Pieces of Me

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Taking the day off yesterday was just what the doctor ordered.   I had put my faith in Mother Nature to provide some sun for my entertainment, but she must have been busy shining elsewhere.  Left to my own devices, I decided to delve into the creative aspects of my life that I have shelved for too many years.  Writing is a cathartic and brilliant way to release the thoughts in my head, but getting back into a tactile artistic passion that seems to have been forgotten was a great way to spend the afternoon.

I used to love calligraphy when I was in high school and I was always doing one form of craft or another, so a cloudy afternoon was spent indoors with some paint, some brushes and a piece of wood.  I had been trying for a while to set aside some time to create a new sign for the end of my driveway and yesterday inspiration struck and creativity flowed.  This is the beginning of the sign that I hope to finish today.

new sign

In getting back into the crafty aspect of myself, I found a piece of me that had been missing.  I began to realize how many of those small enjoyments I have been ignoring over the years because I was letting work and the needs of others take priority.  I vowed to myself that I will start to put my needs first and make time to do the things that I enjoy.  I only get to live this life once and I don’t want to look back with regret wondering why I let my life pass me by and I didn’t participate as much as I could.  I don’t want to be on the sidelines doing things for other people and not be in the game.

Today is a beautiful, sunny day and I will be on my deck wrapped in a warm sweater with a paint brush in my hand.  Today I’m back in the game.

Another trip around the sun

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Today is an important day in my life…..today I am acutely aware of the number of years I have been on this ever revolving planet.  A birthday is not a number to me, but a moment to celebrate the day I entered this life. (and it’s 44, but I still feel 29 so that counts, right?…..right?)

I celebrate with many people, some I know well, some I’ve never met, but there is one important celebration that mirrors mine – my Winnie The Pooh.  My mom created a stuffed version of the beloved character for me when I turned one and, to this day, I still have that somewhat tattered foam-filled creature.  McCall’s created a Disney series of patterns in the 1960’s that she duplicated for my brother for his first birthday and again, almost four years later, for my birthday.

He has seen his share of joys and tragedies.  He has undergone facial reconstruction and some botched plastic surgery (thanks to an over-excitable Labrador Retriever that belonged to a roommate) but he still never fails to hang in there to share year after year with me. He and I have weathered many successes and many ominous periods together, but he still remains the same source of comfort he has always been.

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Although it may seem somewhat childish to hang onto a toy that I have long outgrown, Winnie still holds an immeasurable value in my life. He represents a part of my childhood that I hold dear and he continues to represent the faith that I hold in my friendships.  He and I may not be able to communicate on the level that is deemed normal for friends but I still feel comfortable confiding in him, knowing that he will always be there to listen when I need him.

Happy birthday Winnie…..may we continue on our journey and have a very long life together!!

Good deeds do not go unnoticed

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The slight shimmer of light caught her eye.  She slowed her pace and bent down to get a closer look at the small item that was reflecting the sunlight.  The square brown patch in the slush was embossed with gold initials on the corner.  She swept the snow from around the edges and picked up the water-logged wallet.  It was thick and seemed to be bulging with a collection of colorful bills.  She opened the fold of the wallet to a rainbow of Canadian money starting from twenties and ending with thousand dollar bills.  The discovery shocked her and she quickly put the wallet in her purse before anyone noticed what she had unearthed.

canadianMoney

(image credit: centromotel.com)

With her head down she made her way through the crowd on the sidewalk and into her office.  She sat quietly in her cubicle, turning the wallet over in her hands and battling with the angel and the demon on her opposite shoulders.  They were both full of very strong opinions regarding her discovery and made no qualms about sharing their thoughts.  She listened intently to both arguments before making her judgement.

Her boss understood her need to leave the office briefly and after struggling to get back into her winter coat, she made her way to the local police station to report her find.  The officer logged her information and got her hopes up slightly by telling her if the wallet was not claimed within thirty days, the contents would belong to her.  She left the station with her head held high, knowing she had done the right thing.

A week later she received a call from the police station asking her to come in as soon as possible.  She arrived and was handed an envelope.  The lucky circumstance of finding the wallet and turning it in resulted in a reward of five thousand dollars.  The angel on her shoulder simply smiled and nodded.

~

This post was written for the weekly Trifecta Challenge: 

On to the weekly prompt. Pay attention to the third definition, as always. Good lucky!

LUCKY (adjective)

1: having good luck
2: happening by chance : fortuitous
3: producing or resulting in good by chance : favorable

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.
  • If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

Where did I go?

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Perhaps it is the late arrival of Spring weather and the snow still blanketing my lawn.  Or perhaps it’s the amount of work I have piled on my desk that seems to keep accumulating.  Regardless of the reason, I don’t feel like myself.  I don’t feel any impending sense of doom, I just feel like I’m suffocating, drowning in the things that are going on around me and I can’t seem to come up for air.

It’s a disturbing feeling for me.  I’ve always been the one to hit things head on and face each challenge as it comes.  I’ve never wallowed in self-doubt or self-pity, but these last few weeks have painted an Picasso-like portrait of a person quite different from the paint-by-numbers picture I’ve seen in the mirror all my life.  Each day I would fill in the missing colors and paint the spots with the hue that best represents my mood.   Generally the colors were bright and cheerful.

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I thought I was back on the path to being myself again on Sunday after sitting on my deck and soaking up some sun for an hour.  As I lazily looked up into the afternoon sky, the ring around the sun seemed to reflect my feeling of something lurking out there, waiting to descend.  The old saying goes “ring around the sun or moon, means snow or rain are coming soon”.  One quick look at the weather forecast confirms possible accumulation of 2 cm of snow on my birthday.

I am hoping the anticipated appearance of Spring will happen soon.  Once the aroma of freshly awakened earth and the sound of spring birds start to permeate the air, I am confident that my mood will sing and soar with those birds.

If anyone has any nice spring weather you can spare – I’d be happy to send you my address.  🙂

Putting some life back in my life

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I finally took my own advice.  I threw caution to the wind and ignored the voices in my head telling me to go in to work on a Sunday to try to get caught up.  Instead, I took my mom out shopping, chopped the rest of the snow and ice from my deck and am about to embark on a lazy afternoon sitting in the very welcome sunshine.  Perhaps I will find myself with my Kindle in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.  My options are limitless.  I may even dig out my fire pit and recreate this lovely scene below.  There is nothing better than coming inside after a day of fresh air and smelling like freshly burned wood.

new pics 026

Those inner voices are now quieted (with some well placed duct tape) and my head is free of disruptions.  I have always had a difficult time silencing those inner distractions and letting myself just relax and enjoy the day, but I’m taking back control of my thoughts.  Today is a day I put some real life back into my life and breath in the fresh spring air, feel the warmth of the sun kissing my cheeks and watch the day go by from the comfort of my deck chair.

Happy Sunday everyone!

Always look on the bright side of life

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In my limited pool of knowledge, I have found that there are two types of people in the world – those who love Monty Python, and those who don’t.  That may be a very broad assumption, and one that has been purely based on my personal experience and nothing else.  The people I have encountered have very distinct opinions on the subject and sway very heavily to one side when it comes to the British comedy.  You may be perched on the fence, or have no opinion at all, but this post is based on the myriad of people who have shared their strong opinion with me.

It is not a subject I bring up haphazardly in conversation, but there comes the inevitable moment when I unwittingly kick a reference to Monty Python into a conversation.  It either completely misses  the uprights and lands uselessly in a blank faced crowd, or it sails right down the middle, scores and the crowd jumps to its feet.  It can be the most innocent of comments but Monty Python fans recognize it immediately and a look of happiness glazes their face when they identify with one of their own.  In mere seconds, they have responded with another piece of Python repartee and an entirely new conversation spins in a warped direction.

silly walk

(photo credit: tumblr.com)

I wasn’t introduced to the genius of Monty Python until much later in my life, but I certainly made up for lost time by watching those comedic geniuses incessantly.  Python fans seem to have an undefinable bond.  Without even beginning a conversation, I have had friends walk past me in public places doing their best impression of the Minister of Silly Walks and I can’t contain my laughter.  When I lived in Halifax, we would have Monty Python nights and the group of friends who were as fixated as we were would gather around our television set.  We were all able to quote 90% of the lines in each movie (sad, but true) and we even used small wooden salad bowls to emulate the coconut horse hooves in the Holy Grail.  Obsessed?  Perhaps.  But those are some of my fondest memories.

There are nights when I am feeling less than my usual exuberant self and Monty Python seems to be the only thing that can bring me out of my funk.  The Meaning of Life finds its way into my DVD player, the machine that goes “PING” pings and all is right in my world once again.

Time to weigh in friends – what is your quest?  What is your favorite color?  Which side of Python are you on?

Excuse me, I’m trying to scurry here….

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The Daily Prompt has asked this question: Do parties and crowds fill you with energy, or send you scurrying for peace and quiet?

When I was younger crowds never bothered me.  I went to concerts and enjoyed the combined energy that only a crowd could produce.  But as I’ve gotten older, I have achieved an extreme level of distaste for feeling like a turtle caught in a school of fish.

turtle-amongst-school-of-fish

(photo credit: twistedsifter.com)

That mass of people who hurtle themselves in all directions seem to have no awareness of those around them and give me the sense that I have lost control of my own trajectory.  Malls are especially unsettling for me and I avoid them like the plague, especially during the holidays.  Although there is greater risk of credit cards being compromised with the advancement of hacker technology, I am happy to sit in the comfort of my own home and shop online for those gifts that cannot be purchased locally.

A small party with an intimate group of friends is bliss.  I tend to relax and am able to be myself, allowing my goofy personality to take center stage and I feel more comfortable asserting my need to be the life of the party.  That assertion becomes non-existent in large groups and I get a growing sense of discomfort feeling like that lost turtle again.

Give me a subdued night with good friends, good food and good wine any day.  My life now is about developing those close relationships with people who matter to me.  I don’t miss the feeling of being a pinball in an arena sized game and playing hide and seek with friends in a crowd of 20,000 people.

The cover looked so good

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The bar was at capacity and the air was electric.  The band was loud and the crowd was euphoric, floating on the notes of the songs and dancing like nobody was watching.

He saw me first.  I was at the bar doing everything I could to get the bartender’s attention when he casually slipped in beside me.  With one flick of his hand he elicited a response from the bartender and my drink was ordered for me.  It wasn’t what I was drinking, but I guess he assumed I would enjoy it because it was free.

He was attractive and seemed to ooze charm.  We became engaged in conversation and I was drawn in by his deep blue eyes.  There was a merriment in those eyes and his words fell on deaf ears until I regained my composure and began to participate in the rhetoric.  My attempts to interject words into his monologue, however, were in vain and all I could do was sip the foreign liquid in my glass, nod my head and smile.  I did manage to utter a few “mmm hmmm’s” to make it seem like I was mildly interested.

His inflated ego began to infect my mood.  The conversation revolved solely around him and the walls felt like they were closing in.  I was beginning to suffocate as he used all the available air to continue to talk about himself.  I slowly began to back away from the bar and I don’t even think he noticed.  I lost myself in the swaying crowd and found my way to the door.  As I glanced back to look at him one more time, he was still talking but there was nobody there to listen.

The outward look of him held so much promise.  Too bad the meat of his story contained only one word repeatedly typed on every page – me, me, me.  I should know better than to judge a book by its cover.

~

This post was written for the Trifecta Challenge:

Please pay attention to the third definition this week.  If your post has to do with bacteria or disease, you’ve likely misused the word.

INFECT
1: to contaminate with a disease-producing substance or agent (as bacteria)
2a : to communicate a pathogen or a disease to
b : of a pathogenic organism : to invade (an individual or organ) usually by penetration
c : of a computer virus : to become transmitted and copied to (as a computer)
3a : contaminate, corrupt <the inflated writing that infects such stories>  
b : to work upon or seize upon so as to induce sympathy, belief, or support <trying to infect their salespeople with their enthusiasm>

I need smaller plates

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I tend to not go to restaurants that offer buffets.  Not because I don’t find the vast selection appealing but because I find I put too much on my plate, too many different things, and I can’t focus my attention on the things I find most appetizing.  I tend to spend more time separating the food into different piles and less time zoning in on what I really wanted to have in the first place.

Lately, I have been finding my life reflecting the same level of stress I feel at a buffet, but only because I’ve loaded too many tasks on my plate and I feel full before I even tackle the meat of what lies before me.  The conglomeration of work and home life has been piled higher on my plate and I’ve reached the point that I am creating those contrasting piles and having to decide which flavor has become more important.

large plate of food

(photo credit: kahakaikitchen.blogspot.com)

If I try to tackle the dish as a whole, I begin to lose myself in the process and spend more time mixing up the components only to create a false sense of accomplishment.  I push the food from one side of the plate to the other, but the illusion of clearing the items from the plate is just that, an illusion.  The same items still exist, they are just located in different places on that same large plate.

I need to learn to take a moment to separate the items on my plate and create a series of smaller plates.  Being able to prioritize the importance of the items on each plate will help me work through them one at a time and the daunting portions will become easier to tackle.  I need to digest each plate one bite at a time.  If I can learn to see it for the fractions of all of its parts instead of just seeing a mountain of food, I can savor each morsel that appeals to me and slowly chew through the rest that keeps getting added to that plate.  I’m already full, but the service never ends!

What do the plates in your life look like?

My life is a romantic comedy, minus the romance

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Romance_Is_In_The_Air_2_by_welshdragon

(photo credit: hdw.eweb4.com)

For the past few months, I have been inspired by the genius idea from one Mr. Edward Hotspur.  He has encouraged us to write about romance, whether it is poetry, short fiction or a personal reflection.  I love everything that romance embodies, but the posts I have written that were spurred on by the Monday challenge were all pulled from the vault of my memories, fond recollections or wishes for the future.  My life, although loosely resembling a romantic comedy, currently contains no romance.

My daily existence does round out the rest of the requirements for the romantic comedy.  I’ve got some unique personality traits that could create a funny story line, I’ve got some quirky friends that make an appearance every few episodes, I have a job that allows me some creative material and a dog that could steal the show.

Living in a small town doesn’t afford too many opportunities to stumble upon romance.  I’ve caved a couple of times and tried online dating sites to see who may be lurking out there, but even the sights that promise to deliver matches based on specific traits that I have listed as important seem to fish in the shallow end of that dating pool.  I’m amazed at some of the “matches” that are sent my way and the online romantic search ends before it really begins.  Even though I have moments of bravery thinking I will give it another shot, I recall this experience and run, screaming, away from my laptop.

Although I’m fine being on my own, I find inspiration in the stories and poetry I read on this blog site written by strangers and by new friends.  They are happy to shout their romantic thoughts and experiences and it makes me want to continue the quest for that ever elusive romance.  The dream of him is still alive and I will continue to hold that dream close.  If we don’t embrace the darkness, we will never be able to see the stars.