*Magnify*
    March     ►
SMTWTFS
     
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/nannamom/sort_by/entry_order DESC, entry_creation_time DESC/page/4
Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #2017254
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.
Previous ... 3 -4- 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 ... Next
November 6, 2023 at 2:06pm
November 6, 2023 at 2:06pm
#1059037
Day 3913: November 6, 2023

Prompt: “Peering from some high window, at the gold of November sunset and feeling that if day has to become night, this is a beautiful way.”
E. E. Cummings

Let this quote inspire your blog entry about a November sunset.
         
         
         
         
         
Just a minute. There's been a November sunset? Locally? If at least one has blazed a trail across the sky, I've missed it. Did I blink? Was I preoccupied? Could I have been totally lacking in the observation department?
I am aware of nothing but rain and snow clouding the horizon so far this November. One word sums up this recent weather, grey. Wait, I could also describe it as gloomy the total opposite of sunny. Doesn't sunshine need to be present in order for it to slip into a glorious, brilliant, marvel-at-me sunset?
         Local early -riser-photographer types have posted amazing shots of recent sun rises showcasing vivid splashes of glowing red. This brings to mind the saying "red sky in morning sailors take warning."
         During my daily evening saunter about the village I lament the early mantle of darkness that heralds winter. I understand why natives refer to winter as the long night.
November 5, 2023 at 1:23pm
November 5, 2023 at 1:23pm
#1058951
BCOF November 5th prompt: Write about self-care and what it means to you.          
Self-care means I matter. It means I strive to tend to my needs. It means I deserve pampering and self-respect.
         I recognize and acknowledge that I am not perfect and sometimes I struggle. There are times I will fail, fall flat, but I brush myself off and try again.          
I do not begrudge myself me time. Reading and writing are solitary pursuits that I enjoy.
         I bribe myself to walk and exercise. It's for my own good, move it or lose it. My knees may protest, but I am insistent.
         Self-care means I am better able to care for my family.With the respite of me time, I'm better equipped to deal with stress.
November 4, 2023 at 1:09pm
November 4, 2023 at 1:09pm
#1058885
DAY 3911 November 04, 2023
Prompt: Write about a lesson you learned the hard way.
         
         
         Write about only one life lesson? That's a tad bit more doable than rehashing my entire life's library of lessons. The volumes would be worn and dusty. There are not enough words or hours for that.
         One lesson in particular is relentless. It hasn't finished with me yet. It stalks me. It mocks me. It reminds me I am at its mercy, prey to its whims.
         I am warily referring to almighty gravity. At this moment it's most likely staring over my shoulder biding its time to pounce. Any time is lesson time.
         Sure gravity prevents me from floating away and keeps my head out of the clouds. It does not however anchor my two feet to the ground. My gravity prefers to push, pull, drag me kicking and flailing. I am kept in perpetual unbalance, off-balance, swaying, treading in trepidation. Ambulating upright is not a right, an expectation.
         Perhaps gravity is suggesting I consider a career as a stuntwoman. Are all my falls meant to prove I can roll, weave, tumble with the best of them?
         Possibly I should look into becoming a living, breathing crash-test dummy. I don't require a simulator or computer cables/sensors. Wouldn't researchers appreciate a test subject able to transmit the universal okay signal, a thumbs up? I'd be willing to throw in an occasional utterance of "ta da."
         It's almost time for another lesson. Someday I will perfect the movement known as walking.
November 3, 2023 at 2:51pm
November 3, 2023 at 2:51pm
#1058825
November 3rd, 2023. BCOF Prompt: Use 8 'fun' words: agile, loud, patrol, quarter, harm, squeeze, charter and seed.
Out loud I'm thinking
My brain gears clinking
What harm in this
A creative seed inkling
To squeeze out a rhyme
An agile word chime
A quarter beat miss
In a blog-run clime
With charter I balk
barter, block, backtalk
What harm in this?
No patrol for shlock.
November 2, 2023 at 3:53pm
November 2, 2023 at 3:53pm
#1058639

DAY 3909 November 02, 2023
What's special about November 2nd? What is special about November 2? Did you know it's International Project Management Day, National Men Make Dinner Day, International Stout Day, National Stress Awareness Day, and Dynamic Harmlessness Day.

Pick one or maybe two and discuss them in your entry today. Have fun!
         National Stout Day, eh? And National Men Make Dinner Day, too? Two more glorious celebrations in the year's arsenal of extravaganzas. Oh wait, National Stress Awareness Day shares top billing as today's holiday de jour. Somehow I see them merging together, seamlessly.
         Picture my father an avid cook and devoted food fancier not one to turn away a refreshing glass of beer after a day toiling as a diesel mechanic. Why do I mention his hands-on career choice? To cook as he did meant ignoring the use of spoons and measuring gadgets such as delineated cups. To truly grasp a pinch of this and a handful of that he relied upon his black, grease-stained hands. He liked to feel as he kneaded and stirred with his stout, strong hands.
          His cooking style: recipe, shmecipe. He stoutly relied upon instinct. As long as his meals weren't charred they were edible. Too often he assuaged my initial misgivings with a wave of his hand and this proclamation.
         "It ( and it could and most likely would be anything ) will make you a hale and stout fellow with hair on your chest."
         Ah, geez, thanks Dad. Just what your eldest daughter yearns for, strength and body hair.
         Now I'm not dismissing his homestyle, hearty fare. I learned to appreciate his culinary creations after first attempting my childish objections. Really, did onion absolutely need to be in everything and why must our tongues scream for soothing water after an assault with fiery spices? We children endured the stout, determined, obstinate indoctrination. Now I cannot fathom much less consider cooking without onions and spices. I even brag about my stout, bulletproof stomach.
         My father embodies stout both as a beer fan and a proud, strong meal-cooking man. In his lifetime he also became stout of figure / physique. He was his own best guinea pig.
         Where does the stress awareness fit into this? Somebody and it wasn't dear ol' Dad had to clean up the kitchen. Do you have any inkling of how stout as in stubborn and sturdy spilled flour can be? It resists efforts to wipe it and it clings with a tenacious fierceness. It was almost enough to drive me to sample Dad's glass of stout. Almost, but not quite. Stout, beer, or ale, yuck!
November 1, 2023 at 10:05am
November 1, 2023 at 10:05am
#1058426
         Do I have a favourite author? Hmmm, I read many books and most I enjoy.
         For a quick read I turn to James Patterson and his co-writers. There are different lead characters and back stories. Oh, wait, he's the most prolific writer. I joke with the local librarian that JP needs an entire space for his own works. I like mysteries.
         The one author I admire and anticipate new books from is Canadian, Louise Penny. She has crafted a series based on a French-Canadian detective, Gamache. The fictional town she describes, Three Pines, glows with the quirks of its citizens. An elderly, curmudgeonly woman is unapologetically her in-your-face self. She writes lovely poetry yet is at her best abrasive.
         LP too is a murder mystery author. Gamache believes in the psychology of crimes. The why of who-done-it is worth the read.
         I recently discovered authors Harlan Cohen and Michael Connelly. Their characters are also compelling.
September 7, 2023 at 4:39pm
September 7, 2023 at 4:39pm
#1055322
September 7, 2023.


Last Prompt 7
Write a movie review of one of the last movies you watched, on television, online, or in the movie theatre. Make us want to see that movie!

         Well this could be awkward. I believe the last movie I watched and 'watched' is putting it loosely, is of the romance genre. I wasn't paying attention. I busied myself playing an online word game while hubby chose and enjoyed the film. He is the one who loves this type of movie. Some refer to them as chick flicks, but I assure you my partner is not a 'chick.' He is however addicted/drawn/enamored to/of plots one could call 'lovey-dovey.' They are not my first choice. The Hallmark Channel has not beguiled me.
         He, I refer to hubby, is usually only home for two or three evenings and as such I permit him to wield the television remote controller. For his brief sojourn he commands the entertainment. He waves it from the loveseat and presses buttons. We have one television and it doubles as our computer screen.
         Sometimes, just for a change, the master-of-the-remote opts for an action movie. This genre appeals to me more than the cookie cutter newly-dumped-person-not-looking-for-love-meets-and-denies-sparks/attraction-only-to-wake-up-to-a budding-relationship romance schtick.
         Now it's not the action film in and of itself that is riveting. My spouse's reactions and by this I mean actual, physical actions are much more amusing. He immerses himself in what he watches. When the hero/heroine is running he pants and gasps with kindred effort. When the main character is jumped or assaulted and forced to fight he cringes and throws a few punches of his own. He ducks from imminent blows or hurtling objects. He clenches and flexes his hands. If the onscreen persona encounters a surprise hubby flinches and jerks. It's quite the reflexive workout.
         I suppose the most recent movie I watched in this genre would have to be categorized as an action/thriller film. The love of my life is a fan of anything to do with racing, vehicles and non-stop, harrowing, heart-pumping action. Perhaps he should've been a stunt man. The Fast and Furious franchise has now released ten movies and we sat down to view that tenth one. Predictably it bore the Roman numeral for ten, an 'x' in its title, Fast X .
         If you enjoy non-stop, life-endangering, breakneck-speed, mind-boggling, grand scale stunts than this is the movie for you. You will not be able to blink, or breathe as you perch on the edge of your seat. Have you ever imagined a giant metal bomb careening down the historic, cobbled streets of Rome? Is it unbelievable that the behemoth of an explosive smashes and destroys everything in its path including but not limited to parked vehicles, buildings, and a towering stone staircase? Would you believe it possible, or a far-fetched stretch of the imagination to see a classic car pulling not one, but two hovering helicopters by two lengths of chain?
         Oh, and if you are a fan of the actor Jason Momoa you will not be disappointed. In this movie he acts as a villain, a crazy, ruthless, flamboyant bad guy intent upon revenge and mayhem with the chilling, apropos name, Dante.
         My hubby loves the classic cars that star alongside people. Jason's car is a mauve , okay, lavender Chevrolet Impala. The hero, one of the heroes, Dominic, drives a black 1970 Dodge Charger, a muscle car. This is eye candy for aficionados. Hubby laments the damage these vehicles suffer during the high-speed stunts, but if you like grind 'em, smash 'em action this movie is a must.
         As if anyone needs more incentives to watch this film, my spouse slept well after the adrenalin rush he maintained for the length of the movie. The steering, swerving, braking, in a constant state of stress tired him out. Of course he had to sleep to recover.
September 6, 2023 at 9:47pm
September 6, 2023 at 9:47pm
#1055276
Prompt 6, September 6th, 2023.

Be as truthful and honest as you can be. Write a Life Will. What do you want your loved ones to know about your last days when you are terminally ill or suffer from dementia? What do you want and what not?
         
         
         
         
         
         Huh, this is not a prompt I expected to see in a blog exercise. To be honest I've not contemplated a living will. I spent the afternoon with two nieces and their newborns. We nattered, sipped tea, traded child-rearing stories, shared laughs, and enjoyed baby cuddles. The thought of dying never crossed my mind. We were in the moment without worrying about the future.
         Of course I realize that illness and death are possibilities. One of these is an eventuality. Neither may be given an exact date. Nothing is guaranteed. Well, except the dying 'thing.' It is a fact of life as much as birth.
         I'm not prepared to wing an answer in this blog response. The matter requires more than a cursory 'think' dredged in a short period of time to meet a posting deadline.
         A Living Will is a serious document and nothing compares to it. I should not be flippant. I should not be cavalier. My survivors will endure my 'passing' and I do not envy them their grief, their coping, their attempts to make sense of my wishes, and all that a relative's death entails. I hope there will be some grieving. I don't want anyone to be incapacitated and suffer unduly, so I suppose I wish that they miss me at least a wee bit. I want for them to miss my presence and not take my interactions with them for granted. I want that my family remembers me with a smile. I hope that they keep a few photos of me even if it's to laugh and commiserate with each other confirming I 'did not take a good picture.' I've never been a 'poser.' Okay, I admit I'd rather mug for the camera than take the opportunity to 'smile pretty.'
         I am under no illusions that my various collections will be preserved and cherished. My three children have told me repeatedly that they do not plan to adopt my assorted snowpersons and keep them in the manner to which they are accustomed. I am not a hoarder, so there is not that mess to clean up. Oh, many photos from a lifetime should be given a once over and not tossed willy-nilly. I would like my journals, my idea books and my writings to be kept and read. I've shared some of my creations with the subjects that inspired them. It's not an exaggeration, or a stretch to attribute much of my writing to family lore/history.
         Sigh, my plants may not survive me by many years, or minutes. From what I've witnessed only my younger sister has a green thumb and a fondness for greenery, but, alas, her home is already housing enough plants for a greenhouse designation. I do not wish to take them with me either. Perhaps my stalwart plants could be at my funeral to say their goodbyes and then attendees could be offered a chance to take one home.
         Finally I want my family to know that I loved them and I never regretted any of our adventures. We had fun, eh?
         Oh, and one last , but vital request. As a fan of Monty Python I believe this to be of the utmost importance. Check that I am not breathing. Imagine the shock when I am forced to protest, "I'm not dead yet."
September 5, 2023 at 3:11pm
September 5, 2023 at 3:11pm
#1055214
Blog Week Birthday Bastion September 5th, 2023 Prompt: React to a video in which writer Neil Gaiman speaks about the craft of writing.
         Okay, I viewed the suggested video in which writer Neil Gaiman speaks re his efforts to create. I suppose I will concede that he knows of what he writes and he undoubtedly has experience. I found him to be credible and sensible.
         "All fiction needs to be as honest as you can."
         I agree with his statement. Most of my writing attempts hinge upon real people who are characters in their own unique ways and actual, bonafide events. Some may not involve my family although most stories do include them. Sometimes I draw upon people I've witnessed, spied upon, studied 'cause I confess to enjoying people-watching. It's a fascinating past time. I remember snippets of conversations I either hear, or am involved with. A certain turn of phrase, or a different word piques my interest. Speech patterns speak to me.
         I find it refreshing that Neil, if I may be so bold as to address him as such, admits that he struggled with writing and he had to not only persevere, but learn how to write. He took a proactive approach and decided to become a journalist in order to meet people and ask questions. He respected that he needed to study his subjects for story ideas.
         Neil came to understand that writers read as craftspeople . They consider words, their nuances, their utility, their ability to weave a tale.
         What writer doesn't like to play with words? There are so many choices and possible combinations.
         Gaiman explains that he needed something to say. Yes, we all need to discover our own unique voice. He further admits that he did not want to be judged. I will always recall his analogy for this vulnerability. To be a writer you have to do/be the equivalent of walking down a street naked. To write is to expose yourself.
         So, to call yourself a writer you must be willing to become an exhibitionist, a flasher. Put yourself and your writing out there into the world. Open up and permit others to read your efforts.
         Now if I were to follow the advice about strolling along au naturel I would expect to become the subject of a horror story.
September 4, 2023 at 7:36pm
September 4, 2023 at 7:36pm
#1055169
         September 4th,2023 Blog Week Birthday Bastion Prompt: Choose a photo and start a blog. I opted for the turtle Photo prompt Blog Week It's fate and who am I to ignore fate? The following is a true story and occurred this past Labour Day Weekend.
         Picture if you will a mother and daughter driving away from a pleasant, fun family reunion of intense nattering disguised as a baby shower. Okay, the mother is me and the driver is my eldest daughter. Basking in the afterglow only the togetherness sprinkled with newborn baby cuddles can inspire we travelled along a dirt-covered backroad.
         "What's that on the road?" queried Carrie,"Is it a turtle? I've never seen one on a road like this. I'm going to help it."
         Carrie braked her car and shifted it into park leaving the engine idling. Not taking her eyes off the creature beyond the vehicle's front end we both remarked on its impressive bulk. Reaching for a fleece blanket on the back seat Carrie swung open the door.
         I couldn't agree with her choice of turtle transport gear.
         "No, not that. You won't be able to feel the turtle. It's too long and floppy."
         "Okay," she replied abandoning her initial plan to instead root around in the hatchback for a pair of leather gloves.
         Did I mention I'd already warned her that the turtle might react to her intervention by biting and scratching? He had no idea he was about to be rescued and his saunter across the road interrupted for his own safety.
         Pulling on the gloves my daughter the newbie turtle-transplanter approached her endangered target. I remained sitting in the front passenger seat and thus enjoyed an unobstructed view of the rescue attempt. An SUV arrived from the opposite direction and braked to take in the unexpected show.
         Inhaling deeply and planting her feet behind the turtle's rear end, Carrie executed the stoop and scoop method of animal retrieval. Grinning, she turned to me with the rescuee held hig          h and then dropped him.
         "Oops, I panicked. He wiggled. My bad."
         That poor creature out for a stroll minding his own turtle business. What could he be thinking? Did the sudden lift and loss of footing startle him? Did his stomach lurch like mine does when hurtling through space on a roller coaster?
         Determined to carry out her good deed my daughter again grabbed and hoisted. Intent on keeping her grip she began to walk towards the shoulder of the road. With her destination within reach Carrie's shoulders relaxed. Operation escort-the-turtle-off-the-road-for-his-own-good seemed destined for success. Carrie stepped as quickly as one can holding a shelled animal at arm's length.
         As I held my breath and noted Carrie's progress the entire rescue skewed sideways. With what she later described as "I screamed like a girl", Carrie threw her arms up in a sudden, dramatic, devastating move. I'm sure my mouth dropped open in disbelief as the turtle launched like a missile into the air. His body hurled in an airborne arc and disappeared in the ditch.
         Carrie's empty hands swung back to her side. She stumbled back towards her car shaking her head.
         "He didn't turtle, he didn't turtle," she muttered. "He wiggled again. I couldn't help it. He'll be okay. He's off the road now."
         I replied, "Not if he landed on his back. He'll be stuck."
         "What do you mean? Can't he roll over?"
         I shook my head and stated I didn't think he could, but perhaps if he landed on a slope he might right himself. Carrie strode to the ditch, but could not see her recent rescuee in the tangle of overgrown weeds and young trees.
         I attempted to bring a bit of brevity to this unexpected outcome.
         "The poor fella didn't wear a helmet and I don't remember him strapped into a parachute, but perhaps he tucked and rolled."
         I confess when Carrie first tossed the turtle we both reacted by laughing and so too did the witness-driver. It was absurd and not something we had ever experienced before. As we sobered Carrie lamented that she'd saved the turtle from a probable crushing death by car and had most likely killed him instead. Did she kill him with kindness?
Later that evening as she shared this mishap Carrie again said, "He didn't turtle."
         Not that she professes to be an expert, but my daughter intent on performing a good deed expected the turtle to retract his head and limbs when she hoisted him up to his eventual doom. We can only hope her next well-intentioned turtle relocation goes off without a hitch, or the rescuee is an experienced frequent flyer.

970 Entries · *Magnify*
Page of 97 · 10 per page   < >
Previous ... 3 -4- 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 ... Next

© Copyright 2024 SandraLynn Team Florent! (UN: nannamom at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
SandraLynn Team Florent! has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/nannamom/sort_by/entry_order DESC, entry_creation_time DESC/page/4