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The simplicity of my day to day. |
This is where I write my thoughts, feelings and my daily trials, tribulations and happy things
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Words 343
Prompt 7. Sept 7. Due 11.59 pm today! The last one. *Bigsmile* The world is not an ideal place for lots of people. What can YOU do to make it better? To even look beyond your own family, friends, town, suburb, or even State, is to be overwhelmed. The problems of the world are too much to bear. Sometimes one can become defeated and give up. You may think there’s nothing you could possibly do to improve our messed up world. The problems such as climate change, world starvation and disease are surely too complex for one person’s actions make a difference. But what if we start by looking closer to home, perhaps starting with our own family structures? Just imagine for one minute if we all stopped messing up our own little corner of this precious world. If we managed our own mess. We could start by not polluting our local environment. Dispose of our own waste such as plastics. We could stop the oceans from being choked by plastic by simply taking it home and disposing it safely there. We could save energy by using power and water efficiently, maybe wearing a few extra layers when it’s cold before turning on heaters. Shorter showers, saving water, and power. Food waste is another concern in a world where so many of the population are starving for lack of food. There is no shortage of food in the world but there is bad distribution. Let’s only buy what we really need and share what we don’t use. Help, volunteer at food banks, soup kitchens and care for the homeless and hungry in our own districts. We can ensure our elderly are safe by visiting regularly to check on their welfare. Say hello to a neighbour, you might be the only person they speak to that day. Try to keep regular contact to help where you can. So there are numerous simple ways we can get involved in saving our planet. If we all did these simple, easy ways, the earth would thank you. |
Prompt 6. Sept 6. Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets. Paul Tournier Can you share a secret? Small or big, tell us. No? Tell us why not. Oh my goodness, these prompts of yours jump around all over the place. I’ve gone from writing about fire breathing dragons to being asked to divulge my deepest, darkest secrets. My children were all very open with me, even as teenagers. They would tell me things all the time, always with the ‘don’t tell dad,’ at the end. I wished sometimes they were not so willing to tell me about the things they’d done. It was just to absolve them of guilt I suppose, but then they passed the worry on to me. There were lots of times I did keep things to myself as I knew the disapproval from their father wasn’t going to be conducive to a happy household and I saved them from time in their rooms or a week’s grounding. My theory is never tell a secret to anyone if you really don’t want it sharing, because inevitably the cat will be let out of the bag. I hate secrets, even at Christmas and birthdays. If someone tells me about a present they’ve bought but then says ‘I can’t tell you what it is because it’s a secret,” then that is simply irritating. Do I have a secret? I suppose we all must surely have something we’ll take to the grave. It could be something we’re not actually proud of or even something we really did faithfully swear to never reveal to a living soul. I wish I did have some secret desire, or even had a secret hoard of cash I’ve not told anyone about! The trouble with me though is that I’m an open book, the least secretive person alive. |
Prompt 5. Sept 5.
384 The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go. Dr. Seuss Tell us more about the writer in you. Plans/Aspirations/Fears/Status etc? I am not an aspirational writer by any means. I began my writing journey when I was seventy. It seemed like a milestone when I thought I should write down my life story for my family. I had no idea about computers at all and went to a local computer classes for seniors. I am known by my family as a bit of a Pollyanna. My saying has always been, Always look on the Bright Side of Life. I even have a gold bracelet inscribed with that saying on it. There’s even talk of the song from The Life of Brian of the same name being my funeral song! Anyway, after blood sweat and tears I produced my life story called, Always Look on the. Right Side of Life. My granddaughter made the cover and each of the family received a copy. That was ten years ago and the writing bug had bitten me. That was when I joined a local writing group. On the first day I was so nervous. Who was I who thought she might be able to write? I began to get more confidence as the weeks and months went by. After several years my sights went to a Writing Centre where people came to stay from all over the country. Again I was nervous and felt like an imposter when I joined a ladies only group. I’ve been there for five years now and feel as if I am an integral member. About the same time I discovered WdC and that was the beginning of feeling as if I could call myself a writer. In the years since I found WdC I know I’ve improved my skills, mostly with the help of other members as they’ve reviewed, suggested and praised. I’ve no aspirations other than to keep coming up with new stories to write. As for fears I’m too old to be scared anymore. If people don’t want to read anything I’ve written, then that’s ok. Status? The only status I seek is to be okay with how my life is going. |
Prompt: Since this week is Birthday week at WDC, write something about Birthdays for your Blog entry today. Birthdays. They are the most important days of a child’s life. A year when you’re small is forever. You count your age in Quarters! ‘I’m eight and three quarter, you know.’ A child will brag about getting older. Going through teenage hood, age is all encompassing because at sixteen you can begin driving lesson. 17 you can get your licence and eighteen? Well that’s when life truly begins, isn’t it? 21 still is important because? I’m actually not sure these days. It used to be the day you became an adult but now scientists say the human brain isn’t fully developed until 25. Then we have the birthday which ends in a zero. 30, 40, when life begins properly, 50, getting old. 60, you’re getting older. 70, one foot in the grave. 80, that’s me.😂 |
Brian, the young blacksmith in the village of Yap, worked hard each and every day. He was struggling though to keep his business thriving after his father’s death. The villagers were dubious to hire Brian to make a special gift for their wives or girlfriends as they didn’t think he had the craftsmanship of his old man. This was a shame as Brian, prided himself on his talent. One day feeling deeply sorry for himself, feeling as if he had let the memory of his father down, he wandered through the forest contemplating his future. He had planned to ask his girlfriend, Maddie, to marry him in the spring, but the lack of business and so the lack of money, stopped him from asking her. The sun was trying to break through the morning fog. As he walked, he wondered what he ought to do to regain the trust of the villagers. There might be a gimmick he hadn’t yet thought of which would stop his customers leaving the village and taking their business to ‘Jacob’s Ironmongery’ in the next town. As he walked, his head hung low, eyes to the winding path, he saw a bright white stone. Even in the gloom it shone. He bent down to pick it up but soon noticed it wasn’t a stone but an egg. It was nothing like any other egg he had ever seen before. The shell felt tough, not fragile like the eggs he used to collect in the spring from nests high in trees when he a boy. He shook it, there was something in there. He tucked into his pocket and took it home. Putting it on to a south facing window ledge, where it would get the most sunshine, he promptly forgot all about it. The next morning, he heard a cheeping noise coming from the kitchen and saw to his disbelief a tiny dragon, complete with wings. The dragon whispered to Brian and told him he was magic and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Brian was agog, thought he was having a nervous breakdown. The dragon told him his name was Alf and sent by Brian’s father to help. He suggested that he could be the gimmick Brian had been searching for. He could breathe fire instead of using the forge. People could come and watch as the pair manufactured beautiful objects using Alf’s fire and Brian’s skill. And it came to reality that Brian advertised his new apprentice. Alf the fire eating dragon. Alf grew bigger each day and his fire blowing ability grew with him. People had to shield themselves from the heat. Brian’s business grew exponentially and before long he and Maddie could afford to get married. Of course, Alf was the best man at the wedding. Prompt: https://www.writing.com/main/images/action/display/ver/1725345464/item_id/232472... |
Brian, the young blacksmith in the village of Yap, worked hard each and every day. He was struggling though to keep his business thriving after his father’s death. The villagers were dubious to hire Brian, as they didn’t think he had the craftsmanship of his old man. This was a shame as Brian prided himself on his talents . One day feeling deeply sorry for himself, because it was as if he had let the memory of his father down. He wandered through the forest contemplating his future. He had planned to ask his girlfriend, Maddie, to marry him in the spring, but the lack of business and so the lack of money, stopped him from asking her. The sun was trying to break through the morning fog. As he walked, he wondered what he ought to do to regain the trust of the villagers. There could be a gimmick he hadn’t yet thought of which would stop his customers leaving the village and taking their business to ‘Jacob’s Ironmongery’ in the next town. He walked, head hung low, eyes to the winding path until he saw a bright white stone. Even in the gloom it shone. He bent down to pick it up but soon noticed it wasn’t a stone but an egg. It was nothing like any other egg he had ever seen before. The shell felt tough, not fragile like the eggs he used to collect in the spring from nests high in trees when he a boy. He shook it, there was something in there. He tucked into his pocket and took it home. Putting it on to a south facing window ledge, where it would get the most sunshine, he promptly forgot all about it. One morning he heard a cheeping noise coming from the kitchen and saw to his disbelief a tiny dragon, complete with wings. The dragon whispered to Brian and told him he was magic and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Brian was agog, thought he was having a nervous breakdown. The dragon told him his name was Alf and sent by Brian’s father to help. He suggested that he could be the gimmick Brian had been searching for. He could breathe fire instead of using the forge. People could come and watch as the pair manufactured beautiful objects using Alf’s fire and Brian’s skill. And it came to reality that Brian advertised his new apprentice, Alf the fire eating dragon. Alf grew bigger each day and his fire blowing ability grew with him. People had to shield themselves from the heat. Brian’s business grew exponentially and before long he and Maddie could afford to get married. Of course, Alf was the best man at the wedding. |
At where you live, what are your neighbors like? What do you think makes a good neighbor? Do you have any dramatic, funny, or annoying incidents about your neighbors that you'd like to share? We have lived in the same neighbourhood for over twenty five years. We know most of our neighbours, some more than others. At the bottom of our long driveway we have our friend Margaret. She is 92. She lives with her unmarried daughter, Alison. They have a funny relationship, loving but feisty. I love Margaret, even though she’s only twelve years older than me, I think of her as my mother. There is another neighbour who I have been meeting up with for coffee for almost as long as I’ve lived there. We have walked several of my dogs and put the world to rights whilst we walk for years! Of course there are the cranky ones, Mrs Ball for instance, she must be nice in some way because she puts water out in the park for the birds. She has a couple of cats, but doesn’t like humans very much. Her son lives next door to her and is a Batchelor. He is just as grumpy as his mother. However we all muck along together. Tolerating some and loving others. |
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Prompt 3. Sept 3. You can achieve all the things you want to do, but it's much better to do it with loved ones around you; family and friends, people that you care about that can help you on the way and can celebrate you, and you can enjoy the journey. ~John Lasseter Your most significant other(s) is/are....! Write about your loved ones (furry or not). My most significant other is my husband. We have been married for 59 years. We were engaged for three years before getting wed and we met three years before then! So we’ve actually been together for 65 years, so how can he be anything other than significant? We had three children who are scattered across Australia. One daughter stayed in Perth where we are, and has recently been living with us with her husband whilst they wait for their new house to be available. Those three months have been fine, we have all got on well. They are moving out this weekend and it’ll be strange to be just me and hubby alone again. One son lives in the tropical rainforest in Far North Queensland. We miss seeing him, his wife and little boy on a regular basis but it’s an amazing place to visit. Our other daughter moved to Queensland after her marriage breakdown and we talk to her most days on the phone. The other treasures in our life are our six grandchildren and six great grandchildren. We don’t get to see them often as everyone seems to have such busy lives these days. I try to keep abreast of all their activities and progress though. I can’t leave this blog without talking about my dog. She is nearly twelve, a Weinmarana called Lucy, and is the love of our lives. She’s slowing down these days, as are we. We’ve had a few health scares with her recently but she has bounced back each time we think she’s leaving us. At eighty years of age we look back at all the highs and lows life has thrown at us. There have been plenty of each. We left our homeland when our oldest daughter was just three years old. It was a very difficult transition as we left all our families behind. I felt bad for the kids that they had no extended family and grandparents. However, as the years have passed and the grandchildren were born they know nothing about those difficult times. They have always had grandparents and great grandparents and a wonderful lifestyle. When I look at them I know we made the right decision to leave the UK. My parents eventually came out here to live for their last years too. Family is everything to me. |
Words 511 Prompt 2. Sept 2. Tell us about an earthshaking Life-or-Death situation in your life. What happened, how did it change you, if at all? My husband and I were travelling in the Philippines. We’d spent time in the capital Manila and were going to take a short flight to the island of Cebu. There had been talk of a Hurricane approaching for several days, but when I called the airport on the morning of our flight I was told there had been few cancellations and our flight was definitely departing on time. When we entered the terminal it was obvious many flights had in fact been cancelled but ours wasn’t one of them. So we checked in and waited nervously as the light outside darkened to almost black. People were leaving in droves and yet the light on the departure board was still lit up and saying ‘Cebu departure. On Time.’ We queued up to board the plane. By this time the wind was at a fever pitch, the rain almost horizontal. The big glass door to the tarmac was being manned by two people attempting to stop it flinging open in the wind. We were escorted to the small plane in twos and threes by the airport staff. The rain was torrential. At last the plane was full and we nervously awaited take off. Some passengers were praying. Other than whispered prayers there was no sound. We asked the stewards if it was safe to fly in this weather and they simply smiled serenely. At last the captain made the wise call to abandon ship, so to speak, and we all traipsed off and made the treacherous return to the terminal. By this time it was obvious we were in danger if we made an attempt to leave the terminal, but soon there were very few people left. We were given a ticket to fly for the following day, so we left our luggage at the airport and left. My husband, John, went looking for a taxi, I sheltered in a shop outside the airport terminal attempting to keep out of the way of flying missiles and sheets of tin, which were threatening to slice off my head. At last John turned up with a driver. We asked him to take us to a place of safety. We were dropped off at what seemed to be a hotel and we breathed a sigh of relief. The place had no power or water because of the storm and were given a candle to take to our windowless room. There we stayed, hunkered down whilst a hurricane roared overhead. We learned later, the place was actually a brothel. The following morning we left after a nightmare night and taxied to the airport. The destruction was mind blowing. Huge billboards lay across cars, power lines were down and roads flooded. Our flight was rescheduled for later that day and eventually we made it out to Cebu. There had been hundreds of deaths we later heard on the news and we were very lucky not to be one of the statistics. |
Prompt 1. Sept 1. It's the site's 24th Anniversary. Tell us about your love or fondness of Writing.com. What makes this a wonderful place for writers? Why are you (still) here? I visit WdC almost every day and have since the day I joined in 2018. I had been looking for an on line writing group for some time when I discovered this site. I had started to write when I turned seventy. I wrote a little book for the family which I called ‘Always look on the bright side.’ It was a bit of a struggle as I had little computing skills and had to learn how to incorporate photos as well as trying to remember the chronological order of my life. However it gave me a taste of writing. When I first began my WdC journey I found it difficult to navigate and I am sure I’d have given up if it wasn’t for all the help I received from Hannah. She showed me so many things but best of all she showed me how to review the work of others in a kindly but helpful way. During Covid time, WdC was my saviour in lockdown. I think it was then I began to write more and enter more contests. The first time I placed in an official Writing contest and won 500,000 points it was as if I’d won the world. 😂 As for why I stay around? I think I’m actually addicted to WdC. There are so many other worse things I could be addicted to so I’m happy with my addiction. I have met so many people here. It’s like having hundreds of pen pals from all over the world. I enjoy the fact that one never knows where someone actually lives, its as if we’re all in the same comfortable room. I am from Australia and one of a handful I think but what I’ve discovered is that no matter where we live, we think, do and act the same way. There are few differences but they are all surface ones. I have found little judgment. I have only had one nasty review and that was years ago. However from that experience, and yes, that one sticks in my memory despite the many positive reviews I’ve received it reminds me to be kind. One vindictive, negative review, or comment can stop someone from writing ever again, so that person taught me a valuable lesson. Just be kind, we all started once. Thank you WdC for being a place where I can visit anytime, anywhere I might be. |