encounter off, but that squirrel had a bee in his bonnet, a too tight tangle in his tail. Now when I hear a chorus of excited chitter-chatters, I wonder if I will be at the centre of a squirrel plot. |
PROMPT July 24th If you could switch places with one other person, who would it be and why? What in particular would you do? A switcheroo? Trade my body/existence for another? Ah, if only... Well, I definitely do not wish to trade places with a celebrity. No thank you. I value my privacy and I don't feel the need to confront paparazzi, or look over my shoulder constantly. What I do, who I do it with and when I do it is my business and no one else's. If I believed I could really make a difference, I might consider tagging in as a politician. Imagine pushing through new legislation? It's a thankless position though and it moves at a snail's pace. Would I like glad-handing and photo ops? Nope. Perhaps I could trade places with my hubby, the long-distance trucker. Sure, I've accompanied him for some of his cross-country jaunts, but I sat in the passenger seat being jostled. I have no concept of steering that big rig with a heavy load down the road. Yes, I'm a driver, but what I keep between the lines does not compare. Could I maintain that constant vigilance? Could I deal with idiot, inconsiderate drivers? Could I manage the delays, the frustrations, the obstacles, the loneliness? Could I 'live' in a semi for days or weeks? Could I survive on one restaurant meal after another? Could I cope with being at a physical distance and helpless to aid in a family emergency? His only method of contact is a cell phone and daily conversations. He lives that phone company ad "reach out and touch someone." What in particular would I do? I'd permit him to stay home while I delivered freight somewhere. I'd be a long distance trucker even if only for one trip. His semi is a new one and it's an automatic. It's well within the bounds of possibility that I commandeer his truck and propel it along a highway. Yes, the concept is feasible. Now, had it still been a standard... I am acquainted with a few CB words and trucker slang. Perhaps I could fake it until I make it. I am aware that a "chicken coop" cannot be avoided and it's open for business if the light is flashing. "Gators" on the highway are to be avoided. Strange, I know, but we do have them in Canada, too. He no longer hauls a "skateboard", so there'd be less climbing. The "travel agent" would direct my route. I've been taught to respect the "bears." Yep, becoming a replacement trucker is a doable switcheroo. I could even manage with a "black eye." |
| July 23rd Prompt: You are given a full budget and creative licence to bring a book you read to film. What book? Who would you cast as characters? Hmmm, I do not know? It's not that I haven't read any books and I have nothing to consider. I've perused several James Patterson novels so far this summer. I've seen two movies based upon his Cross character, but nothing featuring his other heros. One is a widowed New York detective with ten adopted children. Serious crime seems to find him and he is always involved in a desperate struggle to save his city. The other hero owns and operates a private security firm with offices in many of the world's bustling cities. Both men lend themselves to an action / thriller movie. Recently I read a Nora Roberts book titled ' The Witness.' The premise is that a sheltered teenage girl witnesses a double homicide and insists that she be a witness against ths Russian mob. While in witness protection, an attempt is made to silence her, so she flees. In the intervening years, she changes her identity and her location constantly to survive. Eventually, she tires of this lifestyle and seeks to expose the Russians and maintain the new life she has created for herself. No longer does she seek to be alone and under the radar. I envision this tale as a thriller, but I have no idea who would portray this young woman and her associates. I do not keep track of actors and who does what. I'm certainly not a talent agent, or a casting agent. Why couldn't an as yet undiscovered actress earn this role? Bah, too many novels deviate greatly from their movies. Endings are altered. |
| July 22nd Prompt: Make a list of the top five most important virtues and why. Well, today is an auspicious occasion. For 42 years, hubby and I have been a married couple. We both took the plunge at the age of nineteen. Ack! That's a lifetime ago. For some reason the lyrics of a Sonny and Cher song are tumbling in my brain. "I got you babe." Strange, 'cause we do not refer to each other by cutesy names. It's not as if either one of us could be called a prize, but I believe we won some kind of lottery. We remain together and it's not because we felt coerced, or because we settled. We are friends as well as life partners. Oh, wait, I'm hearing more sappy love song lyrics. "Just the two of us..." I'm certain my hubby is not singing Elton John's ' The Bitch is Back.' Then again he's rolling along a highway in Indiana and I'm not. Okay, enough of the digression. Virtues? There are many in the complex make-up of a marriage. Hmmm... I'll pick patience, love/loyalty, flexibility, trust, and respect/reliability for forty-two years, Alex. They are a winning combination. I am not claiming that marriage is all roses, sunshine and chocolate. It is real, intense work. We are two different personalities agreeing to live together in relative harmony. We have thorns. We have varying tolerances to direct heat and dazzling light. We cannot always respond to sweetness in predictable ways. After all these years, and each one is significant, we have learned to draw upon wells of patience and flexibilty we never dreamed we carried within us. At times, we have agreed to disagree. Tongues have been bitten in frustration. Cooling off periods are necessary. We retire to our own corners to ponder and breathe. It is possible for both of us to be right, or for both of us to be wrong. We are perfectly imperfect. We share mutual love, trust and respect. We know what it is to pack up our kids, our pets, and all of our possessions to move to a new town and start over. We relied upon our relationship. We believed it could be possible and we made it happen. We were a team, a family. We've weathered career changes. Accidents and health scares were not insurmountable. We have never been afraid to laugh. Humour has been a weapon, a balm, a crutch, and a sturdy building block.I'm anticipating at least another forty-two years together. Anything is possible. |
| July 21st Prompt: Write a letter to your fifteen-year old self. Dear Can't Wait To Be Older, So, you're finally fifteen. You thought this day would never arrive. You are so over being a kid. Just think, in a year you'll be driving. Trust me, you're gonna love it. Dad gets you your own car. Wow, eh? Now, it's nothing fancy, but it's a cool car. By the time we reach my current age that car is considered a collector car. Sorry, you won't get to keep it that long. Yep, it is smashed to smithereens, but don't worry you had nothing to do with it. Mark wrapped the Cutlass around a cement light post. Oh, did I forget to mention the parents asked you to share with your brother? Since we're chatting about wheels and transportation here's a heads-up.Well, first of all keep your own head up. Stay alert. Perhaps this can be prevented, but I don't know. Dad will disassemble your bike. Oh, guaranteed you'll be pissd off initially. You are hit two different times riding that bike. Add that to last summer's bike crash and he'll have had enough. Remember the car is coming though, no more pedalling and looking over your shoulder. Good news. The bell bottom jeans you like to wear will eventually make a comeback on the fashion scene. Once you give up the bike you'll really like them. If you hold onto a few pairs, the flares will be seen as retro, or vintage you trend-setter, you. Yes, in the future you will still be able to wiggle into them . Not well into the future, but close enough. Oh, and we still like to wear toe socks the more colourful the better. Now, we tug them on to show off in clogs, or a shoe known as a Croc. Silly name, eh? They're not pretty by any means, but they are manufactured in lots of colours and they are so comfy and easy to slip on. Don't worry you can still wear flip flops. Just their name changes to thongs. Oh, and just a bit of a warning. Some panties are known as thongs, too. The poncho returns to the clothing scene also. What's old is new again. They are made of everything and anything. Oh, I wear a new fabric known as fleece. It's so light weight and warm. You know what? I can still sing all the lyrics to our teenage songs. If you keep listening and grooving, we'll have quite the library in our memory vault. Elton John is alive and kicking although he does relinquish the crazy eyeglasses and feathered costumes. He's not the only performer still cranking tunes out. The Rolling Stones stay together. Wild, eh? All your favourites are destined to be called classics, but why not, they are awesome. So, I suppose I could mention school. Now I regret never studying art. I know, I know. We wanted to try everything, but there was never enough room for all our interests. Maybe you could drop one of the shop classes in favour of art. Never stop sketching and doodling. Oh, and continue to write, I mean stories and poetry. People are going to share their memories with you and they deserve to be recorded.Especially ask questions of your grandparents. I, we, become fascinated with genealogy. I need all the clues I can get. Hang in there. You will leave home when you're nineteen. Soon enough you will be separated from the rules and the expectations.You only have four more years of Dad's cooking and then you will be fending for yourself. Oh, and stop fretting. All that particular indulging will not make you fat. That may come later, much later. |
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