My musings, my rambles and I welcome you.
LIVE WITH INTENTION.
WALK TO THE EDGE.
CHOOSE WITH NO REGRETS..
DANCE IN THE LIGHT
APPRECIATE MY FAMILY & FRIENDS.
|I wrote this a few years ago when I was expecting my husband home from a long business trip. I'm actually having this evening right now as I type my tea grows cold and hubby is snoring. I hope you enjoy.
The Perfect Christmas Evening
by the fire,
rests the dog.
surround the tree
as a soft glow.
In the late night
I sip my tea.
those I love
With a sigh,
I head for
Grateful to God
that those I love
best are home.
|I saw what you did last night
around the corner
in the light.
Tell me again.
What you were doing?
Why you were there?
Are sure you want to
stick with the tale that
I saw what you did last night.
You were sight to behold
and she held you quite tight
as I beheld you both.
Missing hours and lipstick might
be explained away.
But seeing is believing
and I saw what you did last night.
10/05/13 BCOF prompt:Begin a story or poem with - I saw what you did last night
|Prompt: Write a piece narrating a typical day for you. If you want create a fictional character and allow him/her to experience your day.
I wrote this piece a few years ago for a class. The prompt was to be a camera and write what you see. Because I had to work that day, it seemed a natural fit. And this is a typical day for me.
Scenes from Work
The whoosh of the automatic doors notify the nightshift that the day team has arrived.
The bright lights and conversation at the nurses’ station wars with the dimness and quiet of the babies’ alcoves.
Tendrils of Starbuck’s coffee waft from the break room.
Terri’s low voice and efficient reporting of the night’s event’s contrast with her rumpled scrubs.
The baby is wrapped with a fuzzy pink blanket and given a sugar sweetened paci. Taking the prepped area in his hand, Ross pricks the heel and waits for the blood to form.
As rich red blood flowed into the vial, Ross hears an “Aaahh” coming from behind him.
Pale and shaken, the baby’s dad sits in a recliner with his hands covering his bowed head.
The telephone’s shrill ring demands an answer even though all hands were busy.
The delicious aromas of roast beef and clam chowder coming from the cafeteria belie the cardboard meat and salty soup that awaited us.
Gack! The housekeeping crew has used too much bleach in the dirty utility room as Kathy can hardly breathe.
The tiny naked baby is lifted from his Isolette and placed onto his mom’s bare chest. He quickly nuzzles between her breasts as Heather covers him with a warm blanket and hat.
Lunch in the break room is controlled chaos. The TV is blaring the afternoon weather report. The crowd is mostly women talking a mile a minute to be heard over the newscaster and over each other.
The conversation ranges from spouses and kids to the latest medical advances to locker room talk that would make NFL players blush. Food is scarfed down in 30 minutes along with what relaxation that can be found in such a place.
Heather, back from lunch, is reviewing the criteria with a mom for a baby’s discharge.
Ross assisting a first time dad with bottle feeding his infant.
The telephone continues its shrill tyranny of noise.
The charge nurse is here asking for report for next shift.
Last rounds of feeds and meds for all babies
Everyone is tucked in. Rumpled scrubs greet the night shift as the doors whoosh open.
|This is a prompt from a few weeks ago. I am having trouble with writer’s block so I save the prompts just in case something will inspire me later.
Is there a painting or sculpture you’re drawn to? What does it say to you? Describe the experience. Or, if art doesn’t speak to you, tell us why.
I can’t think of a picture or a sculpture that really moves me. There are many great works that are beautiful, thoughtful, and engaging but I can’t say I have a favorite. I mean how can you choose between the Masters?
The Mona Lisa,
Each work is wonderful and has merit. I like most of the old world masters; Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Rembrandt, Monet, etc. I also enjoy American artists like Fredrick Remington, Charles Russell and Whistler. The Hudson River School of Painting by Thomas Cole is another beautiful body of work
Cartoons are what I really respond to as art. Don’t laugh but it’s true. A scratch of ink here and there, a few well-chosen words and you have something that makes a real impact. Graphic novels or comic books as they were called then introduced me to 17th century literature. I read Pilgrim’s Progress an edited child’s version to a boy I was babysitting. It turns out that it is quite the adventure story. I still remember the pictures, the dialogue, the impact it made on both of us. How much better is a story with a few strokes of ink and paint? At one time I wanted to be a cartoonist but I didn’t quite have the right (write) stuff.
I also love funny pictures and political cartoons. Belly laughs, stories, twitters, cringes, bittersweet snickers and groans are all welcome. One of my all-time favorites is a Hagar the Horrible ‘toon. Dr. Zouk is in a pub with Hagar. There is a glass of wine in front of them.
The good doc says “Some would argue that this glass is half full. Others would argue that it is half empty.” In the next panel, Hagar grabs the glass and downs it. In the last panel Hagar says “Why argue?”
How can you not love a media that gives you philosophy with a laugh?
|Tell us about the farthest you've ever traveled from home.
I've traveled to many places and this prompt is lovely because I have spent the day thinking and reliving some of my adventures.
When I lived at home in the Midwest, the furthest I ventured was Germany. I went to visit family and friends. Youth hostels and bed & breakfasts were the order of the day. We spent two weeks traveling the country seeing King Ludwig's castles. It was fun and funny. I wanted to stop at every interesting ruin or castle like structure. My cousins kept telling me that these were 'nothing but rocks,' and I would see more interesting stuff later. I did like the mad king's palaces but the ruins were just as cool. America is only 200 and some change years old. We have nothing like European history. I felt like I got to touch real history. Our history is yesterday in comparison.
German is not a language in that I excel. In fact, I have never attempted it before this trip. Attempt would be the operative word. It made for some interesting misunderstandings is all I'm going to say. I will say that I didn't think my table manners were that different. I did noted that my cousins didn't change their fork hand after cutting their food.
My youngest cousin asked me why I changed hands with my fork after cutting my meat.
"Because I eat with my right hand," I replied.
"But your fork is already in your hand?"
"The wrong hand," I said.
A couple of days later over beers, I learned I was the star anecdote in "Learning English" class.
It wasn't all fluff and beer. We went to Check point Charlie at the Berlin wall (Yes, it's been a few years since my trip.) and Dachau. The concentration camp visit had a profound effect on me. I became anxious and upset. I felt an overwhelming sadness. We left sooner than my friends want to because I couldn't handle it. Did I pick up on something? I do not believe in ghosts. I do believe in the power of the mind and suggestion. And I believe that Jesus can heal all hurts. I also agree with Shakespeare: 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' I don't know it all.
I haven't been back to Germany but I would like to revisit. With East and West together, there is more country to explore. And of course see the cousins.
| If you could trade places with someone for a week, who would it be?
I can’t say that I want to trade places with anyone in real life. I wouldn’t mind traveling to the past and changing a few things for my teenage self but then again there is the time paradox issue. Would I be the same person? Would I come back to the same life, that for better or worse is mine and I like it.
What about fiction? Who would I trade places with in fiction? Is a week in real time the same as fiction time? Do I get to finish the story? Do I get the happy ever after? Let’s think about this.
I love reading Jane Austen. I loved her even before she was cool. But to live in 18th-19th centuries? No indoor plumbing, no antibiotics, no microwaves. I don’t think so. Some might think Austen’s heroes would be worth it. Again I don’t think so. Darcy maybe right for Elizabeth but he is a prick before his transformation. If I was in Pride & Prejudice, I would have slugged him after overhearing his “not pretty enough to tempt me" remark. And then later, I would flirted outrageously with his cousin Col. Fitzwilliam. Probably not a good idea to jump into Pride & Prejudice.
Persuasion is my favorite Austen because the heroine is older and the happy ending takes time. Cpt. Wentworth is an angry man. He is angry that Anne (the heroine) rejected his proposal 8 years earlier. She rejected him because her family persuaded her throw over the poor Lieutenant. He is now rich, in the neighborhood, and flirting with her younger relatives. Personally after a few in your face moments that happened between Wentworth and Louisa Musgrove, I would pull him aside and tell him that he is making a jackass out of himself. And then I would drop the bomb that everyone expects he is ready to offer marriage for Louisa. I’m sure my story would not have the happy ending that Austen planned.
Being a Nora Roberts heroine might be fun. Her characters are always a little quirky, that’d be me. Her stories always involve some mystery or magic. And to have some lantern jaw sculpted muscle guy chasing after me might be entertaining and sexy. Of course I dunno how dear hubby would feel about that unless he was the hero and lantern jaw was the escaped felon/stalker that was after me. Never mind.
Okay if I was going to trade places with someone it would be Uhura in Star Trek the new version with Chris Pine & Zoe Saldana. She is a badass. She tells Jim Kirk where to go and is confident enough to boss around Mr. Spock in their relationship. Uhura has a talent for languages and gets to explore space. And she looks hot in the uniform!
Make it so….
|Have you ever been surfing? Describe the experience
I’ve never been surfing. I’m not a great swimmer and surfing requires at least a little water skill. Also I’ve never been coordinated so it didn’t seem like a good idea.
I did try windsurfing in Hawaii once. Even though it’s true I’m not grace personified, I thought with the sail to hang to and surfing in a protected bay I would be okay. Getting onto the board was the first challenge. Grabbing and gliding the sail was the next one. I felt like all of the Three Stooges on that board. When I finally got it all together, I sailed a short way before I hit the shore. Of course the “windward and mauka,” shower hit about then. Hawaii, especially in the summer, has a soft afternoon shower that hits and then dissipates. By then I had had enough.
But it’s good to be a writer because I can imagine what it must be like to surf. Even now, twenty years later, I still feel the Kailua sun on my face; feel the windward breezes playing with my hair. Clear blue water lapping around my legs as I climb onto my board. I can feel my stomach tightening as I search for the perfect wave. Here it is. I just need to grab it. The water is roaring around me and bumping my board. Fingers wet as they touch edge of the wave. Triumph overwhelms me as I ride the curl close to the shore. I have ridden the perfect wave only in my mind but somehow it does seem real.
|Prompt:Are you a sports fan? Tell us about fandom. If you’re not, tell us why not
This is not the story I meant to write but it is the story that came out of my pen. It is one that started rattling around my memory when I saw the words sports. Mr. Smythe is a configuration of many gentlemen I took care as a student before I graduated nursing school. As to the answer to question in the prompt, I already sorta did a few years ago in a post about my dad."Thoughts About My Dad"
It was that lovely time between supper and last rounds at the nursing home where I worked. Most of the residents were watching TV, getting ready for bed or already asleep. I was trying to cajole a pair of dentures from my elderly patient when the charge nurse stopped by with her med cart. She looked over the situation for a moment as said with a smile,
“Mr. Smythe doesn’t wear dentures.”
I looked at him in surprise. Mr. Smythe was always a little off, a little too in his own world. Though I wasn’t a new nursing assistant, this was the first time I helped him get ready for bed. Usually his granddaughter or his wife assisted him.
“But he kept trying to take his “dentures” out,” I said.
“I don’t know what game he playing with you but you might want to finish up. It’s getting late and the next round is starting,” she replied and then left.
Game playing! Surely not this frail old man who was murmuring softly to himself? Could he really be pulling my leg? Okay maybe so, as he took off his pajamas as soon as I helped him into them or pulled the linen up after I turned the bed down. I drew myself a breath and myself up into all of the inches of height I had and said firmly,
“Mr. Smythe, I have had enough! Please leave your PJs on and crawl into bed. I will call your wife so she can say goodnight to you and I will leave on the football game on TV. But Now is the time for bed.”
After that I had no more trouble. I even got him to brush his real teeth with minimal fuss. Mr. Smythe got to hear his wife say good night and the Chicago Bears trounce the opposition. As I smooth his blankets and tucked him in for the night, he turned at me in a rare moment of lucidity.
“You know, teasing a pretty student nurse is sometimes the only sport left to me.”
I saw sadness and unshed tears in his eyes before he resumed his murmuring.
I remember him with fondness, and I hope Mr. Smythe remembered me with kindness.
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|Happy 4th of July
Here is something to think about. This video seems just as true today as when it was made.
|If you could wake up tomorrow and find that one thing had changed about the world, what would you have that one thing be?
divisive:causing a lot of disagreement between people and causing them to separate into different groups
If I could wake up and the world would be different, I would like this spirit of divisiveness to be gone. Divisiveness says “I’m right. You’re wrong. And I’m not listening to you. Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, so there. It’s like we’ve all dug our heals into the dirt and will not move or help one another. And it’s not just the US, Great Britain, France, Italy, most of Europe, Australia all seem to suffering under divisiveness. Africa and India are suffering so much pain in so many places and in so many ways. What would happen if divisiveness left those areas?
I don’t want the world to be a happy happy joy joy Coca Cola commercial buy the world a drink kind of place. But I do think the bullies (News media), loud mouths (Talk Radio), and the people with the most money (Hollywood, Industrialists, etc.) are the ones who are heard and who spread this divisive spirit.
What would this world look like without divisiveness? Maybe the President and the Congress would see each other as people trying to do a job. Maybe they would see they are trying to do the same job instead of scoring points off each other. Turning on the TV, I would see a budget deal that everyone worked on and agreed to that was fair. How about pro-lifers meeting with pro-abortion groups to figure out some solutions as a sign that the spirit of divisiveness has left? CNN and Fox would read the news without slant. Talk radio would be competitive but not abusive or nasty.
Okay so maybe I do want a Coke commercial. I do know nothing will be perfect til Jesus comes. So maybe I should just limit my news and political intake this year. Sounds like a New Year’s Resolution I can keep.