%%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. |
| May 16th Prompt: What do you do to make the world a better place? Wow, this is a heavy-weight question. What do I do? Am I a steward of Earth? Hmmm... Well, I do practise a few things and I don't know if they make a huge impact. I can only hope that my efforts are beneficiary when combined with those of others. I try to lessen the garbage I generate by actively recycling. Never do I dispose of cans, plastics,glass bottles and paper. I refuse to purchase 'bottled' water. I consider it a waste of resources to package this and far too many of those plastic 'bottles' become one-use abominations. All of my baking supplies and cooking spices are purchased in bulk from a store that permits me to utilize my own containers. I believe in reduce, reuse, and recycle. When I outgrow anything, be it clothing, furniture, cookware, or knick-knacks I find a new home for it. Some items are repurposed. In my youth when I could bend and carry weight with considerably more ease I toiled with a group of women to plant trees. At the time, I fed more than my fair share of voracious insects, but the sacrifice was minimal. I learned the meaning of blood,sweat, and tears. Contributing to the survival of those blackflies and mosquitos was purely incidental. Yuck, they are part of the food chain / life cycle, too. I consider trees precious. I fully support paperless transactions such as online payment of bills. I read on-line e-zines and news stories. In the summer, I maintain a small perennial garden with an assortment of plants that attract bees and butterflies. It's a win-win. I enjoy some colour and my 'guests' enjoy a meal. When feasible, I opt to walk and leave my vehicle parked at home. I refuse to drive everywhere and only do so when absolutely necessary. Alas, I cannot claim to operate an electric car, not yet anyway. Where I reside they are not practical, or affordable.Perhaps one day... As for people, I will stop, talk and listen to anybody. Everyone likes to share their stories. Over the years I've volunteered with different organizations that made me feel useful such as Girl Guides, our local fall fair executives, and varied schools. It takes the spirit of cooperation to make the world go 'round. |
| May 15th prompt: Many fairy tales are often based in truth. Research the true story behind your favourite fairy tale and share with your readers. What lesson or warning was the tale trying to impart? First, choosing a favourite fairy tale caused me to stop and reread a few. I wanted to refresh my memory. I like the basic story behind Beauty and the Beast. So, I then lost myself in research. As always, I'm amazed what can be found online. Thanks Google! So, what did I discover could be the truth to one of my favourite fairy tales? It dates back to 1537 and a boy named Petrus Gonsalvus living in Spain. Apparently, he was believed to be a beast because of his all-over body hair due to a condition known as hypertrichosis, or more commonly werewolf syndrome. News of his unique appearance reached King Henry of France who summoned ten-year old Petrus to his court. There the boy was groomed to be a nobleman and when the king died his wife Catherine de Medici found a wife, also named Catherine, for Gonsalvus. This is where the concept originated. A beauty learned to love 'the beast.' This couple celebrated a forty-year marriage that produced seven children. Four of their offspring inherited the werewolf syndrome. Basically, this tale teaches that looks are deceiving and that true beauty comes from within. I also believe it encourages a belief in magic wherein falling in love is magical. |
| PROMPT May 14th If animals could talk, which animal would you want to have a conversation with? What would you ask? So, to be clear here, we're not considering people to be animals for the sake of this prompt? If communication was possible which non-human would I like to quiz? I've co-habited with dogs and during our sojourn as room mates I've interpreted their responses and behaviours as best I could. Alas, I was never fluent in canine. Many times I was at the receiving end of a cocked head and a silent stare. Speaking in my language of choice never elicited a reply. Sure, I might earn a tail wag, or a pleading whine, but what did they mean? Through a mind-boggling happenstance I conversed with an eloquent representative of the dog family. I cannot claim to be any the wiser. This then is our wide-ranging conversation. Me: "Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to speak with me. Um, do you have a name? What should I call you?" Dog:" That's a great question and I really don't have an answer for you. My limited understanding of English has me believing my name could be 'Atta boy', 'get down', 'enough', or 'shut up, now.' Call me Bob, I like the sound of that." Me: "Oh, okay Bob. I've always wanted to know why dogs cannot just settle down. Why do they circle 'round and 'round before they lie down? Are you hoping to find something?" Bob: "Do I do that ? I've never noticed. I don't know what to tell you. Habit? Does it bother you that much? Have you not heard this, let sleeping dogs lie?" Me:" "Yes, I have Bob. My dogs were quite the twitchers while they slept. Do you dream?" Bob:" I dunno. Sometimes, when I startle myself awake I sense that I've been disturbed." Me:"Why do you chase your tail? I'm assuming that you do this. Have you ever caught your own tail?" Bob:"Regrettably, no. My tail just waves and teases me. I can't resist. I just know someday I will catch it." Me:"Ah, so that's what the tail wagging the dog means. Tell me, can you explain why dogs bark at the drop of a hat? I've witnessed a dog barking at a closet. Some dogs bark at falling leaves. Is this where people get the idea of barking mad? Isn't that a tad bit odd?" Bob: "What's odd about it? We like to bark. We like the sound of our own voices. Have you never been attacked by a falling leaf? Me personally, I'm always on guard." Me:"Do you consider yourself to be a smart dog, Bob? What I mean is can an old dog learn new tricks? Are you old, Bob? Have you been around the block? Could I refer to you as long in the tooth?" Bob:"Well I will admit to not being a spring chicken, but I still believe I'm a dog in the race. I'm quite capable of learning, but I am a creature of habit. What more do I need to know? Do I enjoy jumping through hoops and performing tricks? No, not always. What I do I do because it amuses my room mate. Don't actions speak louder than words?" Me:"I wondered how I'd introduce this next question. Are you man's best friend? Would you be happier living alone?" Bob:"I'm not ready to live a solitary life. I like my creature comforts. My room mate is an okay fella. He shares his home with me and most of the time the food is delicious. I'm a big fan of the you scratch my back philosophy. Yep, I'd say we're pals. There's no dog eat dog rivalry. I'm not planning to go anywhere. Are you finished quizzing me? Every dog has its day and this was my day to nap out on the back deck." Me:"Well, I suppose I have one final question for you and you might consider it to be a delicate one. There's no other way to ask you, so, here it is. Why do dogs sniff each other's butts? Do you like feeling a cold nose probing your posterior?" Bob:"No, personally I find a nose exploring my nether regions to be an invasion of privacy. Some sniffers are a little too aggressive. I like to get to know a dog first and ease into that. We should circle each other, wag our tails and at least exchange a meaningful glance. To be honest, no two dogs smell the same. My eye sight may fade, but my nose will remember every scent its encountered. We believe in smell you later. So, are you finished? Have I satisfied your curiosity?" Me :"Yes, I've dogged you enough. Haha! Thank you, Bob. I went to the horse's mouth, or in this case I went out to the dog house and I got some answers. I'd recommend people go to the dogs more often. This has been illuminating." |
| PROMPT May 13th What does it mean to be a “grown up”? What do you do regularly as an adult that you dreaded having to do when you were a child? Have you found ways to maintain a sense of childhood wonder or curiosity? If so, how? Isn't being a grown up a state of mind? Do the years I've been on this earth add up to maturity? In other words, should I be acting my age? What is that exactly? Am I considered wise and all-knowing? What is this elusive 'better' and why should I know about it? Obviously, the older I get the more questions I have. Age has not shielded me from them. I suppose being a grown up means I accept responsibility for my actions. In the hustle and bustle, I'm not always responsible for what happens around me, but I am for how I react. I can attempt to control myself and not play the blame game. When and if I hurt someone, I apologize. I struggle to be kind to others and to myself. I am human and thus imperfect. Being an adult is not all glitz and glamour. Despite what we fantasized as children making our own decisions is often dreary, and involves too much drudgery. We drag ourselves out of bed and trudge off to our jobs whether we feel inspired, or not. We show up and adult. As a grown up I choose what cookies I will eat and how many. If I wish to binge-watch a t.v. series no one reminds me that I need sleep, or that I'll be waking early the next morning. I will never ever wear a hat , or scarf again because I do not like them. What colds? I don't catch them. I still opt to squint in sunlight and surprise, my face has not stayed permanently twisted. If I want to sit and read a book while I ignore household chores then so be it. Nothing terrible will occur if the dirty dishes pile up. I do not always draw the drapes closed the moment the sun sets and so far I'm still breathing. Who else cares if I make my bed? Gasp, I've taken a risk and spoken with a multitude of strangers and I survived to tell about it. So far, I've not met any serial killers. What did I dread having to do as a child? For some inexplicable reason, I dreaded asking for help. I wanted to be independent and I could be stubborn. I've learned that most people are more than happy to assist me in any way and I reciprocate. Teamwork and collaboration is sometimes fun. Huh, I'd planned to write that I dreaded taking care of the family's dirty dishes especially drying them. That's a tedious task and now that I consider myself grown up I refuse to towel-dry my dishes. I leave them to drip and air dry. Mind you, some of the dish towel 'wars' I engaged in with my siblings were epic. My skin still retains the sharp memory of a damp snap. As a certified adult, I don't recall any such behaviour. That's a pity. A vibrant part of me still refuses to act my age. There's no harm in a bit of mischief now and again. For that I spend agreeable time with my three grandgiggles. I know I'm not too old when I can make them laugh. We enjoy our forays and road trips. I am blessed to view things anew with them. I view the cartoons and movies they share with me. I doodle and craft with them. I read children's literature and marvel at not only the stories, but the marvelous illustrations. Above all, I listen and I do not judge. I consider this my third childhood and all I had to do was survive the second one with their parents. |
| PROMPT May 12th What TV show character would it be the most fun to change places with for a week? Why? Well, isn't this an intriguing prompt. Imagine switching places with a television show character. Just suppose your life is different, but only for a week. The possibilities are endless. I must say that I've never given this much thought. Who would I like to be for seven days? This is above and beyond wearing a costume at Halloween. I do know who I do not wish to be. Try as I might I cannot picture myself as a deranged murderer with serious mommy issues like Norman Bates of Bates Motel.This series is a prequel and is based upon the Psycho characters originally created by Robert Bloch. Spending an entire week plotting and then executing the violent demise of someone is not my idea of fun. Sure I'd most likely get away with it because of my brief presence, but it's still a firm no. In that vein, I'd also skip seven days in the series Hannibal. Being a cannibal and dining upon my victims is not my cup of tea. Neither is torturing and committing diabolical murders in my repertoire. Obviously, I've viewed some twisted programs. It may not seem like it, but I do enjoy watching comedies, too. A week of laughs might be doable. I could see myself sparring with Al, the shoe salesman in Married With Children. Of course, I'd temporarily replace his neighbour, Marcie. Ah, the verbal sparring would be epic. I'd be able to rub shoulders with Al and his family. I'd banter with Al's wife, Peggy. I'd experience the middle class suburbia of America firsthand. Oh, the writing material I'd glean. Now If I wished to reside somewhere extremely different and in no way similar to my current abode, I might opt to live under the ocean in Bikini Bottom where Spongebob Squarepants/i} dwells. No, no, I do not fancy being a simple-minded fry cook. Since I already have the name and she seems to possess some reasoning skills, I'd like to switch with Sandy Squirrel. Isn't a water-exploring rodent unique? I like her Texas drawl and fearless attitude. She lives outside of her comfort zone. She has accepted speaking sea creatures as her companions. I could communicate with a sponge, a starfish, a crab, a squid, and more. The fact that they build flaming campfires under the sea fascinates me. What's not to find funny? In the spirit of what-ifs, I'd like to be Lucy of I Love Lucy. Now that was a woman who never said never. She and I share a propensity to be clumsy, so I wouldn't have to fake that at all. Lucy often found herself in predicaments, but she made it out the other side to do it all over again. Her struggles did not lessen her spirit. Perhaps I could exchange lives with Norm or Cliff of the comedy show Cheers. How difficult could it possibly be to park my derriere on a bar stool and drink beer for hours at a time? I'd have a front row seat to the drama walking in off the street. What better location to observe people? I am a people watcher. I'd be considered as one of the bar's regulars and I could become a confidante to anyone who cozies up to the bar next to me. I'll admit to viewing my fair share of television programs. I'd be remiss not to mention Canadian content. I'd be delighted to be anyone in Corner Gas, or Schitt's Creek. Both of these shows showcased fantastic , loveable, and hilarious characters. In both of these series, everyone supported each other no matter how outrageous they could be. Spending a week with such casts would be an honour. |
| PROMPT May 11th What was cool when you were young but isn’t cool now? Is there anything that has become cool in recent years that wasn’t cool in your youth? Hmmm, if I answer this I will be revealing my age by way of clues. Not that it's a big secret. Oh, and does anyone actually say 'cool' anymore? Many different words have been substituted for 'cool' over the years. I've only ever heard this in a movie soundtrack, but at one time long before the 'in' people of today were born the 'cool' crowd advertised their coolness by proclaiming things to be the "cat's pyjamas." I suppose anyone who was crazy enough to dress an animal with claws earned that title. Or did this convey that a person was special / unique in the same way a garbed cat would be? I wonder if feline-patterned p.j.s are considered cool? Let's not forget the other cat phrases, "the cat's whiskers' and "the cat's meow." Real trend-setters those cats. In a long ago era, 'cool' translated to "the bee's knees." Excuse me, but do bees have knees? I suppose if they did have a functioning mid-leg joint that could be seen as cool. Now my mind has wandered into uncharted territory. If bees did indeed possess knees could they in the realm of all things are possible wear knee socks? Huh, thanks to good ol' Google, I've learned that fantastic experiences were once described as " the flea's eyebrows", or "the canary's tusk." Now, I'm thinking Google should be known as Boggle. Who thought of these? Wow, people once spoke these combined words and comprehended them. Nonsensical and offbeat... This is fodder for cartoonists. Another strange term for cool is "cool beans." We all are aware that the after product of consuming beans is not in the least cool. Why beans? Could this not as easily been cool carrots? There have been so many words used to express cool. "Funky", "swell," "awesome," "dope," "fab," "rad," "wicked,' "dynamite," "hip," "sick," "trendy," and 'groovy", all have been synonymous with cool. Obviously, cool has always maintained an important presence. Okay, okay, I've procrastinated long enough. When I was younger, physically 'cause age is as we all know a state of mind and nothing more, cool folk frolicked in denim jeans worn low on the hips and accentuated with flares which we called bell-bottoms. If I stood with my legs together, I resembled a ship's sail. Don't ask me which one, I'm not a sailor. Some, of my jeans featured embroidery and nobody dared appear in public in torn jeans. The number one brand was Levi's. Stonewash tried to be a trend, but I preferred my dark blue denim to fade naturally via wear. Bedazzling had not yet reared its tacky head and true denim did not have a hint of stretchable material in it. Leotards, or leggings were not worn in public and they were considered workout gear for dancers. To casually stroll about in a denim jacket was construed as cool. I never was a slave to most trends. I've always garbed myself in jeans and t-shirts. I ignored the platform shoe fad that so many had to follow. Picture the band Kiss, or Herman Munster. They wore platform footwear. Of course, they did not simply stroll, they clomped. Despite the iconic hairstyles of my youth, I kept my mane long, straight and free-flowing. I never spent hours in front of a mirror with a fresh can of hairspray like my sister Laurie did to copy the Farrah Fawcett look. Some of my friends imitated the figure skater Dorothy Hamill's signature short-bob haircut with bangs. Now, some people choose to shave one side of their head, or add 'fake' hair braids. Any colour of the rainbow brightens hair today. A few sport the entire colour spectrum in what's known as 'mermaid hair.' What's cool now, but didn't exist before? Video games. In my youth, people frequented establishments that provided pinball machines that operated on an influx of coins. Nowadays video games are everywhere and accessed via computer, cellphone, and tablet. I'm not a fan. I find the repetitive music blaring on a loop to be annoying. Fuddy duddy me. Cellphones are a marvel that did not exist when I claimed to be a kid. A gadget that slips into one of my pockets is the swiss army knife of communication. What can't it do? In my hand, I hold a mini computer, a phone, a phone book of listings, a texting device, a camera, a calculator, a photo album, a notebook, a flashlight and and... did I miss anything? This is the bee's knees! Wait, I bet I could snap a great pic of a bee and then I'd know if a bee does indeed have knees. |
| PROMPT May 10th Think back to a time when you felt completely calm. What made you feel that way? There are a multitude of times when I felt the polar opposite of calm. Internally, I screamed and wailed. I struggled to focus. I swallowed the claustrophobic specter of my fear and helplessness. My mind raced with one scary scenario after another. For better or worse, I know what it feels like to have my heartrate accelerate within a second and my heart fling itself against my chest. I forced myself to breathe. I concentrated on the present, the tangible, and grasped it tightly. Over the years, my offspring have subjected me to one stress test after another. My son especially has survived more than his share of accidents. Bike accidents, car crashes, sporting mishaps, a dog mauling, a cat attack, flying falls from furniture, workplace incidents, and an afternoon trapped in an army tank form a scarred tapestry of our experiences. Not once did I ever feel calm. Not once could I afford to panic. Have I ever felt completely calm? Have I not always felt tension, friction and unrest? Sure, there's the calm before the storm, but it's a brief waiting period, a respite. My guard is on high alert. It does not know relaxation. What's that expression? I wait for the other shoe to drop. To outward appearances, I may seem calm. I'm not pacing. I'm not ranting and raving. I choose not to throw objects, lash out, or kick. I refrain from confrontation. I suppose I am in control. Well, in control of my reactions. Much of life is beyond my control. I'm wracking my brain. Since I embarked upon the pot-holed path of motherhood I've been on standby, alert and ready for whatever should happen. Calm? Cool? Collected? I am at my calmest when I am absorbed with reading a book. Time ceases to exist. Human concerns such as thirst and hunger become irrelevant. Background noise becomes muted. My location doesn't matter. I shall always be grateful that respiration is a natural reflex. Never do I command my eyes to blink. When I read I am immersed in the storyline. No one need ever command me to calm down. If someone wishes me to calm down they need only to hand me a book. |
| May 9th prompt : Write about language. What do you wish you could speak? What's the most pleasant sounding accent? What's the funniest word in the English language ( or your native language)? Whew, so many questions today. My brain is whirring. This feels like an English exam. Is this a trick query? Are there funny /strange / weird English words? Of course there are! I salute any one learning to speak, write and navigate this contrary language. Rules, what rules? 'I' before 'e' except after 'c.' Weird. Pronunciation, shmunciation.Cough does not rhyme with dough. Shoe does rhyme with blue and two and stew. Then there is hi, hie, and high. Never mind the different meanings of words that sound alike. Utterly mind-boggling and I grew up with this language. Does the perfect accent exist? Si. I love the Spanish accent. It is musical, magical and it rolls off the tongue. It would be wonderful to become fluent in it.I'd combine my new smooth talkin' with trips where it'd be appreciated. Hasta la vista amigos! |
| Prompt May 8th Write about your favourite outdoor activities to do in the summer. Are there any that you want to try? Wait, is summer on its way? I ask because a day ago I experienced most forms of weather save snowfall. Howling winds slashed me with pelting rain before hail struck. For a few brief minutes, mini ice balls pounded my vehicle. Sunshine burst forth and parted the ominous dark clouds. Then the pouring rain returned. I switched on the windshield wipers and created a steady swish swish only to cease their rhythm because the shy sunbeams shimmered once again. Yes, there was wonky weather... So, when and if summer sashays into my neck of the woods bestowing balmy temperatures, I'll be ready.My flip flops are standing by and I've banished my snow boots to the dark recesses of the closet. My socks know their company will not be required for much longer and our days together are limited. Shorts and t-shirts are standing by.I anticipate a smooth transition to summer attire. One of my most 'favouritest' summertime activities is lawnchair reading reclining. There's really not much pre-season strength training needed. Cradling weightier novels and rifling through several hundred pages during the winter builds endurance. Pulling on down-filled parkas and shovelling snow creates the required muscles for unfolding and positioning a canvas deck chair. Pretty much balancing / perching on anything will condition the derriere to the necessary sitting posture. Besides reading, I also like to swim, but I have learned over the years to not combine the two. Books as a rule are not waterproof. I discovered that even a few drops of moisture will fuse pages together. Unless I am lucky enough to be swimming in the lake alone, I must be aware of others. It's like driving and navigating traffic. Lakes become congested too and splashing about with my nose buried in a book may cause pile ups and collisions. Strangely, dripping wet people are not always cool-headed. Is barbecuing considered to be a summer sport? Oh, some will know this time honoured method of cooking as grilling. Charbroiling my food is a summer tradition. There's such a fine line between rendering meat 'unraw' and cremation. It's a challenge. Nerves of steel, patience, and quick reflexes are a must. I do enjoy a campfire of an evening. This is my social venue. This is relaxation combined with star-gazing. This is conversation mixed with off-key singing. This is game-time challenges paired with laughter. Summertime is for camping.I choose a slower paced lifestyle. I am always outside soaking up the sun and inhaling fresh air.For a few months, I eschew t.v. viewing. I enjoy meeting fellow campers and the camaraderie we share. We stop and smell the smoke from our campfires. My days of water skiing are behind me now. My arms thank me and they do not miss being jerked from their sockets. My legs never did like to strain themselves pretending to balance. My style lacked flair of any kind and I teetered and crashed more than I skied. Perhaps I shall attempt tubing again. There's nothing to compare to the teeth-rattling, bone-jarring, eye-tearing, and white-knuckle gripping of a water tube ride. Being flung into the air and crashing into the boat's wake is a singular thrill. I anticipate an entire summer to recover. |
| PROMPT May 7th In your entry today, write about dreams. Do you dream often, or do you rarely remember your dreams? What is the strangest or most memorable dream you have ever had? No one could, or should call me a dreamer. I'm a tosser-turner. Every night I struggle to fall asleep. I relate to the internet memes that depict the brain asking strange questions as its host attempts to slumber. It's as if my brain decides to enter a marathon just as my head hits the pillow. Snippets of conversation swirl amid news reel scenes. Memories resurface to bounce and bob along. Writing nuggets clamor to be noticed and are only silenced if I rise, search for a pen and paper, and scribble them down. Plans that had not existed pre-bedtime float into focus. That elusive word, or phrase that niggled just out of reach all day jumps up and shouts, "Here I am." That comment I meant to share earlier waves. I don't count sheep. I tend to scrutinize each one and think how to best describe them. I wonder why the heck some consider this a sleep aid. Why must the sheep jump? Where should they jump from and what kind of jump is best for them? Are sheep mindless followers? Oh, aren't gullible people referred to as 'sheeple?' Huh, sheep get a bad rap / rep. Why am I singing Baa Baa Black Sheep? Did any one other than Mary have a little lamb? Ack! I've tried forced and controlled relaxation of my various body parts. This seems to take too long. By the time I've willed my head and neck to relax and I'm concentrating on one of my arms my nose develops an itch. If I somehow manage to reach my lower limbs my neck is screaming that it's uncomfortable and it's imperative that I change position, or risk permanent paralysis. My legs refuse to cooperate at all. They moan and groan. Nothing makes them happy and they prefer to thrash about. At their most contrary they surprise me with an excruciating cramp, or charlie horse. My reaction is the polar opposite of calm and serene. So, no, I never dream. To be accurate, I rarely experience restorative sleep. By the tortured time I finally fall sleep I'm exhausted and in a brief time I'm awakened by my body's urgent need to roll over. |
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