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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/nannamom
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.
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April 12, 2024 at 4:14pm
April 12, 2024 at 4:14pm
#1068612
Why I Like Being On WDC
         I discovered this awesome site back in 2014. Wow, the years have flown by in a haze/daze of writing. I did not have an inkling as to what to expect. I had no expectations, or elusions. I signed up on the spur of the moment. And since then I have not regretted my choice.
         Here, I found other avid writers of like mind, or otherwise. Everyone wishes to write and most are happy to share their creations for me to read and/or review. Like wise, I enjoy receiving positive feedback in the form of reviews.
         I'm free to enter contests if I so choose and the ones I do enter offer unique prompts that cause me to think and stretch my writing muscles. Sometimes, a word or a phrase will trigger amusing memories. I like to believe I am preserving and highlighting family history.
         Before WDC, I had never attempted to blog. I had never so much as glanced at a blog. I discovered I like to blog and in that regard there are various blogging contests, challenges and activities. Again, they tend to be spontaneous bits of writing. I have surprised myself with my ability to conceive an idea, compose it and enter it in a twenty-four hour deadline.
         Two daily contests operate within that tight timeframe of twenty-four hours, The Writer's Cramp and Daily Flash Fiction. From start to finish, I am capable of submitting coherent, feasible projects. The prompts are often amusing, or educational.
         I have participated with several challenges and enjoyed their individual attractions. I completed a dive into Wonderland which required many, diverse creative entries on my part. Currently, I am a Got'er never having viewed a single episode of Game of Thrones. To say it is intense would be to utter a blase understatement. I have never written so many reviews ever! I like to read, so the torture is not too much. Again, I have responded to a wide variety of GoT prompts and they are fun to bring to life. I will not bend a knee! I plan to persevere.
         The Newsfeed is similar to Facebook in that it is a social outlet where WDCers may post and comment to anything therein. Many posts brighten my days. Who doesn't love a good laugh, or two?
         As I have stated and I am reiterating, I like it here at WDC! I have no plans to disappear just yet.
(411 words)
January 19, 2024 at 9:56am
January 19, 2024 at 9:56am
#1062653
Here are the two prompts for Week Three
         
Prompt # One: I hereby resolve to get a job.
         
Andre say's "Not Likely".

I hereby resolve to take better care of my teeth.

Andre pronounces teeth as teef.
         
         
Well, what can or should a monkey say about these prompts? As far as Andre is concerned he has a job and he is gainfully employed. Someone has to be the life of the never-ending party at the bar. He fancies himself as an influencer. Anybody who is anybody nowadays is an influencer.
         Andre only carouses with the finest locals. His drinks of choice become everyone's choice. Of course no one realizes he will down anything. Whatever happens to be within reach is good enough. Avant garde? Revolutionary? Trailblazer? Bold? Meh, Andre shrugs with the best.
          If he swings from the rafters he inspires fellow imbibers to do likewise. If he feels restless and hops from bar stool to bar stool he invents a new drinking game. The influenced refer to it as monkey business or Andre-ing. He is the ultimate party animal. Rowdy revelers shout, "What would Andre do?"
         Anything. Andre would do anything. Except take care of his 'teef.' He still has a few. Brushing and flossing are so tedious. He prefers to rinse with alcohol, flavored alcohol.There's nothing like a cold beer swish.
         So far, crack a few still refers to his preferred method of popping the beer cap with his teeth. Why search for a bottle opener?
         
January 10, 2024 at 3:39pm
January 10, 2024 at 3:39pm
#1062171
Week 2 Prompt 1: I hereby resolve NOT to make any New Year's Resolutions at all.
Andre's Fractured Resolutions
         
         
         
         
         To make or not to make
New Year's resolutions?
That is the question that haunts
every self-aware or unself-aware individual!

Apparently Andre has made and broke "I hereby resolve NOT to make any New Year's Resolutions at all." He is, of course, not going to admit he either made or broke this resolution. That's alright! If you're going to make a resolution, that you know you're going to break ten days into the New Year, it may as well be one that's easy to break.

If Andre did break this resolution, what type of resolution would he make that he knows he would break. How about, "I will NOT drink any more banana beer or I will not eat any more bananas." That sounds like a resolution that a monkey, like Andre, would make and break on the same day.
                   
         I resoluted, or is that resolved to make a unique New Year's resolution last year. I remember the perfect one came to me after a crazy night of partying. I'd just climbed up into a hammock to sleep away the cob webs and I tumbled out. It wasn't my first crash to the floor. It wasn't even my first accident. For some inexplicable reason I seem to stumble, trip, or hip-check anything firm enough to leave bruises.
         Sometimes I swear doorways narrow somehow just as I decide to squeeze through. Tables and chairs try to tackle me and knock me off balance. Walls and their adjoining corners attack without warning, especially my tender toes.
         I vowed to be more careful. Everyone says it to me. I've heard it directed to me so many times, so perhaps I should listen to the advice.
         So, I tried to pay attention to my surroundings and be more aware. I thought bundling myself in bubble wrap and strapping a helmet to my head might be rather drastic. So, yep, I decided to be more mindful. It couldn't hurt, right?
         I trained myself to stop and scout. I really tried to plot safe, smooth passage around furniture. I gave walls a wide berth and I held my breath slipping through doors. I became vigilant.
         I don't know if I relaxed and let down my guard, but fifteen days after January first I slipped, and skidded into a most solid wall. During the whirlwind slide I flung an arm through a window and bounced my chin off the window sill.
         Despite the best intentions, I broke my New Year's resolution. Obviously, I was not careful...enough.
January 10, 2024 at 3:01pm
January 10, 2024 at 3:01pm
#1062168
"Blogging Circle of Friends "

Day 3978: January 10, 2024.

Prompt: Houseplant Appreciation Day
         
         
         
On this blustery, snow whipped January day it is soothing to gaze upon my vibrant, thriving houseplants. They remind me that the winter season doesn't last forever. It just seems as if it lingers far too long. Sheltered from the freezing temperatures my plants and I are warm and comfortable. We are free to believe we are snug in a rainforest, a lush, green piece of heaven.
         No, there are no monkeys swinging from the branches or peeking around the stalks. I've yet to hear or spy a brilliantly coloured bird. I'm happy snakes have not decided to coil amongst the leaves. From somewhere the occasional spider appears and attempts to spin a gossamer web.
         I do appreciate the intricate craftmanship spun by spiders, I do. I don't appreciate where these creations are hung. The presence of a spider also unsettles me. They seem to skulk about. Creepy-crawly is an apt name . Nothing gets the ol' blood pumping like a black spider rappelling down from the ceiling and hovering over one of my shoulders.
         The sudden presence of a housefly is also puzzling. From where did it come? It is most definitely not a stealth insect. It buzzes and batters itself against a pane of glass. Is it instinct that compels the panicked fly to do this? Outside will not be the escape it anticipates.
          The Money Tree that my daughter gifted is intent upon living up to its name. When it first settled into my home it measured about six inches in height. Soon, it will surpass six feet tall. I've yet to see any sign of money.
         The bamboo that graces my kitchen table has sprouted this past year. I'd describe it as a bean pole, but that's an insult, correct?
         The four orchids seem content with their placement atop the coffee table. Every few months they reward me with lovely blooms of mauve, white and pink.
         The various succulents guarding a window ledge have agreed to thrive, but only if I remember they do not have much of a thirst. Two of them were stars at my youngest daughter's wedding almost eighteen months ago.
         I still have the prayer lily from my Mom's funeral nine years ago. Once in a while it produces a white bloom.
         If I could figure out how to stuff a greenhouse into my apartment I would. A home needs houseplants and I'd like to welcome more of them.
January 4, 2024 at 2:45pm
January 4, 2024 at 2:45pm
#1061871
Prompt Number Two:

Getting off your duff and taking action when something needs to be sold is often easier said than done, particularly when it's as big as a house.

I resolve to finally sell the house. Is Andre selling the bar, whos house is he selling? Is your Muse raising money? What's going on?
         
         
         
         
         
         
         
         
I've decided to sell the bar. It's time. I can feel the grass growing under my feet and I don't like the feel of it. I'd say it's annoying. And don't tell me to cut it, who has time for that messing about?
         No, I'm not seeking greener pastures. Why would I? Why trade this bar for a bigger field that requires more attention? I did mention I don't mow grass, right?
         Some of the bar patrons, or as I see it hangers-on, think all I do is sit and scratch myself. That's a fair observation, I do enjoy a good, thorough scratch, but now I have another itch to take care of. Are you itching to hear my plans?
         No, I don't have a plan, or a bucket list. This bar came about because of a whim. I needed somewhere to hang, let loose, party, whatever. Swinging from branch to branch in a steamy jungle gets old. I enjoyed the hijinks here. I never knew drunks er, alcohol aficionados loved almost anything with a banana. C'mon, get a life. I mean thanks. Running a bar into the ground has been a blast.
         Everyone expected me to be an animal and, well, I am. I'm a monkey after all. It's my nature to shriek, throw things and scurry about all willy-nilly. I have urges.
         I don't pretend to be a planner nor am I a pantser. I did try them once, pants that is. I never understood all that fuss about keeping your pants on.
         It's my pierogi, no, wait that's one of those dumpling'ish things. It's my pirouette. No! My brain is a bit scrambled although I'll admit I'm dancing about here. Aha, I've got it. It's my prerogative to try something new.
         I'm not sure if I'll need a bucket, or not. I'm not worried about a list. Writing gives me cramps and I don't have a pocket to keep one in. If I had a bucket I could create sand castles, or go crabbing. I've noticed a panhandler or two proffering a bucket to passersby. I could get lucky with that. I did mention I needed change.
( 415 words )
January 2, 2024 at 10:58am
January 2, 2024 at 10:58am
#1061749
         What would I gift to that cheeky fellow, er, um, monkey Andre? Something he wouldn't chuck? Doesn't he like to toss things, things that aren't necessarily round and favoured by most canines? Am I to muse upon an unthrowable object, something not aeronautically suited for flight, something awkward, yet somehow useful to an imbibing/partying creature of the bar?
         Oh, and the other criteria is that the gift not be a consumable? Whew, I had to reread that. At first, harried glance the word combustible exploded into my psyche. Of course I wouldn't dream of sending a bomb to Andre. If he reads this blog entry he may well determine it's a type of bomb, but, meh, so be it. Is it possible he could eat my words? If so I don't recommend that lamentable action.
         Okay, enough stalling and scrambling for a response. I suppose I would bestow a hammock upon this lucky monkey and not just any boring, everybody-has-one hammock. This hammock will be unforgettable. It shall be resplendent as a replica of the Canadian flag. That's right. It'll be red and white with a striking red maple leaf at its center.
         I should think Andre would hang this glorious hammock anywhere. Two trees are not always required although possible. String it from rafters, anybody's rafters. Permit it to swing from the bar, but be prepared to dispel inebriated squatters. Wait, can a hammock have a squatter? The point is this lounger could be strategically placed for maximum function and comfort. Andre will possess a new breezy method of laying about.
         Did I mention the cup/drink holder? Andre should not be forced to vacate his languishing in search of refreshments.
         I first thought of sending pure Canadian ice to Andre for his various bar concoctions, but ice doesn't lend itself to travelling via mail. Now if he could appreciate the brief, but refreshing splash of water he'd experience upon opening the 'ice box' and consider it a unique present...
         So, just to be clear, er, clearer. Andre please do not attempt to chuck or eat this hammock. Oh, and please do not remember me with a scowl or worst should or if you dismount/fall from the hammock unexpectedly. I may be admitting this has happened once or twice to me.
         
         
         
         
         Andre's Old2New Year Blogging Party

The future looms before us all - 02 January 2024 prompts

Who at Andre's Old2New Blogging Party stood out to you? Explain why based on their costume, their wit, their wisdom, their friendliness, and their blog entries and comments.

What gift would you give to Andre to remember you by and not just get quickly used and tossed? (IOW, not a consumable)
January 1, 2024 at 1:51pm
January 1, 2024 at 1:51pm
#1061702
         How did I celebrate the closure of one year and the entrance of another? Well, I didn't cavort or guzzle anything other than cups of tea which I paired with a plethora of delectable and tantalizing Christmas leftovers. Those cookies do entice me and to squelch their allure I banished some to the deep freeze. When I succumb to their sweetness in the new year and I accept I will the calories' inherent therein have to have been rendered non-existent or at least much less potent.
         My hubby is addicted to anything and everything Hallmark or soap-opera'ish. I doubt there could possibly be a tear-jerker Christmas-themed movie he hasn't seen, but, meh, anything's possible. I sat through several of them last night. I suppose I do appreciate the happy endings.
         Earlier in 2023 I fractured my right leg and endured a too long confinement of eleven weeks in a cast and reliant upon a wheelchair. Had I been engaged in a daring, reckless feat, perhaps an attempt to be athletic? Nope. I simply stepped out of my pick-up truck onto a patch of sand meant to mitigate icy misfortunes and I slipped. Nothing heroic. This was my first and I hope final non-weight bearing injury. The few occasions I deserted my apartment for medical appointments I had to bump down and then up the nineteen steps to my apartment. The words of my landlord echoed. "The stairs will keep you young."
         I lost count of how many times I ran over the toes of my left foot as I conducted daily and numerous three-point turns perched on an ornery chair atop wheels. That cantankerous torture device disliked my tiny home. I now have tremendous respect for people forced to rely upon this mode of transportation fulltime. It's not for the faint of heart.
         Anyway, I celebrate the return of function for one of my legs with daily strolls. I celebrate the freedom to come and go without restriction. Last evening I sauntered through the short main street of 'my' village inhaling crisp air and admiring the glowing Christmas light displays. Along the way I encountered a few fellow villagers and we exchanged Happy New Year greetings.
         Snug at home I oohed and aahed over a midnight fireworks display cascading outside my livingroom window. The brilliant bursts of colour punctuated the night sky as if to say this next year will be fantastic.
         Of course I exchanged internet messages/salutations with family and friends. I marvel at the many emojis and animated Gifs created for my use.
         In February of 2023 we welcomed a fourth grandgiggle. I am truly blessed. If this number holds I believe I'll be okay. Remembering four names and birth dates is not too burdensome.
         Today, January 1st, I am de-Christmasing. I'm reminded of the Whos in Whoville and the Grinch as I pull down and dismiss my decorations. While they are displayed they provide smiles and enhance memories, but I do not break out in song at the sight of them. For a few days I will miss their festive colours. All that red makes an impact. They shall be banished to storage bins to await another Christmas. Huh, this effort is similar to moving house. I must pack and unpack. I wish for yet one more year of no accidents and spills from the stacked storage containers. An avalanche would be disastrous.
         Do I subscribe to resolutions? In a word, no. The unexpected is a constant, good and bad. Welcome 2024, surprise me.
         
         
         
         
Day of Recovery - 01 January 2024 prompts

What did you do last night at Midnight WDC time? Your time zone may vary, such as New Zealanders having New Year Day supper (or whatever the evening meal is called there).

Do you have any New Years Day traditions? Detail as much as possible from time you get up to passing the day to evening activities and who is involved.

What's your thoughts on the enormous exapnsion of holiday lights and light polution and those lights using electricity made from fossil fuels?

How was the fireworks and firecracker noise around you residence last night and was it enjoyable or not?

If you're doing WDC's Fifth Sunday prompt, "Note: Fifth Sunday *BurstBL* Random Prompt! It&...", feel free to use it.
November 30, 2023 at 3:25pm
November 30, 2023 at 3:25pm
#1060340
Blogging Circle of Friends
DAY 3937 November 30, 2023
Congratulations, you did it.

The final prompt for the challenge is: What do these people have in common: George H.W. Bush, Evel Knievel, Zeppo Marx, Fernando Pessoa, and Oscar Wilde.? Pick one to discuss briefly in your entry today.
         
         
         What a wide range of figures to be honoured in our blogs, a politician, a motorcycle daredevil, an actor, a poet and a writer. What did these fine fellows have in common? They all died on November 30th.
          I recognize Evel Knievel an American stunt performer. Now I know his birth name was Robert Craig and the surname was an actual German-heritage one. I recall Evel broke numerous records and bones. He made a living jumping motorcycles over vast distances and objects such as lines of vehicles. Much of his infamy is due to his spectacular crashes and his survival of serious injuries. The Guinness World Book of Records lists Knievel as a survivor of "most bones broken in a lifetime." Imagine that as a legacy.
         My idea of a death-defying stunt is safely traversing the street or a set of stairs. While I have fractured bones I am not in Evel's league.
         Although his many stunts may appear to be reckless, Knievel was a proponent of motorcycle helmets. He acknowledged his use of one saved his life repeatedly.
         This showman believed in wearing a signature outfit, a leather jumpsuit and a cape. Over the years he appeared in various renditions of this garb, but the all-white jumpsuit is what I picture.
         My Nanny sewed an all -white jumpsuit with an attached red cape for my cousin Paulie. Until he out grew it he lived in it, winter and summer. Not that he jumped while driving a motorcycle, Paulie jumped from furniture or outdoor decks. I can see that red cape billowing behind his scrawny, blonde-headed body as he shouted, "Me Ebel Kniebel!"
         I don't know if Paulie himself ever made the connection, but many years later as an adult he obtained his motorcycle licence. This is where I should state that Paul has a form of autism and as such he cannot seem to comprehend cause and effect, or the vague notion of consequences. Anyway, Paul was driving along a divided two-lane highway one summer day and he noticed a fellow motorcyclist on the opposite side of the road. Instead of nodding at this driver Paul proceeded to wave at him with both hands. Yep, he was not steering his motorcycle at this point and he crashed. Thank goodness Paul wore a helmet. He did however fracture an arm much like his childhood hero Evel Knievel.
         Paul's damaged motorcycle languished in his parents' garage for years. He never had the funds to restore it and they refused to pay for its repair. I do wonder if at some point Paul would've attempted a very real Evel Knievel stunt if he continued to be a motorcyclist.
November 29, 2023 at 2:05pm
November 29, 2023 at 2:05pm
#1060290
Blogging Circle of Friends

Day 3936: November 29, 2023

Prompt: Blog about your greatest accomplishment for the month of November.
         
         What did I do in November? Well, I wrote a blog entry every day. In that blog I attempted to answer the prompt and remain on topic.
         I tackled the mundane. Somebody has to wrestle with the laundry and shop for sustenance. So, there's that, no one succumbed to starvation.
         I visited the youngest two grandgiggles. Many Christmas-themed crafts were created. Just yesterday I noticed the red marker stain has vanished from my left hand. I believe the lingering glitter has finally vacated my person. I had a glow about me. In time the glue gun burns will heal. I still have my fingerprints.
          I caught a cold. What a ridiculous statement, eh? It's not as if I chased it down, cornered and subdued it. It's not as if I wanted a cold. My chapped, washed-too-often hands are proof my resistance proved futile.
         The exorcism is ongoing. Repeatedly, I dispel the cold germs into tissues which I wad up and toss. Sudden explosive sneezes have so far failed to frighten off the invader. I've not detected so much as a flinch when I brandish Vick's Vaporub. Drowning the cold in copious fluids has not helped. I resort to waiting out the invasion. Perhaps if I do succeed in coughing up a lung, the cold will accept my sacrifice and move on.
November 28, 2023 at 11:16am
November 28, 2023 at 11:16am
#1060253
Blogging Circle of Friends

Day 3935: November 28, 2023

Prompt: What are your goals for December.
         
         
         
         I have not scrawled a to-do list for December. Yes, I'm aware that it is fast approaching. At the moment I've stalled. I'm wallowing in the throes of a head cold. The pounding headache is distracting. My sinuses feel bloated and ready to burst. I feel blah.
         This too shall pass. This serves as a reminder that I'm only human and subject to the forces, the vagaries, the annoyances of marauding germs.
         Since December is but a few days away my goal is to ditch this cold and avoid any other illnesses. To that end I should write a letter to Santa requesting a 'bug zapper.' The kind of blaster that neutralizes pesky germs.

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