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July 22, 2015 I'm going to start today to record on a daily basis whatever happens to strike my fancy. So, it is a very cool breezy day. I just posted 5 short book reviews to The Monthly Reading Challenge. I'm suppose to put away some winter wood today from the woodpile outside but I'm playing hookey from work to write so starting this blog will get done. I'm having a daily fight with a flock of English Sparrows that are trying to take over my barn. They are making a terrible mess so they have to go. I have destroyed several nests so far they don't leave but they get out of the barn when I am around. I'm just starting the fight so I guess I don't know how far I have to go to discourage them. I'm trying not to spread myself to thin on WDC because I find so many things that are interesting here and I am trying to work on a new story. I really enjoy sitting at my desk with a cup of tea and reading blogs on WDC. |
| You have to prepare a complex meal for a special occasion, all of your family and friends will be in attendance. Oh, oh... You are completely out of every ingredient, and you don't have time to go shopping. You have to send your muse out shopping, there's no other option. What do you send your muse to shop for? What does your muse return with, and how does your dinner party turn out?  This has actually happened to me more than once. When we reroofed the house, I knew we should feed the workers. Some of them worked for slave wages others worked out of the goodness of their hearts. I got in the car and headed for one of the local centers of civilization. Just the day before I had heard a advertisement about one of the fast-food places selling sliced beef sandwiches at a reasonable price. I ordered 25. I had not called ahead. Nevertheless, they put my order in and filled it. Once at home the food disappeared quickly. My daughter and some granddaughters live in a neighboring state. I never know when they are going to show up. I never seem to have a lot of cash or food when I get the call they are on their way. It really isn't much of a case about what to feed people. If the muse helps it is with ideas about a menu, that is quick fix and easily found. Usually, the muse says send K. One time I sent K for fast food Chicken. Baked some potatoes and set the table. Other times I sent K for cold cuts, cheese, and burger buns. Still, another time we just sent K for pizza. So, having refreshed my mind with the Prompt. and having the lay of the land for a family meal I have to say. Being completely out of every ingredient just doesn't happen here because we have to shop once a month for the whole month. So, stocking up is a necessary type of shopping. If I was going to prepare for a family gathering on the quick, I would still send out for burger and hotdogs. Start up the grill. Take strawberries out of the freezer to thaw. Bake a very large amount of shortcake. Serving strawberry shortcake, sloppy Joes, or burgers and hotdogs on the grill would do it. I'm not sure what people consider complex. If I shopped for chicken, salad ingredients, put out pickles, celery sticks, carrot sticks, chips of some sort, and cheese and baked potatoes it would cook fast and feed a lot of people. The muse would be more helpful with the conversation. As a family we often get together for short needs. Haying time, graduations, fixing automobiles, so a real family gathering would just mean catching up on what kind of jobs people have, how well they have been, what kind of phones we all use or how the dog training is going. We all have rescue dogs and this year at least three members of the family took in a new dog. All different breeds but, because they are shelter dogs, they have mostly the same training problems. Lots of laughter about any problem would be a real thing. In this respect my son-in-law had just rescued a new dog as a companion to replace the very elderly dog he had lost to age a year ago. Just weeks after the new dog came into the family, he contacted covid. He lost his battle with Covid, but the family is keeping his dog. In Greek mythology Zeus had 9 daughters that gave out inspirations to artists, musicians, and writers. I like this reference: https://www.infobloom.com/what-is-a-muse.htm A muse is someone, who has such an influence on another, that he or she becomes the focus and inspiration for that person's creative work. by Gary Crystal According to the website link a muse can be a spiritual entity or a human loved one. I also think you can mistake the advice from the Holy Spirit as advice from a muse. Although this statement might start a controversial conversation. {THE END} Word Count = 690 - 73 for the prompt = 617 |
| You've been on an extended vacation, your luggage is packed full of souvenirs and acquisitions from several countries. You have to cross a border into a small country with heavily armed security and many large warning signs written in a language you can't read. You and your luggage are pushed in front of an angry border officer, who proceeds to yell at you in an unknown language. Just then, your muse materializes in its physical form, and says to you, "Don't worry... I got this." Tell us how the rest of your day went. Hope this does not have to be a total fiction story. I'll start out with a fictitious hopeful paragraph. The Muse would tell me to open the luggage. My muse can be quite practical. Before I went to the border crossing, I would have packed knowing what I could and could not cross with. I would speak plainly in my native language and the muse I hope would put some sense into the armed security guard. My willingness to participate in search and seizure might calm things down, unless the guard was intent on making trouble. With passport in order the rest of the day would go well since I managed to cross the border in a peaceful way. If the guard was obnoxious maybe I could find an interpreter to help solve the problem. I find when there is a muse involved, things just unfold. Not necessarily the way I think they will but usually with some semblance of order. Now I'll proceed in a more nonfiction story. I was married at the age of 18. My first husband was killed in an automobile accident. He was an airman stationed for a while At Howard Airforce base at what was then, the Panama Canal Zone. My 9-month-old son and I flew there on a MAT flight to join him. Richard had acquired an automobile while he was there. One day soon after we arrived, we went to the local. Bureau to register the automobile. My first husband was a red-haired person. Our son was born with red hair and the complexation that goes with this physical human traight. There was a very long line at the registration booth that day. Richard left us resting in the parked car while he joined the line. The registration bureau was only a booth manned by a Guardia National officer. The officer would stamp previously filled out paperwork for a fee. The booth was situated in a large parking lot, so we were in sight of the line of people the whole time. My son was jumping up and down on the car seat watching everything around us as a baby of that age is likely to do. It was hot outside. He was wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit that left his chubby arms and legs bare. The line was long, so we sat there quite a long time. All the windows in the car were down and I had a fan to fan us with. We were parked so the sun was not coming into the car, and we were comfortable enough even though it was a very hot sun shiny day. Suddenly a Guardia National officer complete with weapon rapped on the side of the car. He pointed at my son and began to speak Spanish. He seemed very agitated. I could only speak English. He became more excited as he tried to get across what he wanted me to know. He waved his hands and tried to find English words to use. He finally came up with oh, oh, poor baby. Over and over. Then he would point at the sun. Then at the baby. I was confused, shook my head. No, he is OK. It went back and forth. Poor baby. No baby OK. Then after a few minutes it struck me. My son's skin had a reddish cast to it which is a Red-haired child's natural skin tone. The officer's idea was that the child had a bad sunburn, and his mother did not know it. Just then my husband returned to the car. I pointed at his red hair and complexion and then to my son. The officer took one look at my husband and realized what I was pointing out. He pointed at the sun and shook his head No? In a questioning manner. I shook my head and pointed at my husband again. He laughed and laughed. So, did I. There is a reason red haired people are often nicknamed red. The rest of the day I smiled at the incident and even today it gives me a good laugh to think of it many years later. I can remember the situation well enough to believe there was a muse helping us communicate somewhat in spite of the language barrier. A muse communicates in whatever the situation may require. It's the thought you did not expect, that makes a comment you did not know you were going to write. Word count: 838 includes prompt apondia#1781748 |
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