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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. |
| March 10th Prompt:How many languages do you speak? If you could instantly learn any language, and be able to speak it fluently, what would you pick? How would you use it and where would you go? Well, my mother tongue is Canadian English. I speak with the letter 'u' in colour and valour. I refuse to wear a toque in winter. No matter how they dress it up a toque is still a hat and I don't like hats. Je parle francais aussi. My youngest has a French name, Danielle, and now she's engaged to a French-Canadian. I'm on board with teaching their daughter , Alexandra,French. I find myself warning her, "Touche pas." Years ago, my eldest grand giggle who will be nineteen in May,(gasp), admonished me one bedtime. "It's good night Nanna NOT bonne nuit." Oddly, she never minded my saying, "Je t'aime." If I could somehow magically speak Gaelic, I'd be thrilled. My paternal heritage leads to Ireland.I'd love to meander the Emerald Isle. Knowing the local lingo would make my exploration authentic. The language seems so rich and vibrant. |
| PROMPT: What is your first memory of being really excited? This is a great question to which I do not possess a ready answer. I always liked everything about attending school, so I will go with the first day of kindergarten. I remember my teacher, Miss Clare and nap time. I've never been a napper. Imagine a talker such as myself being introduced to a roomful of new classmates, potential listeners. How could I possibly observe a forced quiet time let alone stay still on my blanket? I recall learning to tie my shoes as a "big girl" before I could go to school. I believe I felt very proud of my new skill. My one-year old grand giggle, Alexandra, positively quivers and vibrates with excitement. Her legs kick. She clenches and unclenches her hands. She babbles. She grins. She tries not to blink.That girl radiates anticipation. |
| March 8th Prompt: Spring Forward...Write about time and how you make the most of it. What is worthy of your time? What is not? What do people spent too much time on theses days?eses days? I've never been bored and stranded wondering how I will occupy myself. Even as a kid, I found ways and things to keep me amused. I don't need the stimulation of company to insulate myself from myself. I do not dread being alone and now I have the opportunity, the lifestyle to keep my own company most of the time. If I fancy conversation, I seek it out.There's nothing like a great natter and I consider it a wonderful expenditure of time. I've been known to lose all track of time simply sitting and thinking. Sometimes, I suppose, I am daydreaming. Occasionally, I reminisce. Often, my mind ambles down an inviting path only to discover an intriguing trail. I can and will lose myself in word games. I'm an avid reader and have never read to calm my mind in order to fall asleep. Once I begin a book I'm committed to finishing it. Luckily, I read , make that digest, a book quickly. In two maybe three hours, I turn the final page. Nothing would ever be checked off my to do list, if I read at a snail's pace. Needs like eating squawk to be appeased. Writing is definitely worthy of my time. I don't begrudge the hours spent considering just the right turn of phrase, or the perfect piece of dialogue , or the most descriptive words. Creating a concept or a storyline exercises "my little grey cells." Poirot epitomizes the thinker. Of course, I believe baking to be worthwhile.Cookies, muffins, and cakes are delectable rewards. I believe people,myself included, spend too much time wading through social media. Yes, it is a means to reach out and communicate. I've reconnected with old friends. I scroll and marvel at the tidbits of online humour. I cringe at the atrocious spelling and grammar that proliferates this social platform, but it produces unintentional amusement, too. Real life should require real face-to-face interactions. Too many hide behind anonymity. They act as bullies. The chain posts and misinformation are staggering. Some participants insist upon spouting their own brand of hate, prejudice, intolerance, and ignorance. We may revert to ranting and raving as I'm doing now. |
| Prompt: What does wisdom mean to you? I believe wisdom is a combination of life experience and common sense. I'm thinking of that adage "wisdom of the ages". If I'm lucky enough to become a senior citizen, I hope to have learned a thing or two. I love this saying. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift, that's why it's called the present. Some would say that wisdom is acceptance. Live in the here and now. Don't rehash the past or waste time and effort worrying about the what-ifs. Enjoy today. This is an example of Not Wisdom: rubbing coffee grounds on your naked body to prevent cellulite, in a Starbucks. Another is not washing your hands despite public health warnings re Coronavirus. |
| PROMPT March 6th What product would you stockpile if you found out it would never be sold again? (If the product you choose is perishable, imagine, for the purposes of this question, that the product would remain useable/edible forever.) What I'm really being asked is what can't I live without? What would I miss? Hmmm, will I end up living in a foreign country totally separated from my favourite whatever? I know of someone who has chosen to live in Brazil and her go-to-product is peanut butter, Oh, she's tried making it herself, but she craves a certain brand readily available back home. She's learned to pack it in luggage during return visits and guests smuggle it in to her. For this past Christmas, I attempted to be a little more creative in my gift giving. I bestowed upon my not so little son a novelty gift. I wrapped an empty cookie tin with a recipe card tucked inside. On that card, I hand-lettered a contract, or a gift card of sorts. I promised to bake the cookies of his choice each month for the next year. He understood I meant this to be one batch per month times twelve. So far, I have honoured my commitment with two batches, double chocolate chip and peanut butter chocolate chip. I have ten more months remaining in this cookie commitment and I see that chocolate chips are a requirement, a clear favourite. Okay, heaven forbid that chocolate chips become an endangered baking supplement! That's inconceivable! That's it then, I would stockpile chocolate chips. I have a cookie connoisseur to satisfy. |
| PROMPT March 5th Write about a recent success. Yours or someone else’s - your choice! This is where I brag about my youngest granddaughter, Alexandra, aka Cutie Patootie aka Lovebug. Recently, as in February, she became a one-year old. For months, she has scooted around either by executing this unique rollover thing with her legs, or time-tested crawling. I'd almost forgotten how quickly a mini human moves. The beating her poor knees take! Initially, any attempts to mobilize on shaky legs caused her to squawk and revert to her tried and true method of portage. Standing she could and did tolerate. I'd wince every time she bounced on her legs and performed deep knee bends. Ouch! All she needed was a mirror and a bar and a Russian taskmaster. I suppose all that strength training has paid off. Alexandra has discovered and embraced walking, perambulating, strolling, whatever I wish to call it. My girl has her physical independence. Her legs are hers to command. I love the big grin on her face when she toddles around. Now when she approaches a window she is ready to peer out. She saves that extra step/stage of rising to her feet. Those feet have been waiting in the wings to show her their support. Sigh, I cannot admire those soft, unblemished feet as unused any more. Congratulations Alexandra! To quote Dr. Seuss, "Oh the places you'll go." |
| PROMPT March 4th Use the following words as inspiration for your entry: inquiry, curiosity, investigation, suspicion, and clandestine. (You need not use the words in your entry, but if you do, please highlight them in bold or a different color.) Jake sauntered into the kitchen. He'd heard banging, clattering, and now whispering. Something seemed to be happening almost under his nose. He felt sure it was clandestine and in his house he conducted all the investigations. In order not to raise any suspicion re his sudden appearance, Jake took his time circling the room. He lingered here and there. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him. He marched right up to the stove and inhaled deeply. Aha! He knew it! Cookies were in the oven. He couldn't help but slobber as he groaned. A hand approached with an inquiry. "Oh, hi Jake. Who's a good boy? Did you smell the cookies? Nothing gets past you, eh boy?" |
| PROMPT March 3rd If you could be paid for doing anything you wanted full time, what would you do? When you were a child, what did you dream of doing when you grew up? Then, take some time to research “unconventional” jobs (ie. hot air balloonist, deep sea invertebrate researcher, professional table tennis master, etc) and share one that you think you would be good at or would be fun to try. Ah, dreams! At one time, specifically a lifetime ago, I considered the medical field. Imagine moi as a doctor. I could help people at their most vulnerable. Is there anything more noble than healing the ill? Oh, well, there is teaching. I could see myself as an educator. I've always enjoyed learning and I admit to being a nerd at heart. I don't attempt to hide that I love research, reading, writing, projects, and more. Ah, shaping/nurturing the agile minds of children...Quite the responsibility! Double sigh inserted here. I have never been an athlete of any ilk or skill. Perhaps, I missed my calling as a professional trampolinist, or an aerialist soaring through the air in a big top? Sure... Maybe I could've been a clown. My pratfalls would be authentic. Clumsiness would never be feigned. If I'm inevitably going to trip and fall anyway, why not get paid for it and receive some compensation? Earning the laughter of fans could be wonderful! All I'd need is an over-active imagination. I could conceive of a persona and a costume. Unfortunately, Mad magazine already has a Kaptain Klutz. Wait a minute, inspiration has come squawking... Perhaps I could be a pro people-watcher. I love to do this anywhere and everywhere. Now, I'm not suggesting I'd be a spy, more a snooper, a curious bystander. Hmmm... |
| PROMPT March 2nd Write about the practice of making lists. Does list-making stifle creativity, or enhance it? When working on a big project, does making a list help organize your thinking, or cause you to feel more overwhelmed? Are you a habitual list maker, and if so, what do you list? Lists a necessary evil or a blessing? Hmmm...perspective is everything. Sometimes, I create a compilation of facts, anecdotes, snippets of conversation, and a rough outline before I attempt to write a story, but is it a list per se? I prefer to view it as a story enhancer. In the construction stage, my thoughts are all a jumble and clamouring for centre stage. Heaven forbid that a worthy idea slip through the cracks. Oh, there's always a mental list updating itself in my brain and for some perverse reason it insists upon a recap while I struggle to sleep. In the corporate world these would be addendums. Sigh, the sub-paragraphs are relentless. Now as for actual lists scratched out on a pre-labelled pad inscribed with the admonishing header, 'Things To Do', yes, I confess I've availed myself of their services. Trying to be an efficient domestic engineer and all that that entails, I dutifully conduct inventory of the pantry. If I discover a staple to be absent, I make a note of it. The trouble with this is that the list does not accompany me when I venture out to shop. I require an autonomous list, one capable of realizing I've forgotten it, and one willing to chase me down to deliver it to me. Ah, wait, what I really need is an assistant. I usually create plans on paper, an itinerary, for trips away from home. The act of scribbling down necessities helps to jog my memory when I'm running around stuffing a suitcase. Having an inkling of just what I may be doing or where I might be roaming, colours my choices of apparel. Then again, I live in Canada, and the weather is moody, so, packing a jacket is habit. Alas, this form of listing is not foolproof either. My youngest sister and her two daughters are the undisputed queens of lists. In their respective garages sit stacks of plastic blue storage bins. Each bin wears a list, or a tag that reveals its contents. Inside their homes, is a master list of the storage lists. They approach shopping as a military mission. Their lists are organized according to raid coordinates, er, I mean stores. I suspect, they even map the locations of their desired objects by aisle numbers. I've spied price comparisons on their lists, alternate sources, and references to each other's lists. They never dare to leave home without a handful of lists. My sibling even writes a master list of her smaller lists. I suppose this is her back-up, her fail safe. When my nieces were younger, their mother posted a weekly list on the fridge that presented seven days of meals. Yep, she is a super planner! I called it their menu. While sitting quite comfortably on a beach in Cuba a few years ago, my two daughters, my daughter-in-law, and moi penned a very important list. To some this list might seem to be an informal bequeathment, my last will and testament. It's scrawled upon the inside cover of the journal I scribbled in at the time. We hashed out who inherits what of my humble jewellery. Apparently, I am not expected to take it with me to my grave. I do hope they enjoy their future treasure hunt. I will be leaving boxfuls of journals behind. |
| Prompt: Leap Year....thoughts? Yes, that once every four-years phenomenon has just returned with an extra day. Meh, it was nothing special for me.In my day to day, it represented another twenty four hours in a glorious line of them. I busied myself with my usual pursuits, reading, writing, nothing too strenuous. Haha, so, a person born on February 29th is a leapling. Hmmm, I've never thought of my father-in-law as a leapling. In the rarefied math of this particular birth date, he is now 22. His physical body however is very much 88. My old man's old man is an old man. Huh, this is the first time I've referred to my hubby as an old man. Where did that phrase come from? If my partner is old and he's my contemporary then I too am old. Okay I will admit we are 'older',but not too old. We accumulate our birthdays every year. I cannot fathom choosing an alternate date for celebrations . Bob, my husband's father, is much more than a survivor of a quadruple heart bypass, a hip replacement, and prostate cancer. He's a vital father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. If he were indeed 22, he'd still be a single man in Bath, England. Decisions including to marry and emigrate to Canada were in his future. Bob is a renaissance man. In his lifetime he's graduated from herding sheep to working as a mechanical engineer.He created home movies with Super 8 film before discovering video and VHS tapes. He has embraced the art of e-mails and surfing on the internet, but he refuses to use a cell phone, an e-reader, or a tablet. Bob would be considered well-travelled. He enjoys finding church organs wherever he is and tickling the ivories. He shares photography with his family and friends.He once built a sail boat in his basement.Here's to more years of exploring, Bob.♡♡♡ |
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