Category Archives: blogging

Those elusive birds

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The Daily Prompt today truly got me thinking….and on a Monday that is slightly painful.  The challenge today is this – Clichés become clichés for a reason. Tell us about the last time a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush for you.

bird in the hand

(image courtesy of Google)

This may be a reverse approach to this challenge, but this is where my brain took my words.

Truly appreciating what you have without looking at what better things may come along may be easier said than done.  There is always the outward pressure of ‘what if’ that will make us ponder the value of what we have now versus the value of what may lay beyond.

We take the risk of upsetting the balance in our lives, that sure thing, to forage the unknown.  And perhaps the excitement of the mysterious is part of the allure.  Perhaps the elusive birds in the bush hold the key to something we have not been able to realize with the bird in hand.

It’s lofty to dream, but as long as we don’t let greed cloud our vision, each of us will always have that feeling of wanderlust.  It’s how we choose to act on that feeling that is important, and so far, I have never let that voracity interrupt the path that I have chosen.

Laying in Wait

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iphone 019

Spring wanted to escape the clutches of winter,

it was waiting for its turn.

Through the clouds, touching the trees,

the sun had started to burn.

The opaque blue of the February sky

embraced the ball of heat.

Branches stretched to feel its warmth,

longing for a chance to meet.

Buried under mountains of snow,

blades of grass strained under its weight.

Buds of lilacs hidden in their shrouds

longed to achieve their beautiful fate.

But winter in its fit of rage

took hold of the sky again.

Suicidal snowflakes fell

and cloaked where spring had been.

Mercury fell and icicles formed,

the promise of warmth was gone.

Spring would have to lay in wait

to sing its beautiful song.

This one time, in Texas……

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I have lived in Ontario for most of my life, but in 1998 I moved to Halifax to live with my best friend Sandra. I got a job at a bakery and, with the low-level of pay that was minimum wage, struggled to make ends meet. There was nothing left at the end of a pay period to allow for much of a social life so the internet quickly became a great source of amusement. Back in those days, there was a social site called ICQ and I met a myriad number of people from all over the world. One fellow in particular captured my attention and we developed a friendship that seemed to plant the seed for a greater attraction.

We wrote poetry and song lyrics together and would spend countless hours on the phone talking and singing together while he played guitar. We knew we had to meet face to face. My best friend and I decided we would spend our vacation driving through the States and that Austin, TX would become a stop on our whirlwind tour.

The hours we spent in the car, although amusing, were long and arduous and we would find creative ways to keep each other awake. Sandra knew the steel trap that is my mind stored movie quotes ad nauseam and she would give me a quote and I would quote back from the same movie. She made the mistake of asking me to do some scenes from Arthur, with Dudley Moore, and I began with the introductory theme song and continued to do the movie almost in its entirety. The sign for Austin loomed ahead as I came to the end of my monologue and Sandra breathed a sigh of relief.

The meeting with Danny went extremely well and he was excited to take me to his work the next day. His excitement had a child-like enthusiasm as he toured me around the facility. There are some details that I don’t recall specifically, but he was trying to explain the weight of something and handed me a concrete block so I could comprehend the comparison. I picked up the block and immediately dropped it at my feet. Searing pain registered in one of my fingers and as I looked down at the block, a small scorpion scurried along the ground away from the block. Danny’s shock registered immediately and the color drained from his face. He knew I had been stung and hurried me inside and grabbed his pack of menthol cigarettes. He began chewing some of the tobacco and placed a wad of saliva soaked tobacco on my finger to draw out the poison.

scorpion

(Image courtesy of Google, but the resemblance is uncanny)

Hind sight being what it is, I should have gone to the hospital, but I’m here telling the tale so the worst never happened. I did spend an inordinate amount of time in a great deal of pain. My lips went numb for a few hours as the diluted poison surfed through my veins and my finger throbbed like a Fred Flintstone toe after being crushed by a boulder. Danny trapped the little bastard that assaulted my digits and after a few minutes of shaking the glass jar that was his tomb, the scorpion committed his own form of Hari Kari by piercing his own skull with his poisonous barb. Although I did feel a small amount of satisfaction watching the life ebb from his crunchy little outer shell, it didn’t alleviate any of the pain.

We said goodbye to Danny and to Texas. Our journey continued and we made more pleasant memories in New Orleans, South Carolina, and enjoyed the pain-free remainder of our vacation as we made our way up the picturesque Eastern Seaboard and crossed the border back into Canada.

Things didn’t work out with Danny. He couldn’t understand my vehement objection when he asked if I would move to Texas. I’m sure I stared at the tip of my violated finger as I broke the news to him. I’ll take mosquitos and black flies any day. Scorpions?  No thank you.

What is the strangest thing that has happened to you?

Hidden in the Woods – Trifecta Challenge

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Here is my take on this Trifecta Challenge.

The clanking sailboat masts shouted with panic.  He wouldn’t look for long.   He could not abide the thought of any child discovering what he had discovered.  The woods were  now around the remnants.

~

This weekend we are playing another type of word game with you.  Below are photos from the 33rd page of one of our very favorite books, Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge.  What we want you to do is to scour the page (click to enlarge), choose 33 words, and reshape those words into a piece of your own.  Your piece does not have to tell an entire story.  We just want to see what you can do with this particular word bank.  Punctuation is up to you.  Use whatever you need, whether or not it appears in the photos.

I read, therefore, I review

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I love to read.  I don’t make as much time for it as I would like because I am consumed with writing, but when I do ignore the incongruously fueled ideas that seep into my conscious hours I love to immerse myself in the written expression of others as consumed as I am by words.  I have been fortunate to meet many talented writers and genuinely nice people on this blog site.  And I also consider myself lucky to have read some of their published works.  I have written my amateur reviews on Amazon and wanted to share them with you in hopes that you would read the books written by these truly talented people.

The Gods of Asphalt by H.E. Ellis – I didn’t want to put it down 

Engaging from beginning to end, The Gods of Asphalt takes us on a journey of emotion and growth. Sawyer and River, two brothers with a far from normal childhood, struggle with their past and find a way to define themselves through Ellis’ depiction of teenage angst and growing pains.

Their relationship with each other, their family and their peers is written with such honesty and tension that the pages seem to turn themselves as you are wrapped into the weave of their lives. Within their turmoil we are given true insight into their characters and find something compelling in each of them. Ellis writes with such realism that the book takes on a life of its own. She gives depth to not only the main characters, but to each of the ensemble that support Sawyer and River on their adventure.

The Gods of Asphalt is the first in a series and this foray into the family dynamic puts the spotlight on Sawyer. His journey to finally break free of his past and live a life that is defined only by him is an endearing story and one that will have you strapping into your seat as you ride along on his roller coaster.

I would recommend setting aside several hours if you start this book because you won’t be able to put it down.  Go here for more information on H.E. Ellis and her books.

Scenes From A Hundred Morning Drives by Edward Hotspur – Who knew driving to work could be so funny 

One hundred morning drives and one hundreds reasons to read this book. From funny to thought-provoking, Edward Hotspur takes us on his journey to work and on an adventure through the workings of his mind. It ranges from hilarious to emotionally charged and never disappoints.

Scenes From A Hundred Morning Drives makes you wish you were the co-pilot in the vehicle that drove this book. It is a collection of blog posts that transforms into a day-to-day account of the life of real person that describes real feelings and hilarious observations of the casualties of the human experience.

It is humor, wrapped in honesty, wrapped in reality and then wrapped in bubble wrap for safety. If you like to laugh at life and find some deeper meaning hidden in the text, put on your seat belt and get ready for a hundred morning drives.  Click here to find out more about Mr. Hotspur.

The Eleventh Question by Dianne Gray – Emotional attachment to the characters

Author Dianne Gray truly knows how to get to the real essence of her characters. I was immediately drawn into this book and had trouble putting it down.

Although worlds apart, Dianne weaves a connection between a girl struggling to define her reasons for being and Seer trying desperately to help her find the answers to her questions. The book seamlessly transitions from one perspective to the other and intertwines helplessness with hope.

The Eleventh Question not only engages us in the journey of the characters but makes us reflect on the signs that life presents. It delves into the deeper meaning of intuition and gives us hope that nobody is ever truly alone. It is an uplifting story of survival and success against all odds.  For more information about Dianne Gray and the other books she has written, click here.

my words

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(image courtesy of Google)

words-1

my words embrace me.

my words do not judge me from the outside.

my words speak volumes about who I am underneath.

my words define me in a way my speech never will.

my words convey an emotion that churns in the pit of my being.

my words will help you see who I truly am without the facade that I present.

my words are me.

my words allow me to speak with no sound.

my words allow me to feel with no pain.

my words are who I am and not who I pretend to be.

my words come from my soul and not from my mind.

my words drip with my emotion.

my words are rich with imagery.

my words are me.

my words bring me to a place of comfort.

my words help me find understanding.

my words draw characters in my imagination.

my words make those characters breathe life.

my words implore me to continue my journey.

my words free my creativity.

my words are me.

What does it taste like?

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The envelope stood alone in her mailbox, her lawyer’s name etched on the top corner.  The papers had come and it was finally over.

She headed to her favorite restaurant and bought a bottle of Cakebread Cabernet Sauvignon and brought the glass to her nose.  She could trace the hints of dark berries, Cassis and mocha.  The aroma penetrated her nose and she savored the scent.  When she finally let the glass brush her lips the wine spilled over her taste buds. It was heaven.

The bartender was curious and asked her, “What does it taste like?”

“It tastes like freedom.”

100 word challenge

This was written for the 100-Word Challenge at Julia’s Place.  I just stumbled on it, and I do love a challenge.

I’m sure the water is fine – Trifecta Challenge

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I’ve never been afraid of the water.  But perhaps after spending five years trying to calm the waves in my marriage I have been left with the slightest hesitation about diving back in.  Divorce can feel like a Tsunami, like the calm before the storm.  There is a sense of peace and strange tranquility and then the rush of emotion comes like a tidal wave engulfing everything in its path. And like the Tsunami, you know that wave is coming but it’s nearly impossible to get to a safe haven.

tsunami

(image courtesy of Google)

The dating pool, although seemingly non-threatening compared to the violent storm waves, beckons and standing on the edge of that pool is just as daunting as watching that tide surge forward.  The water may seem calm on the surface but the hidden dangers lie beneath that placid sheen and the potential for another storm gives me pause.  The slightest touch of the surface causes ripples and pushes me back from the edge of the pool.

I watch as the ripples dissipate.  The soft blue glow seems so inviting, but the dormant threat still lurks under the veil waiting to lure me closer to the edge, waiting to gently touch my skin and pull me under when I am blissfully unaware of the current below.  I can’t swim, not now.  Maybe sometime soon I will remember how wonderful it felt to float in that water, how comforting it was to be surrounded by its warmth and to feel buoyant.  Maybe soon, but not now.

I’m sure the water is fine, but I don’t think I’m ready yet to hold my breath and jump.  For now I’m content to sit on the edge of the pool and exhaust every argument in my head as to why I shouldn’t just take the plunge.

~

This was written for the Trifecta Challenge:
EXHAUST (transitive verb)
1a : to consume entirely : use up <exhausted our funds in a week>
b : to tire extremely or completely <exhausted by overwork>
c : to deprive of a valuable quality or constituent <exhaust a photographic developer>
2a : to draw off or let out completely
b : to empty by drawing off the contents; specifically : to create a vacuum in
3a : to consider or discuss (a subject) thoroughly or completely  

Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone.  Please join us.

Telemarketing at its best

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They’re out there – lurking in the shadows, fingers haphazardly typing random phone numbers into their keyboard and blind-siding unsuspecting people with their scripted sales pitch.  And as much as we despise what they represent, they are merely doing a job.  They are collecting a paycheck.  But at some point during their work day, they become desensitized to reality.  They become so immersed in that script and they no longer have the free will to listen and respond appropriately.

telemarketing

(image courtesy of Google)

My mom has lived alone since my dad passed away in 2006.  She received a phone call the other day from an unrecognized number, but she picked it up anyway.  The person on the other end of the phone asked for my father.   My mom told the caller that my father was deceased and the caller simply replied, “I’ll call him again some other time”, and the call ended.  I may not be the most intelligent person on the planet, but I’m pretty sure he’ll still be deceased the next time they call.  Or perhaps this particular company has a listed number for Heaven and, in that case, I would love to see the long distance charges for that call.

I have been one of the fortunate ones and have not be inundated with telemarketing calls since I gave up my land line.  My cell phone has been safe thus far, but I do miss the moments of trying to confuse those callers and rouse them from their hypnotic state.  I would ask them personal questions about themselves and then would inquire as to whether there was an inconvenient time for them that I could call them back.

What is your favorite way to handle telemarketing calls?

The Bones of Life

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We all need three bones to survive, a wishbone, a backbone and a funny bone.  It may seem like a uninspired observation, but those bones really brings us to the essence of making the most of our lives. These three bones, in their simplicity, outline what really should be important to us as individuals.

A wishbone will keep our imagination and hopes alive.  It gives us permission to dream and it keeps those visions alive and breathing within us.  The moment that we don’t bother to dream any more about what is still possible is the moment that the biggest and most youthful part of us dies.  Dreams are the rainbow of our soul and they give us that straw that we can grasp when reality overwhelms us.

Our backbone will lend us strength to persevere.  Life can’t always be about dreams and rainbows.  Developing a strong backbone will help guide us through those difficult and traumatic times and help develop a real sense of self.  Having the fortitude to put enough faith in ourselves makes our backbone that much stronger and makes us able to cope with the concrete that paves the path of our lives.

Our funny bone will give us the perspective to let the will of our wishbone and our backbone blend into a harmonious and happy medium.  There is a fine balance between reality and comedy, and it is that comedy that will bring that panorama of our world into a spectrum of colors that will be objective, yet frivolous.  Maintaining that sense of humor can only help get us through this journey with a sense of the childhood wonder and laughter that we all want so desperately to hold onto.

Take good care of those three bones.  They build the foundation of who we are and where we want to go.  And just remember, if they break, any bone can always mend with the proper care and attention.