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 |   My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! |
| My coworkers and I had a virtual happy hour today where we all just chatted and played "Never have I ever" It was great to feel the connection between everyone, even though we're physically distanced. How are you trying to stay socially close to others while #SaferAtHome and physically quarantined? Today is April 2nd, and I've been self-isolated since March 15th. For nine days before that I stayed in rural Quebec never leaving the house. My forays into the outside world consist of grocery shopping and visits to the laundromat which I curtail to one day per week. I nod and say hello from a distance. I haven't resorted to running to a window and banging on it to gain someone's attention. I also have not opened a window and hung out it to better see a favourite someone and shout a greeting to them. I'm definitely socially-distanced 'cause I reside on the second floor and no one could reach me unless they are willing to climb nineteen steps. I doubt anyone would notice me half in and half out a window shrieking like a mad woman. I'm not eager to risk a less than graceful fall either. Thank the universe and some clever inventors for the internet! Daily, I share private letters, jokes, videos, and photos via a wonderful application known as Messenger. No dial up connection, no pony express, no courier, no carrier pigeon, no flares, and no postal worker required. We instantly converse and natter away. Pretty well everyone I know and care to keep in touch with has a cell phone, so we have the option of speaking, or texting each other. Most of my family and friends live at a geographical distance and we appreciate having an internet connection. Of course, we do not share private matters there, but we also communicate via Facebook. We try to avoid the ridiculous drama that may be present. We like the shared humour. I still appreciate good ol' snail mail and actual hold-in-my-hands letters. If I wish a quicker response, I send my news via e-mail. Company is just one of these methods away, so I'm not totally isolated. If I crave a living, breathing, in the flesh person to converse with I hang around the nearby post office. Sooner or later someone arrives to pick up their mail and I can strike up a conversation. Hopefully, I don't choose a person with hearing difficulties. |
| PROMPT March 30th Congratulations on making it to the last day of the competition! What was your favorite prompt from the last month? What was the most rewarding aspect of participating in the competition? It's the end of March already? Where has the time gone? I had a sense of shifting, changing. From my window perch, I noticed snow melting. The time change spring ahead 'thing' has brought longer periods of light, less gloom. Pick a favourite prompt from this month, eh? Yes, I know we read all about it in the constant barrage of news, but I rather liked the prompt dealing with COVID-19. We're all dealing with it and it is the elephant in the room, every room now. It permitted us to vent in a manner that doesn't involve us throwing objects. It assures us that we're very much alive, frustrated, yet alive and coping. I also liked the prompt asking about how we dealt with rain. This is probably because I like the sounds of rain and we tend to shelter in place for it. The prompt that offered us a set of random words intrigued me. Here, make of this what you will. Weave this combination into something that is cohesive. This round of 30 DBC co-existed with that darn virus and a time of self-isolation. Is this a new version of March Madness? Let's prolong cabin fever after the trials of winter. While seated on my computer chair, I travelled great distances. No restrictions, no baggage, and no virus busting protocols. It provided me with a daily activity, a challenge, a nudge to write. It also offered me a variety of reading material to peruse. I could both send out and receive comments, initiate on-line conversation. My fellow bloggers and I validate each other. We are a community. |
| PROMPT March 29th Do you write like you talk? Blogging is inherently personal and therefore leaves a lot of room for your unique voice. How do you show your reader your personality through your writing? Hmmm, do I blog like I speak? Yes, I believe I do. As I compose my responses I pretend I'm conversing with some one, every one, other writers. At least that's what I tell myself when I try to intervene and question myself. Not all conversations are with me, myself, and I. I'm a temporarily self-isolated writer, not a crazy one! I like humour and I treasure a good laugh. I attempt to share that with my writing. No one can witness this, but I speak quickly, animatedly, and loudly. Sigh, I am admonished to shush, can you believe it? No I'm not Italian, but sometimes I gesture wildly and point and wave. I wouldn't say I'm excitable, I'm enthusiastic. Okay, at times I'm long-winded, too. I write of the everyday things, the vignettes, the foibles and faux pas. I seek to strike a common chord. Language and communication fascinate me, so I recreate dialogue. What people say and how they express themselves attract my attention. I ask questions. I like to use the exclamation point! |
| PROMPT March 28th Write about something positive. What is something good that’s happened in your world recently? Share a smile, share a laugh, share a success. I tried to copy and paste a comic from Facebook, but, poof, it's floating out in the nether space of the vast internet now. So.... I shall endeavour to describe it. Picture a cat smiling proudly and sitting at a table next to a book titled' Fake It 'til You Make It.' Yes, this feline is at a book signing. Other cats are waiting in a line before the table. One says to the other, "I hear he started out just walking across a keyboard." Ta-da-boom, ( a drum crash ). Isn't that what we do here at WDC? No, I'm not insinuating that anyone is fake. I'm merely saying that we write over and over, always searching for the magic blend of words. We do not give up, or throw in the towel. We 'walk' across our keyboards when we respond to these prompts. Like with any sauntering, we discover things. This past week, I crossed the finish line of The Wonderland Challenge. A series of prompts directed me to compose poetry, short stories, and blogs based upon 'The Alice in Wonderland' books. I loved this journey! Initially, it felt like falling down a rabbit hole. I twisted and turned in the dark trying to make sense of my predicament. I learned that my imagination likes to be unleashed to cavort freely. This is one of my blog posts from that pursuit. "On the Same Team"  I proffer it to the rabid sports' fans unable to view and rant at any new games/matches/events at the moment. |
| PROMPT March 27th Someone shared the poem “The Trough” by Judy Brown with me today and I want to pass it on to you. I found it incredibly comforting during this time of global crisis. In your entry today, write about how the poem makes you feel, or write a poem of your own. The Trough Judy Brown There is a trough in waves, a low spot where horizon disappears and only sky and water are our company. And there we lose our way unless we rest, knowing the wave will bring us to its crest again. There we may drown if we let fear hold us in its grip and shake us side to side, and leave us flailing, torn, disoriented. But if we rest there in the trough, in silence, being in the low part of the wave, keeping our energy and noticing the shape of things, the flow, then time alone will bring us to another place where we can see horizon, see land again, regain our sense of where we are, and where we need to swim. This is indeed a comforting prompt. It reminds me of Dory in the animated movie 'Finding Nemo'. Her motto is keep on swimming. Become one with the wave, do not fight it. The wave can and will carry you. Trust that "things" will return to normal. Ride out the fear. Here is a COVID-19 related poem I composed. Social distancing's a new trend in answer to a bug, COVID-19, viral stalker. No to kiss, handshake, hug. Self-isolate, stay strong, be calm. This blight is not so smug. |
| PROMPT March 26th Fill in the blanks in this sentence and expand on it in your entry: I think people spend too much time ________ when they could be _________. I think people spend too much time worrying when they could be daydreaming. I'm presuming that too much means an exorbitant amount of time. People, most people, are over-achievers. They have the mind-set that more is always better. Go big, or go home. They are like this with worrying, fretting, "oh mying." Too many believe in the worst case scenario, a doomsday. There's a great deal we cannot ever control, the weather, natural disasters, the stock market, people's opinions, people's reactions, and a virus dubbed COVID-19. Bad things happen, yes, but so do good things, wonderful things, fantastic things. Think of the amount of energy worriers burn. They devote too much to the what-ifs. They can be stuck envisioning the terrible and totally be oblivious to the everyday wonder all around them. Daydreaming is a form of relaxing and letting go. Permit the mind to wander unfettered. Consider possibilities. Indulge in some positive imaginings. |
| PROMPT March 25th I need your help to fill the Challenge War Chest! In your entry today, write at least three prompts you’d like to see used in future rounds of the 30DBC. Then, choose one of your own (or one from someone else if you aren’t the first to post) to write your entry on. Prompter prompts? Hmmm.... How about: 1. What is Spring like in your neck of the woods? Does it exist? 2.If you were a giant, what things would/could you do? 3.What resonates as your best/favourite vacation? Okay, the self-initiated prompt I pull out of my itchy toque is the one about Spring. People report on the news that this elusive season has appeared in some areas. I'm not certain that there is a Spring where I choose to reside. We definitely experience two seasons, winter and road construction. When it's not blizzarding the roads are demanding their beauty treatments; a little asphalt dabbed here and a guard rail replaced there. Orange is meant to be a warning colour indicating armed hunters roaming about, but it also marks road work sites. Usually, as soon as the snow melts, stretches of highway support gazillions of those pointy orange and white-striped cones that resemble the cat in the hat's hat. So far, the newly-hatched pot holes have not been closed. Those odd-looking cones must still be hibernating. I do espy 'snirt' when I'm out and about. That's the ugly blend of snow and dirt. I will admit the snow banks have shrunk and they don't seem as ominous. Yes, okay, a few patches of scrawny brown/green stuff that might be sun-starved grass are pushing aside their smothering blankets of white. I've yet to notice active roofers, or gardeners. The locals still wear toques. Some still swathe themselves in woolen scarves. The vehicles still travel around on snow tires. Shovels are still propped next to doorways. If it were to warm up a degree or two, the insects would take that as an invitation. If there is a Spring, it exists for a micro-second between winter and summer. For a brief moment, we're neither too hot, or too cold. |
| March 24th PROMPT: Start your blog with these words: "Five years from now..." Five years from now will be five years into the future. This is a fair stretch of time. Five times 365 days. Five times 12 months. That's a lot of cookies and tea. That's a gazillion words I've rearranged and shaped into stories. Oh, there's bound to be zillions of conversations to remember and far more laughter to rejoice in. My youngest grandgiggle will be a veteran of school. She'll be chattering nonstop in both of our official languages, English and French. There may exist a younger sibling for her to boss around. My eldest grandgiggle will be knee deep in her career and loving it. Her younger sister will be a high school graduate struggling to stay positive about college. Both of them will have broken the family tradition of being young mothers. My hubby will be considering retirement. Strange, but he'll give up long haul trucking to traverse North America in a motorhome. Of course, I'll accompany him, but only after I seriously downsize. He will have made it clear that not all of my plants and my books may travel with us. The tables are turned, and one of my children will be storing my possessions in their basement. Perhaps in the off season, we'll park our behemoth and reside in someone's cellar. Five years from now, my journals, idea notebooks, and folders of my writing will be comfortably ensconced in their own private room. Oh, the pens I will have drained of ink by then. The COVID-19 will be a bitter memory. Every year further on from its pandemic, we breathe a little easier, we relax a wee bit more, and we continue to enjoy life. Five more precious years of memories sustain us. |
| March 23rd PROMPT: What is the best way to spend a rainy afternoon? My first instinctive response would be to stay home and hunker down with a good book or two. Ignore the rain. You cannot prevent it anyway. Why would you want to be soaking wet? Stay dry and comfortable reclined on a couch, or that special piece of furniture, the recliner. Lose yourself in a developing plot line. Search for the bad guy / woman. Curse their nefarious actions. Scale soaring mountains, or race through crowded city streets. Applaud the heroic efforts of the good guy / woman. Savour the described scenery. Puzzle over cryptic clues. Bake something, anything. May I recommend cookies. They are a bit more labour-intensive and the reward is in indulging. Tea pairs well with them. I suppose my ideal rainy day could be described as nesting. Stay put and practise domesticity. I have not always followed my own advice. One time, hubby and moi, son and daughter-in-law, youngest daughter, plus two grand giggles visited a zoo during a summer rainstorm. Let me emphasize the rainfall. We did not experience a sprinkle, but a down pour. Some may have been inclined to say a deluge, or a monsoon. At any rate, we were soaked and squishy. Our flip-flops squeaked. My son admonished his daughters to stay out of the puddles. This proved impossible. Puddles lurked everywhere. Walking created splashes. Water dripped down our faces. Our clothing clung to us. We were beyond damp. We chose not to hurry our tour. We meandered. We oohed and awed. Surprisingly, we did not battle crowds as we strolled and stared. The zoo inhabitants seemed to revel in the rain. Birds spread their feathers as if showering, all while squawking, whistling, trilling, and singing. Lemurs swung through branches playing tag. Hippos wallowed in the mud. Big cats rolled in the fresh mud. Deer and bison stomped and stretched. Perhaps they enjoyed the water and viewed it as a respite from the humidity. Have I mentioned the sounds of rain? It plips, plops, drips, splorks, drums, pit-a-pats, plunks, , splats, and more. It's sad to say, but I believe I'm past my puddle-stomping days. Those glory days when the whole idea was to test the depth of a puddle with your boots no longer exist. No more squelching muck for me. |
| PROMPT March 22nd Write a letter to your younger self. Tell them about something or someone they should be wary of as they move through life and about a specific event they should look forward to. Dear Me, Haha, this sounds like something I mumble over and over when something terrible has happened and I can't find the words to express myself. Oh , dear me... Ridiculously, I did this in the aftermath of a collision with a deer. Yes, a deer. Why this combination of words? They are so banal. Dear Younger Self, There that's better. Hmmm, who or what should I warn you about? Life has been great so far with highs and lows, but mostly highs. I'm not the worst for any of it. I'm not a complainer, or a 'regretter'. I cherish my relationships, the closeness, and the laughter. Always remember to laugh, humour is everywhere. Well, perhaps there is something that I ought to prepare you for, something that may have been better handled. Your knees are gonna fail you, give up, cause many accidents and injuries, and cause you no end of grief. Please be more proactive seeking treatments and solutions. Push for answers. Try the physiotherapy in your youth and stick with it. Campaign for timely medical intervention. Too many times, you've sat on the sidelines. Too many times, you've limited your activities. Believe me, constant pain is not a companion you seek. Now, the good news is that those troublesome knees didn't prevent you from becoming a mother, three times, and a grandmother, also three times. These births will be the highlights of your life. You will rediscover awe and wonder. These family members will bring so much love and joy into your existence. As a bonus, they will provide you with an unending supply of writing material. This is important! Never stop writing. You will discover stories all around you. I recommend people-watching for inspiration. Hugs, Sandy B. |
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