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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. |
| September 26th Prompt: Tell us about something you have never done, but really want to do. Why haven't you done it? Well, in the realm of bigger than life dreams I'd really really really like to spend months travelling all of Great Britain via an RV, or in their patois, I want to 'caravan.' That's my biggie desire. I'd like to go a-RVing from tip to tip of that isle. Never mind luxury hotels or B&Bs. Sure, I'm not anti-comfort, but I prefer a towable temporary home on wheels that will shelter me as I wander wherever I wish to go. I will not bind myself to a timetable, or a mapped route. I want to be flexible as I meander as an unabashed tourist. Ideally, I'll camp along a windswept salty-air coastal site with crashing waves, a mystical emerald green forest, within the shadow of an ivy-covered castle, a barren moor, numerous villages and more. Along the way, I plan to meet and greet whomever crosses my path. We will most likely remark upon our differing accents and idioms. We all supposedly speak English, but with our own 'flavour.' Of course, I intend to sample the various delicacies available. Perhaps I can disprove the belief that all food British is tasteless and or bland. I'd love to savour yorkshire pudding, fish and chips, and fairy cakes straight from the source. I have no doubt I will down hundreds of 'cuppas.' I'm currently in training for this eventuality. Maybe I can enter a tea-sipping marathon? So, what's locked the wheels of my caravan so to speak? What is preventing me from embarking upon my cross-country trek? Sigh... I have champagne tastes dependent upon beer money. Finances, or more accurately the lack thereof crimps my travel plans. I dream beyond my means. I am not naive, I realize my ambitious foray will be expensive. First, I need to fly from Canada across the Atlantic. Next I'd have to lease a caravan and stock it with edibles. Oh, and I must also rent a vehicle which will require fuelling at regular intervals. Yep, there will undeniably be expenses. No problem... I just need to connect with a travel fairy. |
| September 25th prompt: family gathering: Aunt Bessie and Uncle Clyde are enroute, one is bringing a sweet potato pie and the other one's bringing ham hocks and greens...BUT the two of them haven't spoken in 20 years, What happens?? SIDE NOTE: The local Hydro is acting up as it pours rain. So far today, the power has disappeared twice, so I hope I am able to type up my blog and post it. Here goes my effort...fingers crossed... Chased out of the hot kitchen because I sampled more than I stirred and banished to the front porch to act as the spotter / greeter, I had time to sit and think. Before I'd been shooed away and swatted with a dish towel I'd heard the scuttlebutt about two long-absent relatives, Bessie and Clyde. They'd not been together at the same family gathering for twenty years. Now for some reason they were both expected to be present at this Thanksgiving celebration, two strangers to me, two senior citizens, two feuding kinfolk. Would there be fireworks? I anticipated an argument with shouting and name calling. Perhaps plates would be flung through the air and shatter on the floor. I could see a frantic, furious food fight, mashed potato missiles splattering on contact, gelatinous jiggly cranberry sauce-slime sliding down the walls forming red pools, green b-b shot peas pinging and plopping. A car door slams and I hear a shout. "Ahoy young lady. Can you give me a hand?" As I scramble to the unfamiliar figure of a white-bearded man struggling to exit a boat of a black sedan, he bellows, "I'm Clyde. Did they warn you I was coming?" I can't help myself. I grin. He loops his arm around one of mine and hands me a still warm pie. I steal a quick sniff. "It's my world famous sweet potato pie. Wait 'til you taste it. You'll be begging for the recipe." Recipe, that word tugged at me. Aha, right, that had been the contention, the strife between Bessie and Clyde. I settled Clyde and his pie in the kitchen happy to join in the flowing conversation. Returning to the porch I discover a round woman, a grey woman, panting and perched on a step. Clutched in her lap is a casserole dish. "Hi. You must be Bessie. We're expecting you. Can I carry that for you?" The decisive shake of her head surprises me. She does however proffer a hand and I pull her to her unsteady feet. Together we totter to the hub of activity. I gaze around and hold my breath.Clyde half rises from a chair knocking over a steaming mug of coffee. The sudden silence gives way to sidelong glances. I stand still and clench my jaw. Bessie deposits her ceramic dish on the counter next to Clyde's pie with a clatter. Next she shrugs out of her coat and Clyde catches it before it hits the floor. "What are y'all gawping at? Isn't anyone going to greet me?" Several throats coughed and ahemed. Clyde spoke first. "Hello Bessie, long time no see." All eyes stared, no one dared blink, as Bessie turned to the man she hadn't spoken to in twenty years. Clyde flinched. Bessie's brow furrowed. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. One foot tapped on the tile floor. The knitted scarf she'd been fiddling with slipped from her hands and crumpled at her feet. I bent to retrieve it. "Do I know you? Have we met? Are you here for Thanksgiving, too? I brought ham hocks and greens. Is that okay?" |
| PROMPT September 24th We think we know other people, and feel they know us. However, maybe they don't know us as well as they think. Tell us five things friends don’t know about you. (Don't share anything you aren't comfortable with sharing!) No one knows, at least I do not think they've noticed, (yet), but I seem to be morphing into a grumpy old man. Things, random things, irritate me. I am baffled by young men who shuffle about in their over-sized jeans belted somewhere around their knee caps. I dislike hearing "yo." Why does there seem to be a gangster-worship culture? Tattoos are no longer relegated to the body. Face and skull tats are prevalent. Now many people sport body piercings. One woman bedazzled her chest with fake gemstone piercings. What the heck are those gigantic round lobe piercings that leave ears with a sizeable hole? When and why did underwear become outer wear? Should I be muttering, "Bah, humbug?" I cannot saunter past garbage strewn on the ground and not pick it up. Am I compulsive? I feel an urge to clean it up and dispose of it in a refuse receptacle. In a store, I will retrieve items from the floor, a shirt, a shoe, a book, a bottle of shampoo, whatever. A few years ago I experienced a slip and fall in a grocery store and I still recall my thudding, painful collision with the unforgiving floor. I'd stepped into a gooey puddle of something spilled and ignored. At a library, or a bookstore I browse the children's section. I enjoy the creative, colourful illustrations as I read the stories. I struggle with the concept and the execution of 'no.' If asked to babysit, or chauffeur, or "just run in for something will you" I rarely say no. Do I need to be needed? I bite my tongue a lot. Of course, I have opinions, but I mainly keep them to myself. I've committed my own blunders and I believe others should be free to make their own, but... Entire discussions play out in my mind. |
| PROMPT September 23rd What life lessons do you believe everyone can benefit from learning? The journey of life certainly has its pitfalls. All of us I dare say blunder along most of the time in a perpetual loop of learning. Sometimes we hang on tight as we hurtle at g-force down a rollercoaster. Other times we sway with vertigo as if trapped in the spin cycle of a washer. Occasionally we hesitate on the ledge of a high rise's roof. At times we are paralyzed and pulled bit by agonizing bit into a mud hole. Eureka moments strike as if dazzling bolts of lightning. Deja vu haunts and chastises us. These are my words of wisdom / experience or whatever. Make of them what you will. Some I still struggle with. Some of them marked me for life. Lesson #1 : Since my youngest grand giggle at two and a half is at an impressionable stage in her development I feel I must pass on this hard-won truth. I know she'll thank me for it later. Never, ever under any circumstances stand , or walk behind an occupied moving swing. She may be a bit too young to appreciate the laws of physics, but I now know that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Physical stature is of no consequence. That arcing swing is a great equalizer. Lesson #2 : Always, always tie your shoe laces. It is most unfortunate when a dangling lace entangles in a bike's chain. Some might say disastrous. Loose flopping laces are attracted to moving machinery like an escalator. They lie in wait to trip the unsuspecting climber while scaling, or descending stair cases. They prove irresistible to slobbering, chewing dogs. I might even suggest a double, or triple knot to rein in errant laces. Lesson #3:Nowhere is it etched in stone that you must accept a double dare. The same applies to a triple-dog-dare. The world will not spin off its axis if you refuse. A giant yawning hole will not open up and swallow you whole. You may just save yourself a trip to the emergency room and preserve vital body parts. Your future aging person may thank you. Lesson #4:Listen to that little nagging voice warning you something is probably not a good idea. Trust that gut feeling, that intuition. Believe it or not, your mother had the right idea when she advised you not to jump off a bridge because everyone was doing it. There's a difference between risk and insanity, thrill and achievement. Look and consider before you leap. What's a few more minutes in the scheme of things? Lesson #5:If someone yells, "Watch this!", pay attention. Witnesses are always needed to verify a feat, or provide first aid, or dial 911. Lesson #6: Do not, I repeat do not stick your tongue out at your brother, the brother who chased you through the yard threatening to kill you, after you scoot into the kitchen, slam and lock the door, and taunt him supposedly trapped outside. Why assume you are safe and he is helpless to retaliate? You are asking for it as in a consequence, a bit of justice. Oh, and a glass window in a door is no match for that brother's fury, or his fist. Siblings may well be surprising. Lesson #7: Never ever press a big red button centered amongst the words DO NOT TOUCH. Yes, I know it is tempting, but resist that curiosity. Ear-splitting sirens will screech. Bright lights will strobe and flash. Shouting perspiring people will appear and mingle nearby. Oh, and the escalator will groan to a sudden stop. Lesson #8: Have you not heard of Murphy's Law? This aggravating maxim applies most strongly to mothers of young children. If anything can go wrong, it will. Children are nothing if not unpredictable. The moment you make that decision to not pack, or carry something with you you will need it. Convincing yourself that a ten-minute drive across town does not warrant bringing a fresh diaper and hundreds of cleaning wipes is the exact moment your baby experiences explosive diarrhea. Daring to venture out to the park sans a complete first aid kit in tow is the time your toddler tumbles, spies a tiny drop of bright red blood on their exposed knee cap, and screams that he wants a bandage. He will be inconsolable without that magic wound cover. Mothers be prepared. |
| PROMPT September 22nd Do you have a 'Bucket List'? IF so, what's on it? If not, tell us what you would add to it when you start one. Do I have a before-I-kick-the-bucket list? Hmm... before I buy the farm what do I most wish to do? Perhaps I'd like to purchase a rural property, an actual farm? I could foster a few feathered and furry friends. Maybe I'd plant a humongous garden. Nah, why would I do that? I'd be creating too much responsibility and work, right? First of all I'd have more mouths to feed and critters to clean up after. It'd be like living with creatures children again , dependents who are vulnerable and needy. Any crops I encouraged to flourish would probably feed the local wildlife any way and weeding can be back-breaking work. I'm not growing any younger and I'd really like to enjoy myself before my inevitable end. Nope, at the moment I do not have a bucket list. At least, I don't believe I have one. I've never prefaced any plans with "before I die I want to have done this." My possibilities are "maybe one day" musings. If they happen they happen, if they don't it won't be the end of the world which as I now ponder it would be an actual factual event. Someday I will cease to exist and I will be finished permanently. There will be no more what ifs, or one days. Projects will be abandoned. Trips will be cancelled. Things left unsaid. Old wounds never healed. Relationships severed. Regret, I am anticipating regret. This could be a bucket list worthy goal. I'd like to die regret-free. I don't want to leave unfinished business as my legacy. There will not be secrets, or mysteries clouding my history. I will not scatter unequivocal, ambiguous feelings, messages, or opinions. Okay, okay, permit me one indulgence. I'd be beyond thrilled to visit and explore Great Britain. By plane, train, automobile, riverboat, and caravan I'd love a cross-isle trek. Imagine the new memories I could collect in my brimming bucket! |
| PROMPT September 21st Tell us about any vegetable or fruit that you absolutely hate. Then think of ways to cook those ingredients that would encourage you to try them. Truthfully I can not brag profess that I like to partake of all veggies 'cause there's one, just one, that prevents that boastful claim. I shall type it out, spit it out here, but I find this green-skinned abomination to be distasteful. Cucumber. Blech! Gag! Wretch! As a five-year old I'd rant, "Cukes make me puke!" Both the terrible stench and the regrettable flavour repel me. And the overpowering scent of this awful vegetable is glorified in a plethora of products; candles, skin care lotions, soaps, shampoos, and more. Yuck! Why has celery been overlooked in this regard? Now that is a smell and taste I find delicious. Not once have I found a celery-scented candle. Hmmm... Did you know people make cucumber sandwiches? I'd prefer a brussels sprout sammie, or a rutabaga sandwich. ( Isn't rutabaga a fun-sounding word? Exotic maybe?)Salads are ruined, defiled by cucumbers. Thank goodness for the good ol' BLT. Someone had the sense not to mar it with a cuke. Oh, and does anyone dare to blemish a pizza with a cucumber? There are plenty of actual tasty veggies for that honour. Onions, mushrooms, peppers, now those are venerable veggies. Now how in the wide world could a cucumber be transformed into something edible? Someone solved that problem eons ago. Just add dill seasoning and perhaps a soupcon, ( french word for tiny bit, a smattering), of garlic. The wonderful result is commonly known as a dill pickle, ( a cornichon for the francaise). Now, that is how I will consume a cucumber. Wait, hold up, I just Googled cucumber and guess what it's a fruit. Ah, sorta like the tomato debate. Hey, that means I do like all veggies and this explains a great deal. I'm not much of a fruit fancier, never have been. My favourite fruit is the tomato and my least favourite, or downright detestable are melons. Considering methods to disguise any food my mind automatically reverts to baking. With the magical powers of sugar, flour, eggs, butter and an army of spices I've converted many a veggie or a fruit into drool-worthy concoctions. Carrots, zucchinis, rhubarb, pumpkins, apples, bananas, peaches, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, cranberries, and even potatoes may be altered to become the calorie carriers they were intended to be. Marie Antoinette was a visionary. "Let them eat cake." And in her defense, she never suggested anyone eat a cucumber, or a cucumber disguised as a dill pickle. |
| PROMPT September 20th No one knows you can't afford food. You do not want your co-workers or neighbors to know. How do you manage? Do you go to a local food bank? Maybe visit a good friend(s) at the right time (Dinner time)? Do you somehow scrounge for leftover or unwanted food? So, I'm destitute? For some reason I cannot afford to buy food? I'm in danger of going hungry? What's happened? Why if this is true am I wasting time asking questions and not seeking the source of my next meal? I suppose I need to scavenge, but this is not the greatest time of year to realize I did not plant a garden. Already the frost has returned. Most veggie plots have likely been emptied and their goodies harvested. Perhaps I could offer to help an elderly farmer / gardener tidy up their holding in exchange for a few of the leftovers. I'd gratefully accept the wizened carrots, the spotted potatoes, the wrinkled onions, the teeny tiny turnips and the pale unpopular parsnips. Surely there must be some root veggies left to uncover. I might meander into a local orchard and volunteer to pick apples as trade for a personal basket. They keep fresh for a while. There'd be one huge benefit to eating raw. None of the nutrients would be cooked / leached from my 'pay.' I assume I'd have no baking ingredients to whip up a mouth-watering pie, or an apple crisp. Hmm, I believe it's pumpkin season at the moment and while I do enjoy its flavour I've never eaten one uncooked before. I'm salivating over memories of warm pumpkin pie. If I could roll one home, I'd add it to the veggies to create a vegan stew. If I really needed sustenance, I could approach a market vendor at end of day and ask for the remaining wares as feed for my fictional bunny. Nobody wants to see a pet starve. My sister once approached a grocer and asked for the spoiled lettuce and such for her living, breathing bunny. I'm hiding my need, right? As I understand it anyone is supposed to be able to access a foodbank without any questions. We also wear masks when inside a building, or in the company of others, so my identity could remain secret. I really am not a picky eater and I'd be most grateful for anything donated to my well-being. Would the number of people waiting in line surprise me? I could wrangle an invitation to supper at my sister's. We usually get lost in our chinwags and the food is secondary. If I'm lucky enough to be served one of her homemade soups, I'll be offered a mason jar full to take home with me. The brother-in-law doesn't like soups and Sherry cooks enough for an army. I've been invited to my niece's wedding. I'll chow down with the other guests at the reception. Hey, might I crash other weddings in search of a meal? With these plans / alternatives I'm not quite ready to try dumpster diving. The regular scroungers may not be too willing to share their spoils. They're a tough crew and I do not relish having my eyes scratched out. Bears and raccoons can be such animals. |
| PROMPT September 19th Look at the photos below. Choose any three of them and write a short story (<500 words) to tie them together. (These are photos from my travels around the world. Read the photo description to learn more about it) Emily tossed and turned. With a sigh she punched her pillow for what seemed like the gazillionth time. She'd tried counting sheep, but they were too noisy. Steadying her breathing, in and out, in and out Em remembered her relaxation techniques. She willed her taut muscles to relax. She made a concerted effort to force any worries from her brain. She envisioned a broom sweeping them out of sight. She gave her thoughts free will to wander wherever they wished. With a smile, Emily saw herself climb aboard an odd-looking motorized vehicle. It resembled a red tricycle with a canopy and a back seat. Over a rutted street she bounced and jostled while a grinning man chattered to her in a garbled rush.Vehicles rushed by her and strange new smells tickled her nose. So, this is a Tuk-Tuk she mused. Why weren't these rides available where she lived? Before she could consider this further Emily heard a whoosh and felt herself lifted up and away. With a thud she landed on a slick, damp, cobble-stoned path. A choking fog swallowed her whole. Swiping her eyes and gasping Em wandered into a solid stone wall. Scrabbling and reaching she slips to the ground. Something crawled across her face. Shuddering she jumps to her feet and a gust of wind spun her in fast circles. In a slow spiral Emily floated to the grassy ground next to a stone monument. Huh, she wondered. Somebody collected and piled all of these. Squinting she reads a plaque. Geronimo? 1909? What? When she yelled Geronimo before she leapt into the lake back home she was commemorating a dead warrior? Really? Emily's legs spasmed into an especially excruciating charlie horse. Springing upright into a seated bunch of nerves she rubbed her calves and panted. Well, so much for falling asleep now.All the mind travel had keyed her up.(354 words ) |
| September 18th prompt: Take us through a day in your life at your job/career. Today, 10:10ish: Emily awakened me via a text. I heard the chirpy "hello" generated by a Minion voice and I fumbled for my cell phone. My eyes opened reluctantly to read,"When do you want me to come over?" Not fully functioning my fingers stabbed at the teeny tiny keyboard. After a few attempts at sounding coherent and an equal number of erasures, I punched in a reply. I advised my grandgiggle I was just waking up. I was hinting I needed time to clear the cobwebs. Within a few minutes: Emily texted, "Well doesn't have to be now. Just whenever you want me to come." Thinking this was the extent of our communication I rolled over and dozed off. Again the Minion summoned me. "Want me to stay for a sleepover?" With a sigh I forced my weary eyes open again. Obviously I needed to answer Emily. Before I composed something I read her Mom would drop her off. I relied on the ever reliable short 'okay, when?" 10:50ish: Em texted, "On my way." I thanked her for the warning and rolled out of bed. Thus began my Saturday. Perhaps I shouldn't have stayed awake binge-watching a Britbox series until 2:a.m. By the time Em breezed in, I'd shrugged into clothes and started to sip a hot cup of tea. She wanted to know our itinerary for the day. Ah, plans had to be made. Together we decided to visit the local fall fair and gathered the foray necessities; sunglasses, keys, and cell phones to snap pics. As we were leaving, hubby who was supposed to be on an extended road trip phoned to ask if I had any plans for the day. Long story short yet another transport had broken down and he wanted a lift to recover a new rig. Ah, I'd be a chauffeur. First, Em and I sauntered amongst the exhibits at the fair savouring the glorious sunshine and people-watching. Our road trip ate another three hours of our afternoon . Em acted as the D.J. selecting saved tunes from her phone and played through the car's bluetooth system. I heard music new to me and I liked it. Easy, carefree lesson... Back in the vicinity of home, we decided to partake of more fresh air. We strolled down to the nearby lakefront intending to snap more photos. The glimmering water, the sun rays, the floating ducks, all posed for us. Vibrants reds, yellows, and purples beckoned to us in the form of waving blooms. At home, Em searched online for a movie she was sure I'd enjoy. Her instincts were spot on and we laughed through it. The film's premise was based on a favourite childhood book her father had loved. Next we prepared a stir-fry for supper chattering all the while. Now I am composing this blog as Em sits beside me urging me to pay attention to "the good parts" in the Netflix series "The Umbrella Academy." Our together time continues... This is but a day in my semi-retired life. Emily and I share another "sleep-me-over." |
| PROMPT September 17th Do you procrastinate? We all do to one extent or another. What doubts or excuses could you let go of to help you become more consistent and minimize procrastination? Me procrastinate? Inconceivable! I did delay responding to this prompt today though, does that count? I busied myself with other things. As I sat down before my keyboard I texted my middle grandgiggle about meeting up tomorrow. Her reply in the form of predictive text asked if I could pick her up "tomato." My laughing response, purely instinctual, caused a further delay. Sometimes, I fall victim to an easily diverted attention span. I discovered a Britbox program that tickled my fancy and so I binged for a few hours. Feeling hunger pains I did stop to cook myself something to eat. Then I reminded myself about today's blog prompt. Is it really procrastination when I choose to do things at a later time? Today consists of a twenty-four hour period and as long as my blog is posted before midnight I've honoured the deadline. My participation is voluntary. I choose when to sit down and create a blog post. I'm doing it now and dithering. Am I procrastinating? I prefer to believe that whilst I am preoccupied with whatever I am mulling over a suitable bit of writing. Sure with the time-honoured tradition of multi-tasking I do not always allot equal time or attention to each of my commitments. I defer my reactions, actions, satisfaction. While I type this I ignore the dirty dishes piled in the sink and recall I intended to send off a letter to someone. Full disclosure, that is an on-going 'shoulda.' I've hemmed and hawed about clearing space on my bookshelves. Before I know it my niece's wedding will be imminent and I've yet to figure out a suitable gift. It'll snow soon enough, so I need to finish packing away the camping stuff at the trailer. I think there's a month's worth of entries to inscribe in the company ledger. Okay, okay. I just may be a procrastinator. Nothing I listed is insurmountable. I could visit the trailer site 'tomato', but I have a date with my grandgiggle. She'll have plans for us no doubt. Perhaps Sunday will be the day. That trailer isn't going anywhere. |
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