%%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 September 30th Wow, it's the end of the month! It's time for our last prompt, and to ask you for any input you may have for future prompts. Here's the prompt for tonight. Where do you want to go on your next road trip? Who would you like to have by your side as you experience this? Most of my travelling has been in the form of road trips. Sometimes I was a willing passenger riding shot gun and other times I acted as the chauffeur. I suppose it could accurately be said that I have a lot of miles under my belt and accumulated on my vehicles' odometers. My wheels have been a pick-up truck, a transport truck, a full-sized sedan, a mini van, a compact and more. I recall travelling and navigating with actual paper maps encased in a road atlas. Now GPS and Google digital maps point me in the right direction. A voice advises me when and where to turn. If I fail to follow directions , or I ignore the explicit instructions I will hear, "Recalculating, recalculating." My past explorations have routed me all over North America, but there's still one destination to access by car, Newfoundland. To be accurate, I'd have to drive onto a ferry to reach this island. Prince Edward Island may now have a bridge making it vehicle-accessible, but The Rock is still surrounded by ocean. I'd like to see for myself if the island moose are as impressive as the Ontario variety. I'd like to enjoy the seaside vistas, explore historical sites, imbibe screech, kiss a cod, attempt to speak and understand the local unique patois, hike and whatever else tickles my fancy. While in the area I also plan to visit two tiny islands to the south that consider themselves to be French territory, Saint-Pierre and Miquelon. Again, I would sail via a ferry. As a Canadian citizen I do not need a passport and despite the Euro being the official form of money my Canadian currency is acceptable. Hmmm, now who would accompany me on this adventure? Hubby wants to visit in the summertime while my sister, Sherry is curious about a wintertime escape. No reason I cannot undertake this road trip twice. I'm flexible and keen. Both of my would-be sidekicks possess a driver's licence. Both could be game for endless hours of chit chat and car karaoke. Ah, someday soon... ( I enjoyed replying to this month's varied prompts. As always I found myself with a 24-hour deadline to satisfy and that challenge forced me to write, for better or worst. Once again I was amazed by the variety of responses and the thoughtful comments from my fellow bloggers. It was a pleasure, thank you! Do I have any prompt ideas ? Here goes: 1. Imagine you are someone's shadow for a day. 2. What a ____ does in a day. ) |
| PROMPT September 29th A different kind of prompt tonight. "Speak soft my name" Tell us your thoughts about it. You don't need to write a review of this poem, read it, tell us what you think. Well, this is a first, reading and dissecting another WDCer's piece of poetry. I am familiar with some of Kåre Enga in Udon Thani  's creative writing, his blog posts, and his remarks about other blogs. He always has a considered often thoughtful comment. This is a first reading for me of this particular poem. My initial impression is of strong , fierce, powerful imagery. I can both see and feel the strength of the waves as they surge, as they pummel, as they recede. They are a life force not to be denied. They have a purpose, a mission. The mighty waves act as a wielder of retribution. They serve to wipe out, to destroy, but they also herald a new beginning. The water cleanses, purifies, creates a fresh landscape. A tsunami demands respect and admiration. It strikes with a practiced and lethal hand. It is the stuff of legend and as such unparalleled. Yes, 'speak soft my name" lest you awaken that devastating force. |
| PROMPT September 28th What kind of goals would you like to work toward over the next five years. I'm not much of a long term planner and five years seems like a lifetime away. That said, I have lived for multiple five-year periods and I'd like to believe I have at least five more. Five years is not a great deal of time in the scheme of things, but when caught up in living I'm not aware of it adding up. Sigh, I suppose all the minutes, hours and days amount to something. Time does march on with or without me. So, do I have goals for those next five years? Well, they're not etched in stone and I do understand the need for flexibility especially as it pertains to my health. Perhaps I could envision something. GOAL #1 : Live / survive for the next five years. I believe this is a significant goal, what some may refer to as a biggie. To that end I plan to continue to breathe as I plot to take care of myself. Although my muscles may groan and my knees whine, I will force them to exercise if need be. They can and most likely will complain, but they are going to accompany me on walks. We will not avoid stairs even though we dislike and distrust them. Gotta keep that muscle memory tuned. GOAL #2: Relent, surrender, accept the second knee replacement. The rest of me isn't growing any younger and we still have to train that new joint. We're tough enough to muster that recovery again. If the ol' body has two younger, stronger knees to stand on I'll be prepared for my senior years. Technically, the first knee replacement is a two-year old toddler and it requires a partner close to its age to share the heavy lifting. GOAL #3: Wrangle the hubby into retirement and act upon our desire to travel more. Oh, to be free of a timetable and a schedule. Could we live permanently in a house trailer, an RV? If we pursued this plan, I'd need to purge and that in itself could take five years. One simply does not dump, or dispose of a lifetime of stuff in a split second. I have mentioned the very real need for a second trailer to house my books. I'd have a mini mobile library? GOAL #4: Enjoy the journey of the next five years. Don't waste a single second. Be present. Don't sweat the small stuff. |
| PROMPT September 27th If I realized I am just like everyone else and just as GOOD as everyone else -- that we all struggle but have so much potential -- then when in social situations I would finally be more likely to... Loosen up, relax, enjoy the social situation. I'd be more likely to go with the flow. I'd drop my hyper-vigilance and my prevalent guard. There'd be no more me versus them, but an us on equal footing. We'd be peers, birds of a feather, compadres. Oh, the conversation would have to be so much more than casual. We'd share interests and life-experiences in common. We'd just 'get' each other. What awkwardness? No more 'tongue-tieditis.' Of course, we'd converse in a vernacular comfortable to both of us with no need for explanation, or clarification. How could we possibly misunderstand each other, or misconstrue the meaning of our chat? We'd be above cross-communication. None of us would bother to worry about our choice of word, or manner, or stepping on once easily bruised toes. Feelings and egos would not be affronted. We'd banish pettiness. My choice of attire and that of others would not be significant, or judged. Designer labels? Pfft. Current fads? Meh. Anything goes. Fashion freedom. No one could sneer at my sneakers and decide if they were worthy simply because of their price tag. If my t-shirt sported a stain, so what. If my socks were obviously odd and not from the same pair, big deal. I would finally be more likely to simply be me and more likely to accept anyone. |
| September 26th Prompt: Tell us about something you have never done, but really want to do. Why haven't you done it? Well, in the realm of bigger than life dreams I'd really really really like to spend months travelling all of Great Britain via an RV, or in their patois, I want to 'caravan.' That's my biggie desire. I'd like to go a-RVing from tip to tip of that isle. Never mind luxury hotels or B&Bs. Sure, I'm not anti-comfort, but I prefer a towable temporary home on wheels that will shelter me as I wander wherever I wish to go. I will not bind myself to a timetable, or a mapped route. I want to be flexible as I meander as an unabashed tourist. Ideally, I'll camp along a windswept salty-air coastal site with crashing waves, a mystical emerald green forest, within the shadow of an ivy-covered castle, a barren moor, numerous villages and more. Along the way, I plan to meet and greet whomever crosses my path. We will most likely remark upon our differing accents and idioms. We all supposedly speak English, but with our own 'flavour.' Of course, I intend to sample the various delicacies available. Perhaps I can disprove the belief that all food British is tasteless and or bland. I'd love to savour yorkshire pudding, fish and chips, and fairy cakes straight from the source. I have no doubt I will down hundreds of 'cuppas.' I'm currently in training for this eventuality. Maybe I can enter a tea-sipping marathon? So, what's locked the wheels of my caravan so to speak? What is preventing me from embarking upon my cross-country trek? Sigh... I have champagne tastes dependent upon beer money. Finances, or more accurately the lack thereof crimps my travel plans. I dream beyond my means. I am not naive, I realize my ambitious foray will be expensive. First, I need to fly from Canada across the Atlantic. Next I'd have to lease a caravan and stock it with edibles. Oh, and I must also rent a vehicle which will require fuelling at regular intervals. Yep, there will undeniably be expenses. No problem... I just need to connect with a travel fairy. |
| September 25th prompt: family gathering: Aunt Bessie and Uncle Clyde are enroute, one is bringing a sweet potato pie and the other one's bringing ham hocks and greens...BUT the two of them haven't spoken in 20 years, What happens?? SIDE NOTE: The local Hydro is acting up as it pours rain. So far today, the power has disappeared twice, so I hope I am able to type up my blog and post it. Here goes my effort...fingers crossed... Chased out of the hot kitchen because I sampled more than I stirred and banished to the front porch to act as the spotter / greeter, I had time to sit and think. Before I'd been shooed away and swatted with a dish towel I'd heard the scuttlebutt about two long-absent relatives, Bessie and Clyde. They'd not been together at the same family gathering for twenty years. Now for some reason they were both expected to be present at this Thanksgiving celebration, two strangers to me, two senior citizens, two feuding kinfolk. Would there be fireworks? I anticipated an argument with shouting and name calling. Perhaps plates would be flung through the air and shatter on the floor. I could see a frantic, furious food fight, mashed potato missiles splattering on contact, gelatinous jiggly cranberry sauce-slime sliding down the walls forming red pools, green b-b shot peas pinging and plopping. A car door slams and I hear a shout. "Ahoy young lady. Can you give me a hand?" As I scramble to the unfamiliar figure of a white-bearded man struggling to exit a boat of a black sedan, he bellows, "I'm Clyde. Did they warn you I was coming?" I can't help myself. I grin. He loops his arm around one of mine and hands me a still warm pie. I steal a quick sniff. "It's my world famous sweet potato pie. Wait 'til you taste it. You'll be begging for the recipe." Recipe, that word tugged at me. Aha, right, that had been the contention, the strife between Bessie and Clyde. I settled Clyde and his pie in the kitchen happy to join in the flowing conversation. Returning to the porch I discover a round woman, a grey woman, panting and perched on a step. Clutched in her lap is a casserole dish. "Hi. You must be Bessie. We're expecting you. Can I carry that for you?" The decisive shake of her head surprises me. She does however proffer a hand and I pull her to her unsteady feet. Together we totter to the hub of activity. I gaze around and hold my breath.Clyde half rises from a chair knocking over a steaming mug of coffee. The sudden silence gives way to sidelong glances. I stand still and clench my jaw. Bessie deposits her ceramic dish on the counter next to Clyde's pie with a clatter. Next she shrugs out of her coat and Clyde catches it before it hits the floor. "What are y'all gawping at? Isn't anyone going to greet me?" Several throats coughed and ahemed. Clyde spoke first. "Hello Bessie, long time no see." All eyes stared, no one dared blink, as Bessie turned to the man she hadn't spoken to in twenty years. Clyde flinched. Bessie's brow furrowed. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. One foot tapped on the tile floor. The knitted scarf she'd been fiddling with slipped from her hands and crumpled at her feet. I bent to retrieve it. "Do I know you? Have we met? Are you here for Thanksgiving, too? I brought ham hocks and greens. Is that okay?" |
| PROMPT September 24th We think we know other people, and feel they know us. However, maybe they don't know us as well as they think. Tell us five things friends don’t know about you. (Don't share anything you aren't comfortable with sharing!) No one knows, at least I do not think they've noticed, (yet), but I seem to be morphing into a grumpy old man. Things, random things, irritate me. I am baffled by young men who shuffle about in their over-sized jeans belted somewhere around their knee caps. I dislike hearing "yo." Why does there seem to be a gangster-worship culture? Tattoos are no longer relegated to the body. Face and skull tats are prevalent. Now many people sport body piercings. One woman bedazzled her chest with fake gemstone piercings. What the heck are those gigantic round lobe piercings that leave ears with a sizeable hole? When and why did underwear become outer wear? Should I be muttering, "Bah, humbug?" I cannot saunter past garbage strewn on the ground and not pick it up. Am I compulsive? I feel an urge to clean it up and dispose of it in a refuse receptacle. In a store, I will retrieve items from the floor, a shirt, a shoe, a book, a bottle of shampoo, whatever. A few years ago I experienced a slip and fall in a grocery store and I still recall my thudding, painful collision with the unforgiving floor. I'd stepped into a gooey puddle of something spilled and ignored. At a library, or a bookstore I browse the children's section. I enjoy the creative, colourful illustrations as I read the stories. I struggle with the concept and the execution of 'no.' If asked to babysit, or chauffeur, or "just run in for something will you" I rarely say no. Do I need to be needed? I bite my tongue a lot. Of course, I have opinions, but I mainly keep them to myself. I've committed my own blunders and I believe others should be free to make their own, but... Entire discussions play out in my mind. |
| PROMPT September 23rd What life lessons do you believe everyone can benefit from learning? The journey of life certainly has its pitfalls. All of us I dare say blunder along most of the time in a perpetual loop of learning. Sometimes we hang on tight as we hurtle at g-force down a rollercoaster. Other times we sway with vertigo as if trapped in the spin cycle of a washer. Occasionally we hesitate on the ledge of a high rise's roof. At times we are paralyzed and pulled bit by agonizing bit into a mud hole. Eureka moments strike as if dazzling bolts of lightning. Deja vu haunts and chastises us. These are my words of wisdom / experience or whatever. Make of them what you will. Some I still struggle with. Some of them marked me for life. Lesson #1 : Since my youngest grand giggle at two and a half is at an impressionable stage in her development I feel I must pass on this hard-won truth. I know she'll thank me for it later. Never, ever under any circumstances stand , or walk behind an occupied moving swing. She may be a bit too young to appreciate the laws of physics, but I now know that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Physical stature is of no consequence. That arcing swing is a great equalizer. Lesson #2 : Always, always tie your shoe laces. It is most unfortunate when a dangling lace entangles in a bike's chain. Some might say disastrous. Loose flopping laces are attracted to moving machinery like an escalator. They lie in wait to trip the unsuspecting climber while scaling, or descending stair cases. They prove irresistible to slobbering, chewing dogs. I might even suggest a double, or triple knot to rein in errant laces. Lesson #3:Nowhere is it etched in stone that you must accept a double dare. The same applies to a triple-dog-dare. The world will not spin off its axis if you refuse. A giant yawning hole will not open up and swallow you whole. You may just save yourself a trip to the emergency room and preserve vital body parts. Your future aging person may thank you. Lesson #4:Listen to that little nagging voice warning you something is probably not a good idea. Trust that gut feeling, that intuition. Believe it or not, your mother had the right idea when she advised you not to jump off a bridge because everyone was doing it. There's a difference between risk and insanity, thrill and achievement. Look and consider before you leap. What's a few more minutes in the scheme of things? Lesson #5:If someone yells, "Watch this!", pay attention. Witnesses are always needed to verify a feat, or provide first aid, or dial 911. Lesson #6: Do not, I repeat do not stick your tongue out at your brother, the brother who chased you through the yard threatening to kill you, after you scoot into the kitchen, slam and lock the door, and taunt him supposedly trapped outside. Why assume you are safe and he is helpless to retaliate? You are asking for it as in a consequence, a bit of justice. Oh, and a glass window in a door is no match for that brother's fury, or his fist. Siblings may well be surprising. Lesson #7: Never ever press a big red button centered amongst the words DO NOT TOUCH. Yes, I know it is tempting, but resist that curiosity. Ear-splitting sirens will screech. Bright lights will strobe and flash. Shouting perspiring people will appear and mingle nearby. Oh, and the escalator will groan to a sudden stop. Lesson #8: Have you not heard of Murphy's Law? This aggravating maxim applies most strongly to mothers of young children. If anything can go wrong, it will. Children are nothing if not unpredictable. The moment you make that decision to not pack, or carry something with you you will need it. Convincing yourself that a ten-minute drive across town does not warrant bringing a fresh diaper and hundreds of cleaning wipes is the exact moment your baby experiences explosive diarrhea. Daring to venture out to the park sans a complete first aid kit in tow is the time your toddler tumbles, spies a tiny drop of bright red blood on their exposed knee cap, and screams that he wants a bandage. He will be inconsolable without that magic wound cover. Mothers be prepared. |
| PROMPT September 22nd Do you have a 'Bucket List'? IF so, what's on it? If not, tell us what you would add to it when you start one. Do I have a before-I-kick-the-bucket list? Hmm... before I buy the farm what do I most wish to do? Perhaps I'd like to purchase a rural property, an actual farm? I could foster a few feathered and furry friends. Maybe I'd plant a humongous garden. Nah, why would I do that? I'd be creating too much responsibility and work, right? First of all I'd have more mouths to feed and critters to clean up after. It'd be like living with creatures children again , dependents who are vulnerable and needy. Any crops I encouraged to flourish would probably feed the local wildlife any way and weeding can be back-breaking work. I'm not growing any younger and I'd really like to enjoy myself before my inevitable end. Nope, at the moment I do not have a bucket list. At least, I don't believe I have one. I've never prefaced any plans with "before I die I want to have done this." My possibilities are "maybe one day" musings. If they happen they happen, if they don't it won't be the end of the world which as I now ponder it would be an actual factual event. Someday I will cease to exist and I will be finished permanently. There will be no more what ifs, or one days. Projects will be abandoned. Trips will be cancelled. Things left unsaid. Old wounds never healed. Relationships severed. Regret, I am anticipating regret. This could be a bucket list worthy goal. I'd like to die regret-free. I don't want to leave unfinished business as my legacy. There will not be secrets, or mysteries clouding my history. I will not scatter unequivocal, ambiguous feelings, messages, or opinions. Okay, okay, permit me one indulgence. I'd be beyond thrilled to visit and explore Great Britain. By plane, train, automobile, riverboat, and caravan I'd love a cross-isle trek. Imagine the new memories I could collect in my brimming bucket! |
| PROMPT September 21st Tell us about any vegetable or fruit that you absolutely hate. Then think of ways to cook those ingredients that would encourage you to try them. Truthfully I can not brag profess that I like to partake of all veggies 'cause there's one, just one, that prevents that boastful claim. I shall type it out, spit it out here, but I find this green-skinned abomination to be distasteful. Cucumber. Blech! Gag! Wretch! As a five-year old I'd rant, "Cukes make me puke!" Both the terrible stench and the regrettable flavour repel me. And the overpowering scent of this awful vegetable is glorified in a plethora of products; candles, skin care lotions, soaps, shampoos, and more. Yuck! Why has celery been overlooked in this regard? Now that is a smell and taste I find delicious. Not once have I found a celery-scented candle. Hmmm... Did you know people make cucumber sandwiches? I'd prefer a brussels sprout sammie, or a rutabaga sandwich. ( Isn't rutabaga a fun-sounding word? Exotic maybe?)Salads are ruined, defiled by cucumbers. Thank goodness for the good ol' BLT. Someone had the sense not to mar it with a cuke. Oh, and does anyone dare to blemish a pizza with a cucumber? There are plenty of actual tasty veggies for that honour. Onions, mushrooms, peppers, now those are venerable veggies. Now how in the wide world could a cucumber be transformed into something edible? Someone solved that problem eons ago. Just add dill seasoning and perhaps a soupcon, ( french word for tiny bit, a smattering), of garlic. The wonderful result is commonly known as a dill pickle, ( a cornichon for the francaise). Now, that is how I will consume a cucumber. Wait, hold up, I just Googled cucumber and guess what it's a fruit. Ah, sorta like the tomato debate. Hey, that means I do like all veggies and this explains a great deal. I'm not much of a fruit fancier, never have been. My favourite fruit is the tomato and my least favourite, or downright detestable are melons. Considering methods to disguise any food my mind automatically reverts to baking. With the magical powers of sugar, flour, eggs, butter and an army of spices I've converted many a veggie or a fruit into drool-worthy concoctions. Carrots, zucchinis, rhubarb, pumpkins, apples, bananas, peaches, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, cranberries, and even potatoes may be altered to become the calorie carriers they were intended to be. Marie Antoinette was a visionary. "Let them eat cake." And in her defense, she never suggested anyone eat a cucumber, or a cucumber disguised as a dill pickle. |
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