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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! 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 25th Prompt: Write about the most exciting, odd, or valuable thing you've found on the ground or abandoned on the side of the road. Invent a story about where the object came from and who owned it before you found it. "Dang Darren. What's that wobblin' up there on top of your bald head?" "Oh this? Ya know that ditch on over by Wilson's Woods? I found this discarded brain just alyin' there. I picked it up, gave it a spit and polish, and plunked it atop ma melon." "A brain? Cool beans! Whatcha gonna do with it? Do ya think it's worth somethin'?" "I dunno, it's the first brain I ever seen. It looks hardly used. Who woulda tossed out a perfectly good brain? Remember the two batteries we threw in your truck? Mebbe I can have extra spark." "Oooo,it's kinda squishy. Did ya feel that poke? Are ya mind meldin' like them Star Trek freaks?" "Noooo, I felt nothin'. Wait, wait, that aint right." "Darnit Darren, you're rubbin' up agin that tree pretty dang hard. Your back man, it's scratched up real good. Now whatcha doin'? Where'd ya learn to skedaddle up a trunk like that? I dunno, man. I wouldn't swat at that bee hive if'n I was you. Them bees sound pissed." "Eeeyaaa!! Whooee, now that's a thumpin'. Who said somethin' about bein' out on a limb? I aint never had a hunkerin' fer honey before. Hey, ouch!" "Drop an' roll Darren! No, don't flap. Them bees are buzzin' mad. Roll buddy, roll. That's it, git in that water. Bees can't swim, right?" |
| May 24th Prompt: Write about a movie or t.v. show you watched recently that blew you away. What lessons can you learn from the show and incorporate into your own writing? Hmmm... I've not been viewing much lately. When I do watch something I do not do so to critique the writing, the presentation, the character arcs, the storyline, or whatever. Often, I am just killing time and craving a bit of entertainment. I don't consider the how. I do remember an Australian movie that I would never have chosen to view based upon its title. It had an innocuous title, The Dressmaker. Never would I watch anything I assumed would, or could be about a seamstress, or a tailor. Sewing doesn't pique my curiosity. Meh, someone is making a dress, or two? So, they cut material and join it together with thread? Netflix teased me with a hint of a synopsis and a brief action clip. I took the plunge. Am I happy that I did this? In a word, yes. This gem of a movie is about far more than a person who creates clothing. The script delves into labels and misconceptions that dog a person's life. Redemption is showcased as a meal best served cold. Is vengeance possible ? Is it attainable in a life well-lived? The dressmaker of the movie returns as an adult to her hometown and she brings her considerable skill and flair. She carries a haunting repressed memory that the townspeople have not forgiven. As a child she was blamed for an unfortunate death. Despite her accomplishments she cannot escape the crushing condemnation that mars her return. I shall not mention more 'cause that would reveal the entire plot and the dramatic ending. I suppose it's the brilliant characterizations that remain vivid. Every person in this tale has their own back story and a tale that describes their relationship with each other. In other words, everyone is flawed. No one has the right to judge the dressmaker, but they do so anyway. Their judgements unite them as they shun the young woman who has dared to show her face again. They soon make it clear that they cannot forget the child she was, or the lies that they have perpetuated. All the players are lifelike and far from flat. They are uncompromisingly complex. What did I learn? Characters in a story are so much more than their physical descriptors. Their psychological profiles drive their actions and determine the plot. |
| May 23rd Prompt: Write abour nicknames. What nicknames do you have for people in your life? What nicknames do others use to refer to you? Do any of these names have an interesting story for how they came to be? Ah, nicknames. I'm the eldest of four. My brother is closest to me in age and he loved to refer to me as "Ug" short for Ugly. With three sisters perhaps he needed to label us. Who knows. He and I bestowed a nickname upon our youngest sister. Christened with a name our Nanny considered controversial, Sherry didn't stand a chance. I still laugh at Nan's response. "No granddaughter of mine is going to be named after a liquor." Not that we agreed, or cared. We decided Sherry should be 'Ralph'. Our reasoning remains a little fuzzy. In our defence, she did sorta resemble a boy with her short blonde hair and had she only been another boy we would've been a family with two of each. I believe we considered Ralph to be the worst boy's name, one not assigned to anyone we knew. We liked the outrageousness of a female sibling named Ralph. Yes, we realized that 'ralph' is slang for vomit, but that didn't figure in our choice. Once we used it, it stuck. One day Ralph met a young man dubbed Nobby by his siblings. He in turn introduced his sisters as Tweet and Head. Our baby sister had been accepted by people who appreciated nicknames. The official wedding licence lists their names as Sherry and Terry. Weird, they had rhyming monikers. Did I mention my father's name is Jerry? This lovely couple created a daughter whom they nicknamed "Bumpies.' As an infant she never did crawl. She bumped along on her butt. Frequently, she struck her little head and erupted in bumps as evidence. Other than with my 'Ralph', I've never been keen on nicknames. Sure,I'll admit I played around with my kids names. My eldest is Carrie. I assumed I'd chosen her named because one, I liked it, and, two, it had been my great-grandmother's name. As she progressed to the walking and talking stage, I wondered if I had been intuitively aware of her non-stop energy. I joked she 'carried on' and later I referenced the British Carry-On comedies.Her brother named her 'Rie Rie.' All the relatives adopted this. My mother-in-law insisted upon calling my son 'Chrissy' and I hated this. It sounded girly to me and he had the perfect name already, Christopher. Although he wanted his big sis to be 'Rie Rie', at the age of twenty-one months he pronounced his newborn sister's name correctly as Danielle. When they were in elementary school, I taught my three a bit of French. Danielle loved being Mademoiselle Danielle Rachel(le) Mozzarella. During her teenage years, Mademoiselle knew that her father's shop employee's had a nickname they'd secretly given her. She had a habit of speaking her mind and appearing to be assertive. The guys would witness her striding into the garage and demanding things. She expected her father to address her needs as soon as possible. Because of this she became known as 'Mimi', or more like 'Me Me.' Mimi and Rie Rie tease their only brother by calling him 'Chris Crash.' He does have a reputation as an accident magnet and currently is winning in the most-ambulance- rides and most stitches / fractures categories. The word crash is familiar. Those shop employees I mentioned thought it funny to refer to me as 'crash test dummy.' While they toiled in a vehicle restoration business they did not get to know me because I brought them what I dubbed the 'make work projects.' In other words, no, I did not crash my car...often. I too weathered more than my fair share of accidents in which I experienced falls. They suggested I seek employment as a crash test dummy and at least get paid for my incidents. From time to time, I meet a child who makes the connection between my name and a common substance they recognize. More than once I've heard, "Do you know your name could be Sandy Beach?" A few have laughed and laughed as they tell me the following. "What do you call a lion in the desert? Sandy Claws!" Now my hubby, Paul, remembers attempts by kids to bestow a nickname upon him and his unenthusiastic response. He did not find it funny to be called 'Pollywog.' His reaction involved a scuffle, or what some may say is fisticuffs. As a competitive figure skater he was known as 'Bugsy.' This derived from the first car he owned, a VW Bug. His more enduring nickname is 'Bondo' a compound used to patch vehicle bodies. For many years, he worked in the automotive trade. It could just as well have been 'Dusty', or 'Primer', or 'Patch.' I think a fun nickname would've been 'Weld-o' somewhat like Waldo." Where's Weld-o? Oh, look, he's the one sparking and smoking over there behind the Cadillac." The numerous burn holes in his clothing attested to his welding proclivities. |
| May 22nd Prompt: Write about the biggest challenge you have faced and how you overcame it. Have I ever experienced adversity? Yes. Has it proved to be all-consuming and insurmountable? No. Challenges come and go. Some intersect and some seem to wait for their turn to be front and centre. None of them hang around forever. Each one has monopolized my time, my attention, my effort. I've learned the "this too shall pass" philosophy. Have I developed a thick skin, callouses, or erected some kind of shield? I don't believe I have. I cannot conjure a 'biggest challenge' to write about. So far in my existence I've not experienced a problem that caused me to curl up and admit defeat. Day by day I place one foot in front of the other and carry on. Ack, this sounds bleak. I am blessed to have many reasons to continue living. Family and friends, hobbies and curiosity keep me interested. Engaging in relationships can be an intriguing challenge, but the investment pays off in spades. There's always one more engrossing book to read, one more scrumptious cookie to eat, one more perfect cup of tea to sip, one more heartfelt hug to dispense, one more chin wag to enjoy, one more shimmering sunset to marvel at, one more sparkling snowfall to enthrall, and one more tear-inducing stomach-cramping , gasping laugh to share. |
| May 21st Prompt: Write an open letter to a person or group of people you strongly disagree with and explain why. Use reason not emotion. Dear Creator and Overseer of Facebook, First let me begin by stating that I am a Facebooker. That means I use your app and enjoy sharing with my friends and family. I anticipate viewing the myriad of photos that are posted begging comment. I discover random rants and varying levels of conversation that intrigue, entertain and baffle me. Now I know what a meme is. Crazy, huh? The Facebook content never fails to amuse me. BUT,,, yes, I have a but, a dislike, a difference of opinion. Why are there advertisements insinuating themselves into my newsfeed? I do not consider ads to be news. I do not particularly like ads either. They are annoying enough to be sprinkled willy-nilly amongst any of my online forays and I do my best to ignore, if not outright shun them, but why on earth did you consider them important enough to insert them amongst my stream of photos and updates? Yes, ads have always 'framed' the Facebook page and they floated in my peripheral vision. I never understood their necessity. I ask again, why are they now infiltrating my newsfeed and intruding upon the user posts? I never agreed to this. I was never consulted. They are not user driven. The ads are not proposed , or shared by my fellow Facebookers. Where do you get off 'suggesting' ads for me? This is presumptuous. I do not want any ads littering my newsfeed. Over and over I attempt to discard these unwanted ads by requesting you 'hide' them. When I do this I am asked why? Do people actually enjoy these ads? I opt to answer that the ads are 'irrelevant.'Thay's what they are, irrelevant. And another thing, have you been spying upon me? Do you follow every thing I do? How else did you determine the ads that you presumed I would find interesting, or irresistible? My mind is boggled. Where did I ever indicate that I was wishing to purchase a new vehicle and also so many makes amd models? Why throw international travel options my way? I am not a drinker, yet you assume I have an overpowering thirst for beer and alcohol. What I am getting at is you do not know me at all. Stop the onslaught of ads! Irked and Ignored |
| May 20th Prompt: What does happiness mean to you? Reflect back on a specific moment when you felt unconditionally happy.What circumstances made you feel that way? It may sound corny, but happiness stems from the simple things. A spontaneous gabfest with a passerby while out on a gambol in the sunshine is happiness. A spectacular sunset that illuminates the evening sky is happiness. Cuddles with a grandgiggle are happiness. Holding hands with my hubby despite decades of marriage is happiness. Discovering a delicious new ice cream flavour is happiness. Watching children run and play is happiness. Laughter be it a guffaw, or a snort, or a chortle, or a giggle, or a tee-hee is happiness. Reconnecting with an old friend and sharing familiar stories is happiness. Finishing a book and coming up for air is happiness. Stringing a series of words together to create something memorable is happiness. Capturing a once-in-a-lifetime photo to preserve a magical moment is happiness. I consider myself fortunate to have a plethora of happy memories to reflect upon. Were a few better than others? Do a few of those moments never fail to make me smile? It goes without saying that my wedding qualifies as such a happy day. I remember the enormous family reunion that accompanied it. When I close my eyes I see everyone dancing, hugging, laughing, and talking non-stop. My father wore my veil as he partied and schmoozed. Friends and family mingled for hours. The births of my children and grandgiggles were heart-swelling moments in time. I reacted with tears and a grin that never faded. Birthday parties are excuses to get together and reminisce. Sure, we all celebrate, but when in close proximity the merriment is contagious. We all speak to, around and over each other in our eagerness to be a vital part of the conversation. Some may accurately claim we are loud. I prefer boisterous. We never are at a loss for laughter either. If one of us spits out a mouthful , or snorts then the instigator is successful. All of this makes me happy. |
| May 19th Prompt:Write about the most historic world events of your lifetime. How are they ( or will they be) remembered? What will the history books focus on? I remember the day my Mom phoned me and asked if I was watching the news. I had to answer no and she urged me to turn on my television. Neither of us could comprehend what we were viewing. Nothing had prepared us or anyone for the horrors of 9/11. We could only gasp as the live feed continued. From the security of our Canadian homes, we viewed the worst attacks known to Americans. The devastation could not be denied. That day will always be unforgettable. If that is the criteria for history then it qualifies.As a proud Canadian, I consider the Marathon of Hope to be a historical event. This was meant to be a cross country run for its creator / runner Terry Fox. Raised in British Columbia and considered to be an avid athlete, Terry experienced the devastating effects of cancer. His right leg was amputated and he endured various treatments. After his recovery, he discovered competitive wheelchair basketball. He had always been a runner and he returned to it with an artificial leg. The cancer opened his eyes to the emotional and monetary toll of cancer. He sought an avenue to both promote awareness and encourage donations for research. He decided to run across Canada and he began his odyssey on the east coast in Newfoundland. Every day, he managed to run with a unique gait, a hop-step motion. Despite pain and all the stressors that accompany such an ambitious venture, Terry never wavered. Day by day he attracted attention and support. People chose to run short distances with him. Some began to anticipate his arrival and line the roads he ran on to cheer. His tenacity earned unprecedented contributions to the Cancer Society. The organization arranged meet and greets along his route. He attended special events. Terry became a media darling, but devoted to his cause. Reaching Thunder Bay, Ontario, Terry had to stop and listen to his spent body. Tests confirmed his cancer had returned this time as lung cancer. He flew back home to undergo treatment vowing he'd finish his run. He started his marathon April 12th, 1981 and ended it in November. He covered 5,373 kilometres in 143 days. Sadly, Terry succumbed to cancer June 28th, 1981 a month before his twenty-third birthday. Terry's determination and grit proved that anyone could dream a goal and battle to realize it. He did not consider himself to be physically handicapped. He left behind an enduring legacy. His family introduced the first Terry Fox memorial run in September of 1981. That run is now a staple of each September with schoolchildren amongst others participating. The run in his memory continues to raise money for cancer research. What other Canadian event do I remember? Our iconic red maple leaf flew for the first time as our offical flag in February 1965. Before that time, Canada borrowed the U.K.'s Union Jack. Thanks to the world's first commercial domestic communication satellite sent into orbit by the Canadian government in 1972, Canadians experienced reliable long distance phone services and live t.v. broadcasts. That was an historic first. This is a huge country. This seminal satellite was known as AnikA1 with 'anik' being Inukitiut for 'little brother.' AnikA2 was launched in 1973. This was the precursor to our current level of computer access. Canada has advanced well beyond its origin as a fur-trading entity. |
| May 18th prompt: What is the most ridiculous or one-of-a-kind thing you've ever bought? Tell us the story! I will admit to a certain fashion faux-pas, or a momentary lack of taste in my teenage years. First, let me paint you a picture, and, yes, colour pics existed way back then and colour is important to this tale of woe. I'm not bragging, but at that time in my life I could be accurately described as a bean pole, lanky and thin. When I look back upon this blemish I shudder. What was I thinking? Some outfits only accentuate the awkwardness of a sad figure such as myself. I've lamented my regrettable choice, but in my defence this was once a fad and like all fads it had no hope of enduring. Tucked away in a photo album irrefutable proof exists. The camera caught me garbed in a woollen jumpsuit, yes, that's correct, a jumpsuit. Nowadays, the avant garde opt to wear what they call onesies. Meh, these garments are similar. Now the one-piece wardrobe wonder was accessed by a long zipper. Oh, did I mention the flared pant legs? Ooo, I was styling...not. And the piece de resistance... my jumpsuit could not be missed unless I scurried within range of a bona fide blind person. As I warned, colour plays an emphatic place in this story. Ack, my jumpsuit was yellow, not buttercup, not daffodil, not goldenrod. It was a hideous shade of mustard. It defies all rationality, but I ventured out in public in this mustard yellow jumpsuit, and I was not alone. The boy next door had invited me out for a date. I'm sure he never lost sight of me. Sometimes, I struggle with the sizing of items. My family will never let me forget the new canvas, aluminum-framed lawnchairs I purchased for our seasonal campsite a few years ago. I'd hyped up the arrival of the foldable furniture and promised the visiting offspring superior posterior reclining. They anticipated unparalelled luxury and a chance to toss tired, worn seats. I chose an evening campfire to introduce my purchases to my family. With a flourish, I waved the canvas, drawstring bags in the air. Bursts of laughter greeted me. "Mom! Look at that cute, teeny-tiny bag. Are you sure there are chairs in there?" With glee the bags were pulled open and their contents exposed. Two tiny chairs appeared and my adult kids dutifully tried to park their derrieres. They suggested I save the doll furniture for drunken games of musical chairs.One person could manage to squeeze herself into a petit chaise, my barely five-foot tall daughter-in-law. Okay, okay, visual point taken. I'd made a mistake. I'd adopted chairs meant for toddlers. Now that I've mentioned my DIL,I will share some fun she and I had. Returning from a road trip in which she tried on her wedding dress, we stopped at a candy store we'd always wanted to visit. Together we giggled over the many suggestive packaging choices.Our unanimous purchase qualifies as unique. We bought a tinful of white mints labeled as Pecker Mints, the perfect sweet treat for a bridal shower. Yep, they were tiny, perfect penises. Imagine that this candy mold exists. I still chuckle remembering her shocked smile. |
| May 17th Prompt:"Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known." Chuck Palahniuk Share your thoughts about how the people in your life have had an impact on you. Ooo, this is like me appearing on a stage awaiting my acceptance of an award and charming everyone with my speech of gratitude. I'd like to thank all the fantastic individuals who contributed to the person you see here today. You know who you are. Without your support I don't know where I'd be. Mere words cannot convey what you mean to me. I am blessed. Where do I begin? First I'd like to mention my parents who deigned to both conceive me and then keep me in a manner to which I became accustomed. Not only did they accept the usual parental duties of feeding and housing me, they chose to nurture me. They did not ignore me. They listened. They engaged in conversations with me. They cheered me on. They taught by example and rarely told me ' do as we say not as we do.' Both my Mom and my Dad were avid readers and their behaviour did not go unnoticed by me. I imitated this habit and discovered why they did it. They learned. They were entertained. They could and did enjoy books anywhere at any time.Sitting in any chair, they could 'travel' and teleport inexpensively. Books were and still are affordable and accessible. I could be considered the experimental model. Not that my parents bemoaned my birth, but I probably lulled them into a honeymoon state of child rearing such that they repeated the process three more times. Yep, they bestowed upon me the unrefundable title of big sister. Anyone who has survived life with siblings knows it's not all hugs and kisses. There are arguments. There are rivalries. There are scuffles. Despite the endless teasing and lack of privacy, my siblings did not defeat me. To my amazement, they care about me and vice versa. They keep it real. Never have they flattered me or permitted my head to swell disproportionally. We have an unbreakable bond. Looking back on my school years, I can honestly state that most of my teachers were fantastic. They recognized early on that I'd never be a star athlete, or perhaps even a weekend warrior. They did not offer participation awards and I did not covet them. They nurtured my artistic tendencies. They accepted that I was a chatterbox and it was a reflex as much as breathing. When words began to make sense, I ventured into expression via stories. My Nanny enthusiastically accepted her role as my first pen pal. She never criticized my terrible scrawl and she replied to all my letters. With her I could experiment with expression and description. I'm not going to be all soppy and lovey-dovey, but suffice it to say, my hubby, Paul, has co-habited with me for forty-three years now and I consider him to be my best friend. Sure, I'll admit we've weathered our storms and floated on a few surges. He's a doer and has an uncanny ability to gauge what is needed and then rectify it. We've both learned to give and take. We acted as partners raising our three children. We were a team. Ah, those three... How can I express heartache and joy? Being a mother requires nerves of steel and a thick skin. Nobody can break down your defences like a child.I do not regret my momentous decision to embrace motherhood. The ride never ends. I've discovered wells of strength and endurance I never knew were possible. I suppose my kids have caused me to become more vulnerable. And then there were grandgiggles... It is an indisputable truth that grandchildren are a reward for permitting your offspring to live. The girls are everything their own parents were and more.Being older is forgivable now. I do not however feel compelled to act my age. I am blessed to experience all life has to offer anew. |
| 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. |
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