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 |   The simplicity of my day to day. |
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This is where I write my thoughts, feelings and my daily trials, tribulations and happy things
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| "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" DAY 3131 June 21. 2024 Have fun with this prompt: On your birthday, you miraculously survive a deadly car crash without a scratch. Later that week, you watch a small scratch heal and disappear right before your eyes. Where did this new power come from and what will you do with it? Oh my! How I’d love this power. I do hope on my upcoming birthday though that I’m not in a deadly car crash! I’m the slowest of healers these days. I take steroids every day for Polymyalgia Rheumatca and the effect has been very thin skin. The slightest bruise takes ages to get better. I said to my husband only this morning I’d give anything to be pain free. Of course I’m not alone and there are far worse cases than mine. I try not to complain but sometimes a good moan works wonders😂 Anyway what would I do with a healing power? The question should be what wouldn’t I give for such a power? I’d probably be selfish and cure myself first and then I’d just wave my magic fingers for anyone who needed my curing power. |
| "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 3130 June 20, 2024 Prompt: Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Write about this in your Blog entry today. The way I look at that prompt and attempt to take from it, is that when I looked at myself in the mirror this morning and sighed with dissatisfaction I realised this is the youngest I’ll ever be. Everyone goes on about my birthday in less than four weeks time when I’ll be eighty! I don’t want to be eighty and yet that’s being ungrateful. I can tell myself growing old is a privilege and it is! Yet there’s that dissatisfaction again. Actually I don’t mind it too much but it’s the aches and pains that detract from thoroughly enjoying the days. . So, today was the first day of the rest of my life? Of course it’s true, I know that, and yet it didn’t seem to be any different to yesterday and probably tomorrow. I do attempt to be more mindful as I’m reaching that milestone and attempt to go with the flow, not get anxious or frustrated as I may once have been. My husband and I usually have a laugh about something each day. We both have the same sense of humour and see the absurdity of life. Recently I’ve stopped worrying about money. I’m intent on simply enjoying our lives with what we have. There’s no way of accumulating any more anyway. So tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of my life. I’ll be one day older and hopefully one day wiser. |
| f "Blogging Circle of Friends " Day 3530 June 19, 2024 Prompt: What is your night time ritual like? Has it evolved with you over time? My bedtime routine is basically the same each night now. But of course over the years it’s differed greatly. I can just barely remember the wonderful sleeps I had when I was a teenager. I simply closed my eyes and slept until morning. Oh the bliss! Motherhood sleep years were almost non existent, you may as well ask “what’s sleep?” For years broken sleep was the norm as it is for most mothers. My first child didn’t sleep through the night until she was about four. By that time I had twins. One or other was awake all through the nights for several years. My son was a bedwetter until being about ten! Then came the years when my husband and I decided to sleep apart as we kept each other awake. I was sad to think it had come to it, but found sleeping in another room liberating. I could read until what time I desired. No moaning about turning the light off. Nowadays we’re old folks. We can’t stay up late, but we get up with the dawn. We watch tv together from 7 pm until about nine. Then we have our routine; We send the dog outside for a last pee and get her bed ready. (It has to be just so) 😂 Then I take half a sleeping pill otherwise I’d never get to sleep. I take medication and a glass of water to bed because I have to take it in the middle of the night which is a bit of a nuisance. I usually sit up in bed and do my blog or write. Close my eyes around 11.30. Then broken sleep until around six am. So sleep has been too hard to come by for most of my life and I envy those who can still sleep like a teenager. |
| The doorbell rings and your character answers it – finding nothing but an envelope with nothing on it. They open it and follow the instructions.... This is a story I wrote sometime ago which will fit the prompt. Enjoy. Ruby heard a rattle on the front door, “Who can this be?” She murmured, wrapping her silk Chinese robe tightly around her slim body. Cautiously she opened the door a little. “Yes, can I help you?” she asked the young man standing there, holding a small parcel. “Mrs Ruby Carstairs?” Ruby nodded and signed for the package, “Thank you,” she replied, closing the door. She looked at the writing on the brown wrapping paper recognising it to be her mother’s. “What’s this?” she wondered, opening it as she walked back to the dining table. She found a note inside which read: “I thought you’d be interested in reading this diary. It belonged to your grandfather. Please keep it safe.” Love Mum. Ruby held the black book, the soft leather felt warm beneath her hand, she was wondering why her mother would send it to her. She flicked through the pages; each page filled with small neat handwriting, written in German. Maybe that was why her mother had sent it to her, knowing Ruby could read German and speak the language fluently, having lived in Germany for a couple of years. Pouring herself a cup of tea, she sat down at the table and began to read the first page. Several hours later, she looked up at the clock on the wall, so engrossed in her Grandfather's words, she’d lost track of the hours, it was nearly midday. Ruby knew little of her Mother’s father, he’d died when she was a child. The only thing she knew was that he’d come to Australia after the Second World War, met her grandmother, and had several children, including Ruby’s mother. He’d written the diary over seven years, starting in 1939 up to 1946. His words fascinated Ruby as he spoke of how his country, Hungary, became under Romanian rule. Arrested as a Hungarian Nationalist for treason against the State, the authorities had thrown him into prison, and tortured him mercilessly. Afterwards in 1940 Bulgaria instituted an anti-Jewish legislation, her Grandfather became a government representative, and he was personally responsible for the deaths of thirty-four Jews. He had given the order for them to be taken deep into the mountains in the middle of winter, and to be abandoned there, to starve waist deep in snow. All this was documented by his own hand in the diary. It seemed he was proud of his actions, showing no remorse. This shocked Ruby, but somehow she couldn’t stop reading. The day turned to night as she read the tiny writing; as if her Grandfather didn’t want to waste paper, he’d crammed as many words as possible onto the yellowed pages. He related that after the war ended he became a wanted man, charged with the deaths of the thirty-four souls he’d sent to a certain death. He planned to escape the clutches of the Nazi Hunters, who were intent on bringing them to justice for the genocide of a nation. Falsifying his identity and papers, he arrived in Australia as a refugee, with a new name. David Kodak. Ruby closed the diary after reading the last entry. The resident owl, which lived in the oak tree outside her house, hooted. The sound surprised her, dragging her back to the present. Noticing it had become dark outside, she shivered, not simply with the cold air, but at the thought of being related to a murderer. She wondered if her mother knew what the diary contained. Ruby worried about the information she held in her hands. What should she do with it? Her mother needed to know, but what effect would it have on the family, knowing they had a monster for a father? She tried to remember what sort of man he had been, but her memory of him was sketchy. He’d died an old man thinking he’d got away with mass murder. Was it up to Ruby to expose him? Sitting on her bed, still in her dressing gown, her thoughts were with the people whom her grandfather had condemned to such a terrible end. Innocent men, women and children, unaware they were being led to their death. Anger filled her, she paced her bedroom, her hand on her heart, trying to calm herself. How she wished there was something that could change the past, make recompense somehow. There was a thumping sound outside her bedroom door. She wasn’t expecting her husband home tonight; he was away on business. Yet there it was again. Frozen and afraid to move, Ruby heard even more sounds, shuffling of feet, as if there was a gathering of people outside the door. “Hello?” Hearing only a whispering, slithering sound, she tried to sound brave. “I know you’re there, what do you want?” She cried out. No reply. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. Gathering her senses, she got up from her bed and opened the door. Stepping back quickly, she saw there was no one there, but could feel a sudden, immense wave of pressure pushing her backwards into her room. The air filled with an icy-cold mist which took on a human shape, which cloaked her body. Ruby felt overtaken by an energy she’d never before experienced. She fell backwards on the bed, her silk robe slid on to the floor. Giving a silent scream, she felt the souls of thirty-four spirits invade her body. Ruby realised as she departed this earth, her therapist had been mistaken when he spoke of there only being the here and now. There is retribution, someone has to pay, no matter how long it takes. |
| Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" DAY 3125 June 15 ,2024 Have fun with these words: temperament, determination, sensation, fleeting, energetic, Saturday, and beyond. Have fun with these words: temperament, determination, sensation, fleeting, energetic, Saturday, and beyond. Last Saturday, brought us some joy into our lives in the shape of a new baby girl. The sensations around birth are mixed. Excitement is tempered by concern for mother and child. Childbirth still is a dangerous business even these days. We lost a grandchild at 38 weeks of pregnancy when he was still born. Since then, I hold my breath each time a baby is born. However little Ava, great grandchild number six is here and as far as we can tell her temperament seems to be placid. Unlike her sister who came roaring into the world. Her sister two-year-old Evelyn is overly dramatic, energetic with a determination to succeed in everything she attempts. This can be difficult when she insists on doing everything for herself like getting dressed and her mother needs to get out of the house quickly. But as we who have raised our families know, childhood is fleeting, although it may not seem so at the time. We were often looking to a time beyond when the children are independent and have left home. When peace reigns and memories of those little children are all you have you might look back and wonder where all those years have gone. |
| Blogging Circle of Friends " Day 3525 June 13, 2024 Have fun with these words : pride, minister, exploit, heroin, scandal, aquarium, scan, fixture and define. Our Prime Minister takes pride in being “a man of the people.” He defines himself by his upbringing. His mother was the most important person in his life and he’s proud of the fact she was a single mother struggling to bring her son up alone. That’s why I like him, voted for him. There is no scandal in his background, what you see is what you get. Unlike the majority of politicians who exploit their positions and grab what they can while they are in power. Australia is known for its inability to keep a Prime Minister in power for very long. We seem to change them as often as a pair of socks! No one here gets a chance to settle in and become a fixture for too long. I think it’s a case of tall poppy syndrome, we simply don’t like people who think they’re above everyone else. It’s soon “off with their heads.” It’s been very much the same in the UK these past few years, there seems no stability any longer. Political figures are involved in sex scandals, drug taking, heroin habits and such. Where are our statesmen and women? Those who have the good of their country at heart. I don’t follow American politics very much, perhaps only to scan the headlines of the newspapers when Mr Trump is in news, as he seems to be most of the time, so I can’t really comment. I know people shake their heads and wonder who they can trust but with good reason. We’re all afraid to trust anyone or anything. We fear someone is trying to scam us- and guess what? They are! Well, after all this serious discussion, I’m off to the aquarium to watch the peaceful underwater world. But of course, they have their sharks there too. |
Prompt: How will you start your day? I start my day wondering how I’ll be feeling when I first step out of bed. Usually it’s painful until I get moving. After I’ve sort of loosened up a little I lay back on my bed and do my physiotherapy exercises. I then put the kettle on, have breakfast and watch all the bad news on tv. Usually before my surgery I’d walk with my husband four kilometres taking the dog for a walk, but these days I walk around the block. That is the start of my day and it’s usually still only eight am. After that? Well the day’s my oyster. |
| "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 3121--June 11, 2024 Prompt: Childhood Joys Do you think childhood is the most enjoyable time of life or are we reading too much into it? What joys do you remember from your own childhood? Remembering childhood is like trying to capture fog. It’s hard to grasp on to memory because what is actually true? I could ask my brothers about their memories of times when we growing up together and their memories would be so different from mine. When I have a memory I need to visualise the house I was living in it at the time. By doing that it gives me a ballpark figure of my age at he time. My first memories are in the house we lived in from birth to being seven. I can walk through that house in my mind’s eye but the memories are simply wisps. I am being perched on the top of the sideboard whilst my mother is standing on the table all because she saw a mouse! I’m crying in my bed because of a pain in my head. (my first migraine?) I’m sitting on steps in the garden staring at a spider catching a fly. I’m leaning over the railway bridge breathing in the steam from a steam train as it passes under. Yes I think those first seven years of my life were mostly happy and carefree. The second set of memories are from aged seven to fourteen. Stronger ones but still fragmented. This house was on a farm. A much larger house. Over those years I graduated from being a child to a teenager, even so none of that time is really clear. I’m seeing the house and garden for the first time and loving it. I’m collecting the eggs and being pecked by the broody hens. I’m watching the baby pigs being born. I’m sitting on my tree stump reading far away from anyone who might disturb me. I’m listen to my mother cry. (She had a nervous breakdown and cried a lot) I’m keeping out of the way of my dad who is shouting about not helping my mother and why weren’t we doing something useful! The next house we lived in was a corner store or delicatessen. Aged 14 to 18. End of my childhood. Not happy years. Too much responsibility for my age. My mother had a heart attack, nearly died when I was 15. My brother and I ran the shop. He was seventeen. Mum remained bed ridden at home and everything, being the only girl was left to me to do. Very clear memories and ones I choose not to think about too often. So to answer the prompt. I don’t think my childhood was all that happy. My children tell me theirs was so that gives me comfort. Of course my childhood started in 1944. An era so different to that of my children. A father at war for six years, a mother raising three children alone and who was ill most of the time. I truly believe most of our memories of childhood are misremembered or are those we think we remember from stories told to us. |
Prompt: "I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief." C.S. Lewis Can anger really mask grief or is it just a stage of it? What do you think? When someone is hurt, I think the first reaction is anger. I’ve seen it recently as my daughter has fallen to pieces after her relationship ended. It was sudden. He left whilst they were seemingly happy, leaving our daughter so confused. The first week she was full of anger. Lots of “how dare he treat me like this!” And “If he thinks I’ll have him back, he’s got another think coming.” But then came the grief. It’s been deep, dreadful to witness. She can no longer work. She stopped eating and has lost six kilos in 12 weeks. She cries all the time. She lives far away, but I speak to her for hours, letting her know life is still worth living. We worry she’ll not recover and I wonder if she really wants to. I wish the anger would return. |
| Use these words in your entry: bathtub, fill, customer, dictate, axis, essay, and dribble. It’s a wintery sort of day and just seeing the word bathtub makes me want a lovely long soak. I’d fill it to the brim with hot water and bubbles. There’d be no one to dictate or remind me that the price of electricity has just increased and I need to ration the amount of hot water. If it was summer a bathtub is the place to eat a peach and let the juice dribble down my chin into the water. I miss peaches. The constant barrage of bad news these days seems to be endless. Wars and famine and killings assault my senses each time I pick up a newspaper or turn the television on. Sometimes it feels as if the world is tilting on its axis as millions of people leave their homes and countries seeking refuge in a safer country. Yet where is there that will take them and give asylum? There are numerous essays written about over population and I agree there are too many people for this planet of ours. There is so little an individual can do to bring about change. We can only look locally to help where we can by trying to be nice and caring to the ones close to us, to support our local communities. When standing in a queue with other customers, smile at the checkout person, assist an older person who might be struggling, make your own life as good as it can be. Phew, I really need that soak. |
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