Yearly Archives: 2015

A little dab’ll do ya

12 Comments

Although this cute little catch phrase was originally used for Bryl Cream, it came rushing to the forefront of my mind when I passed a young man on his way into the grocery store as I was heading out.  He was wearing SO much cologne that I actually began to gag on the way to my car.  The scent permeated, not only my nostrils but, my taste buds and it eventually began to burn my throat.  It was overwhelming.  I guess he was never taught the old adage – a little goes a long way.

Little_Dab

(image credit)

I may have a slightly tarnished view of this because I am allergic to perfume and cologne so any slight whiff affects my delicate sensibilities, but, even so, it was like watching the well-groomed version of Pig Pen from the Peanuts cartoon except the cloud was a film of cologne instead of his usual dust cloud.

I think Axe Body Spray for men, and any perfume or cologne companies for that matter, should adopt a new advertising campaign – commercials showing women and men running in horror from the noxious cloud created by those who don’t know when to say enough is enough when it comes to “dabbing” on that bit of fragrance.

For those of you fortunate enough to be able to wear your favorite scents, please remember – everything in moderation.  A little dab really will do ya.

Floating in a most peculiar way – fiction

16 Comments

eagle-neb-lg

As he neared the Eagle Nebula, he gasped at its beauty.  He always hoped he would see it in his lifetime.  As he got closer to it, his trajectory changed and he was able to view it from many sides.  His thoughts turned to home and, although each version was different, he mumbled audibly as he rewrote the letter in his head for what he hoped would be the last time.

“My Dearest Love,

I can only anticipate how worried you have been since you have not heard from me.  The mission to Mars went horribly wrong on so many levels and I fear I will never be able to get back to you.  I have not seen my crew nor am I able to communicate with Houston.

I am miraculously floating through space with no oxygen, yet I continue to live.  The noxious carbon dioxide that I expel with every breath seems to dissipate and is no longer toxic to me.  I have not consumed food or had water in what I fear is more time than I can calculate but I have no true concept of time in this vast constellation.  I have no waste to rid from my body and, against all odds, I still seem to exist.

The sky is beautiful.  I remember how you used to love to gaze at the stars, taking the time to point out the constellations in our own galaxy and you would always wonder what existed outside of the Milky Way.  I am here, love, and it is beyond anything you could have ever imagined.  It is color and music and poetry all connected by stars.  It feels like our wedding dance when everything and everyone seemed to disappear and the only thing I felt was your breath on my neck and the only sound was our hearts beating together.

But with all of this beauty comes so much despair because you are so far away.  I wish for this journey to end.  I wish my mortal self would cease to exist so you and I could be reunited.  I wish that I would not have to go through the pain of writing this letter yet again because I fear that I do know how many times it has been written and that number is too high to be accurate.

I will do my best to get home to you.

Until we meet again, my love.”

~~

mutant750-wk

 

Written for the Grammar Ghoul Challenge – combining the photo above of the Eagle Nebula taken by the Hubble Telescope and the word Love (noun) – A person or thing that one loves.

 

 

Smart phones, stupid people

15 Comments

ctv

(image credit)

I frequently watch the news when I get home from work.  I like to feel that I am remotely connected to what is happening around me and have some knowledge of events that may have an effect on how I venture into the next day.

Last night, the top story angered, saddened and disgusted me.  A video was taken of a female police officer being physically attacked by two teenage girls.  The video was then uploaded to the internet and has been viewed an alarming number of times.  But the worst part, for me, is the fact that the person who stood and filmed the abuse did nothing to help the officer who so obviously could have used the help.  The officer handled herself with the utmost decorum and did not encourage further violence by reacting in a way that would only spur on the attack.

I don’t often rant on this blog but this situation made me absolutely furious.  This person not only stood by and watched a woman who swore an oath to protect and serve, and sadly to protect and serve the same horrible human being who had the audacity to stand by and film an assault on an officer of the law but, they also had the balls to laugh at the end of their video when the teens attempted to flee the scene and the struggle came to an end.

I cannot tell you that I would jump into the middle of the melee because I abhor violence.  But what I can tell you is that I would be using my phone to call 9-1-1 instead of standing still, clicking the record button on my video and bearing witness to a crime, only to film it, and upload it, for a deplorable laugh.  Teens who were interviewed and showed the video also laughed until the reporter asked why they found the video funny.

It worries me that this is how society today respects figures of authority and accepts the most hideous displays of behavior as funny without being the least bit concerned about right and wrong.  I can safely say that in this case, the phone that was used to film this atrocity is much smarter than the person who owns it.

 

It’s all fun and games until you can’t have a shower

8 Comments

I have been fortunate to live in this beautiful place called Muskoka for most of my life.  I was born in a larger city and we relocated when I was seven years old.  I left the comfort of my little town for a couple of years when I went to college and, when I could no longer stand the sites of the concrete jungle, I eventually made the move back home.

Friends from college still ask how I can live in such a remote location and I always respond the same way ~ how can I not?  I am not a city girl, by any means.  The crowds of people at any given time make me very anxious and the pace of the city is way too fast for my liking.

Being a “country bumpkin” and living in an old out-building of a farmhouse does, however, have its challenges.  I try my best not to watch the heat slowly escaping through cracks in the house by filling in holes and covering door jambs with towels to block the drafts.  I try to tune out the sound of the furry little freeloaders living rent free in my attic and my basement.  But the one thing I am unable to ignore is the frozen pipes after battling frigid temperatures for a few weeks.  I had been lucky until my return from home on Monday.  As much as they fought to stay warm enough, the pump and the pipes were no match for Mother Nature’s steady -34 Celsius temperatures without factoring in the wind chill.

Thankfully because I have been living this lifestyle for so long I am able to adapt but I am hoping to have the situation rectified by this afternoon.  Adapting to my lack of running water is one thing, this is why I always keep bottled water in my house.  But not being able to shower in my own home will soon become an issue and I’m sure my neighbors don’t want to see me “bathing” in the snow on my deck!

snow bath

(image credit)

My wish

10 Comments

fountain-coins

I wish, oh how I wish

that I could open up your heart.

I want to get to know you

but that’s the hardest part.

I know you from the outside,

your voice I recognize.

But the real you I’m looking for

is always in disguise.

Sometimes looking into your eyes

I can read what’s on your mind.

But then you turn, you look away,

afraid of what I’ll find.

I want to know what makes you tick,

what makes you run away.

I’d like to understand you,

there just seems no easy way.

My empty heart beats for you,

it wants us to be one.

It wants to heal the scars you bear,

to have the knots undone.

The seconds move, the hours wane,

and still you turn from me.

Still I wait, I keep you close,

awaiting what may be.

~~

(image credit)

Finding the hidden beauty

4 Comments

invisible sunrise

The sun may be rising

behind a curtain of clouds,

but it is still grabbing onto the horizon

and pulling itself into our morning sky.

The beauty may be hidden,

the stunning colors may be invisible,

but the sounds of a new day

echo what we cannot see.

Life begins anew as the sun comes up.

It rises regardless of any obstacles

and we can still feel its warmth.

Its light through the clouds is proof that a new day has dawned.

Even though it may not touch our skin,

we know that holds a place in our day.

And though we may not be able to see it,

we have faith that its hidden beauty is there,

waiting for that chance to peek through the clouds

and shine on us again.

 ~

(image credit)

Two Hearts

7 Comments

two hearts

Two hearts met again in heaven,

time and distance

could only delay their reunion.

Although they vowed to continue

on a journey to find love,

they only found the truest version

when their hearts found each other again.

Through spiritual realms,

their hearts still only recognized the other,

the one they had known,

the one they had missed,

the one they were meant to love.

Two hearts met again in Heaven,

and those two hearts,

are destined to meet

in each lifetime.

~~

Happy Valentine’s Day Mom and Dad

Ashes to ashes – fiction

14 Comments

heart-ants

She knew his heart would crash, landing right at her feet the moment she told him it was over.  What had been a fairy tale beginning had quickly turned into the twisted relationship only Dean Koontz could do justice in one of his macabre stories.  It had been tumultuous, to say the least, and she just needed to be free of him.

Over the course of their relationship, he had retreated into a cocoon inside his mind, fueled by the haze of booze and cigarettes.  She had not realized his heart had shrunk to such a miniscule version of what it once was until she saw it laying before her, cold and lifeless on the stony ground.

His face seemed to become more emaciated the longer she looked at him.  He had not reacted verbally to her accusations.  He could only nod in sullen agreement because he seemed to have lost the ability to speak.  She berated him, lashed out for each minute she spent wishing her life with him had been different.  With each bitter word she uttered, her Machiavellian intention became clearer to him.

She couldn’t tell if his eyes actually became bigger when he realized what was happening or if it just seemed like it because his body was withering at such a rapid rate.  His hair-line seemed to recede as she watched and his gaunt complexion resembled more of a skeleton than a human body.  She pulled the small doll from her pocket and lingered before she pushed the last pin into the woven material that covered its chest.  A small sigh escaped her lips and she plunged the final pin into the doll.  What remained of his skin and bones hastily turned to dust and fell to the cobblestone street.

She stood idle for a few moments and watched as the ants began to march single file through the crack in the stone.  Like a well trained army, they worked as a team to circle the tiny carrion and haul the remains of the lifeless heart down the hole to take home as a trophy.  Little did they know, the spell she had created would only allow that heart to exist for mere minutes after the rest of his body had disappeared.  The ants would get it into the hole but it would never remain solid long enough to present it to the colony.

As she walked away, she carefully removed each pin remembering the outcome that each jab had on his physical being.  She tossed the pins in the gutter and placed the doll safely back in her pocket, hoping, once again, this would be the last time she would need it.

~~

mutant750-wk

Written for the Grammar Ghoul Challenge – to use the picture above – Just a lonely heart by Marina Carvalho
is licensed under CC by 2.0,  and the word crash with the following definition – Move or cause to move with force, speed, and sudden loud noise

 

 

 

Getting to the root of the question

16 Comments

I am a natural brunette, or at least I was a natural brunette until sometime in my twenties.  Like my grandmother, my hair started to age before its time and I began to notice more salt than pepper at the roots surrounding my face.  I have been dying my hair since then because I refuse to go down the path of “aging gracefully” without a hearty fight.

Someone recently asked me what my natural hair color was and, after I finished giggling, I responded with “I’m guessing somewhere between alabaster and egg-shell white”.  I still like to think the hair color that I have paid for on numerous occasions reflects the age I feel and not the age I should look when I am eighty.

When I was younger I remember  hearing the belief that grey hair made men look distinguished but made women look old.  Along with every other changing belief, this is an outdated way of thinking and there are many women disproving this theory at an alarming rate.  One stand-out woman who takes grey hair to a new level of sexy is this woman.

Jamie-Lee-Curtis-image-3

Jamie Lee Curtis is 56 years old, a mere 10 years old than I am and she looks absolutely stunning having allowed herself to embrace the natural greying process.  Since the length of my hair in the summer months is very similar to her pixie cut, I have been tempted many times to put the box of “natural” color back on the shelf and see just what color my hair really is at this stage in my life.  Somehow those ‘Natural Instincts’ make their way to the counter every time.

Maybe when I hit that magic number, the big 5-0, perhaps then I will be ready to leave the color in the box, but until then it’s time to put those gloves back on and keep fighting the good fight.

The fireflies at the windows

6 Comments

We are rapidly approaching the last of the “firsts” since we lost my mom almost a year ago.  I stumbled blindly through my birthday last year, which was three weeks to the day after she passed.  We muddled through the rest of the birthdays in our immediate family, except for one still to come, and celebrated mom’s birthday by having her celebration of life on that same day.

Valentine’s Day will be a quiet one for me this year.  After my dad died, mom and I made a pact to be each others Valentine.  Even after I was married, mom and I had a standing ‘date night’ on February 14th because my now ex-husband always had to work at the restaurant.  She and I would go out for a nice dinner and always gave each other either a lovely arrangement of flowers or a cry-inducing Hallmark card full of sentiment that we both honestly meant.

My youngest nephews’ 12th birthday will be the last of the firsts.  That will be an odd feeling.  But it got me thinking about all of the other milestones, the new ‘firsts’, my parents may see from where they are, but will not be able to physically participate in.  This is the calendar year that my brother will turn fifty.  I’m sure nobody in our family ever thought that momentous day would come and neither of our parents will be here to help him celebrate and embarrass him with untold stories of his youth.

They will miss my oldest nephew, in just over a year, getting his G-1 (the Canadian version of the Learner’s Permit) and creating a new crop of grey hair on the heads of my brother and sister-in-law.  They will miss both of their grandchildren deciding on what field of study they wish to pursue and their subsequent University years and future careers.  And they will not be here if the Gods decide to shine favorably and allow me to fall in love again, the right way this time with the person who deserves my heart.  (although I know my mom will be doing her best to send that person my way)

fireflies

I know in my heart that both of my parents wouldn’t miss any of these events.  They will be those dancing specks of light we see at dusk, hovering by the window to watch our lives move forward.  It would just be so much nicer if they were standing right beside us to share in all of the new firsts yet to come.