%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| PROMPT March 25th Whatās the best or worst practical joke that youāve played on someone or that was played on you? Well, my brother and I thought it to be hilarious if we refilled Dad's glass beer bottles with tap water and hammered the metal cap back on. Ah, Dad probably humoured our pitiful attempts to trick him. The battered cap must've been a clear give-away. My kids and I have hurried into a restaurant to request a no-smoking table . Then we hid the smoker's cigarette package and his lighter inside a paper napkin dispenser right on the table. Did he really not see his cigs nestled amongst the white napkins? At a restaurant when our three children were elementary school age, my hubby ordered three 'brown cows' for them. The waitress reappeared with the adult liquor version of 'Brown Cows.' Had she never heard of chocolate milk being called 'brown cow?' Someone, a complete stranger, substituted salt for white sugar at a local store and I purchased it. Haha, whomever you are. I brought home a six-pound bag of a white crystalline substance and poured it into my sugar canister. On Christmas day, I mixed up pancakes from scratch and my youngest tasted them first. Even with maple syrup they were salty. She then stirred two teaspoons of the fake sugar into her cup of tea. Blecch! Gag! When I was pregnant with my first child and as big as a house, my baby sister decided to prank me. At eleven, she could not appreciate how difficult it is for a pregnant woman to deal with footwear. At that stage, while standing I could not make visual contact with my feet. They existed and carried on out of sight. It is far from easy to pull on shoes with that resisting mound thwarting your considered efforts. Imagine a firm beach ball stuffed under your shirt as you huff and puff. After my visit concluded, I struggled to cram my foot into a winter boot. I pushed. I stood up and stomped the foot. Nope, my foot would not, could not enter the boot. Had my feet grown since I'd arrived? Oh no, were my feet also swollen? I heard Sherry trying to stifle laughter as she watched me intently. Hubby reached down and picked up the uncooperative boot. From within he pulled out a tennis ball and lobbed it at my sister. Haha, not. |
| PROMPT March 24th Write about some of your most memorable vacations. Where did you go? Who were you with? What was your favorite part of the trip? Family trips, specifically camping excursions are most memorable. Nothing else promotes togetherness quite like it. When I was a youngster, my parents, three siblings and I, plus two dogs first attempted camping in a tent. I remember it resembled a circus thing of canvas all green and yellow stripes. In no way did it blend into the Northern Ontario forest campsite and I'm sure the local wildlife viewed it as a pop-up food source. Many a night, I heard foraging raccoons squabbling over our scraps. Striking a tent, especially a new one and therefore unknown is an exercise in patience. Specific metal poles must be coaxed through their respective slots. We learned that a tent has a front and a rear. Poles bend. Poles sway. The corners of the tent need to be pegged into the ground. There really should not be anything lumpy, or bumpy under the floor such as branches, or rocks. Dogs do not respect the no-walking across the tent while it's helpless upon the earth rule. The zipper is not a toy even though it's within reach on the flap. Waking up to our first official morning as campers in May, we discovered snow upon the ground. Of course, none of our clothing had been packed with the return of winter in mind. Crammed, I mean cuddled together in our temporary shelter, we had not noticed the temperature drop. It is known as roughing it. Starting a fire to cook breakfast proved difficult, but not impossible. I appreciated the toast created over a round metal ring and the minor burns were worth it. During that same weekend, one of our German Shepherds pestered an ornery skunk and desperately needed a bath. My father made an emergency foray into a nearby village to purchase cans of tomato juice which we used to douse the sorry dog. I fell asleep that night next to a damp, snoring canine who perfumed the air with eau de skunk and notes of pizza sauce. Hubby and I recreated this family fun with our own three children and two dogs. Ah, there's something nostalgic about the aroma of damp dogs and wood smoke. We shared our escapades and many campfires with friends. During one such getaway, my eldest slugged her friend across the head with a broken wooden baseball bat she found. No, it was not a deliberate attack. Valerie stepped behind Carrie just as she swung at the ball. Nothing is more chilling than hearing your eldest scream she's killed Valerie. Oh, blood certainly made it seem as if this girl had died. My hubby and her mother whisked Val to a country doctor who performed a miracle with sixty plus facial stitches. When she returned later that evening just in time for a fireworks display, poor Val resembled a prize fighter with dark purple bruises, swelling, an eye swollen shut, and the stark line of stitches tracked across her fair face. During another unforgettable weekend, my son, Christopher found himself trapped within a de-commissioned army tank. Yep, this campground proudly displayed an old metal tank upon a cement platform and kids would climb up inside to explore. My eldest alerted me to her brother's plight by simply telling me he was stuck. For some strange reason, I interpreted this to mean kids would not let him leave the tank. I soon discovered that no, he really and truly was stuck up inside. I had to prostrate myself and shimmy under the tank. I next had to climb up inside to see my son all bug-eyed and perspiring with his arm buried to his shoulder in what I perceived to be an exhaust port. Of course, I did not believe my eyes and I tried to extricate him with a tug, but, no, he was wedged tight. Within minutes we were joined in our cramped quarters by off duty volunteer firemen who'd also been camping nearby. They brought cooking oil and dish soap donated by fellow holidayers that only drenched us and did not free Chris. Our ears were assaulted by the echoing hammering of an impact gun attempting to cut its way into the one tank wall. Shoulder to shoulder with these take charge strangers, I suggested that we ask for a doctor to come and break my son's arm. Drastic, yes, but I wanted him freed. A doctor did squish in with us to sedate Chris and dislocate his arm. A relieved Chris was whisked away and I soon wriggled out. We were met by a huge cheering crowd, an ambulance with strobing lights, an immense fire truck, a couple of police cars also with flashing red and blue lights, and a distinct line of yellow 'Do Not Cross' tape. I was nudged to the open back doors of the ambulance and boosted up inside. Chris and I were slimy and dripping with sweat, grease, cooking oil, and soap, but we were out of that infernal tank. Whew! Camping is occasionally a wee bit nerve-wracking. During another campout, my youngest fell off a boat moored at a dock. We parents could not see her in the murky water and my hubby fell in, too. He'd leaned against a collapsible railing which is what we suspected Danielle did. On his downward plummet, he struck our daughter who was rising to the surface. The two of them were bundled up in blankets and placed before a roaring fire to recuperate. From this scare, we learned to expect anything and always pack extra gear. One jacket and one pair of shoes may not be enough. Be prepared. For us, this is an omen. Anyway, we survived to camp another day and we still camp as a family years later. We have more memories to create. |
| PROMPT March 23rd What do you do to improve your mood when you are sad? If you are frustrated or angry, what is your secret to feeling better? When I'm feeling blue and the logistics of a face-to-face meeting are insurmountable, I treat myself to a Facetime visit. It's all so Jetson'ish, but I can see a familiar visage as we speak. As a matter of fact, I heard the distinct warble that announces such a splendid phone call just a few moments ago. I answered to be greeted by the grinning ,close-up face of my two-year old grandgiggle, Alexandra. She burbled, "Nanna!" and then scampered out of visual range. I watched her twirl and skip as the phone's screen sought her out and followed her. In the kitchen, she built a tower from canned and bottled goods she swiped from a corner cupboard. With an "oh no" and one sweep of her arm, Alexandra knocked her creation to the floor. Via the camera scan, I chased rolling cans and I glimpsed a blur of the ceiling. After a bit of coaxing, she returned everything to its rightful shelf while muttering, "thank you." I heard and witnessed her search for 'chat', a pink, scraggly cat. She dragged a favourite pink blanket behind her. While my daughter, Danielle and I chatted, Alexandra plopped herself in her mother's lap for a brief thumb-sucking break. Recharged she jumped and rolled across the couch. She returned to stare into the phone and contort her face into a few skewed poses to hear me laugh. She is working on a wink. After a few 'byes', I took the hint and bid my daughter and grandgiggle adieu. What a great mood enhancement without the four-hour drive. I'll travel in person for Easter. Dancing, or what I as a klutz refer to as dancing, and belting out song lyrics to upbeat music never fails to improve my melancholy. Most likely my increased heart rate and gasping for air add to my euphoria. Just being grateful that my breathing eventually returns to normal banishes any blue emotions. If I experience anger, or frustration, I force myself to get moving. Yep, I punish my poor, unprepared muscles. There's nothing like a brisk march when the ol' blood is boiling. It might as well pump for a good reason. I try not to throw things. This is usually a regrettable reaction that only leads to self-anger as I clean, repair, replace the airborne objects. Flying missiles fail to solve anything. Now, having said this, I must admit to one moment of passionate fury. Many years ago, my hubby restored a jeep for his brother. For months, he welded, sanded and painted in our garage. One fine morning, Tim, my bro-in-law, confronted me and I lost it. Suffice it to say, I'd discovered some 'irregularities', financial irregularities instigated by Tim. I demanded that he remove his jeep from 'my' property, but before he could do so, I exploded. Only one last piece remained to be installed on that finished vehicle and it stood leaning against a wall. I picked up the brand new windshield and let it drop on the driveway, smashing it to smithereens. Tim had to reverse over that broken glass. It felt so satisfying! The shattered glass still covered the asphalt when my husband returned home and this clean-up became one I didn't mind at all. Temper, temper... |
| PROMPT March 22nd Write about your earliest memory. Try to describe it in as much detail as possible. Memory is fluid. It ebbs and flows. It shimmers and shape-shifts. Sometimes it's murky. Sometimes it floats to the surface unbidden and then it meanders in slow-moving circles. Memory may be a nagging snippet of loose thread pulled from a snagged sleeve. Has a hole been formed? How? Where is that sleeve? When did this happen? Why this thread, this sleeve? Some memories burst forth as blinding flashbacks, all kinetic energy and echoing noise. Burned gunpowder assaults the nose. I squint in the brightness. Sunlight dances and glimmers all around me as I try to touch it. Something tickles my chin. Warmth caresses my cheeks, and my hair is tugged and tousled. I am seated and struggling to maintain my balance. A force nudges me, pushes me, rocks me. I kick my bare feet and a grittiness scrubs my toes. With some effort, I reach down to squish this new roughish texture between my fingers. Raising my bare arm water droplets plink down onto my upturned forehead and I blink as they trickle from my eyelashes and down my cheek. I strike the cool water churning it into mini waves. I am splattered by wet splashes, plonks, splats, ker-plunks. There, my earliest memory is of me becoming and enjoying being a water baby. I've never feared or disliked water. |
| March 21st Prompt: What food or dish have you never eaten, but would like to try? Hmmm, I will answer I dunno. Oh, this is not because I am a fussy eater. Really, I will try anything at least once. I have tasted disgusting cucumbers more than once to my gagging horror and their flavour has not improved. So, anything with cucumbers in it will never feature on my must try list. Who was the monster who suggested they'd be yummy in a sandwich? Salads do not need them. Did I mention I like most anything edible? In my culinary escapades I've sampled and enjoyed haggis. This name I admit is more palatable than blood pudding. Granted this dish is not easy on the eyes, but I can attest to its deliciousness. Being adventurous I've also sampled beef tongue and if cooked properly, this delicacy melts in the mouth. Yes, I also like kidney and liver. I love spicy fare, food with a kick. This means I tend to enjoy curries. So many spices are aromatic and tempt me before my taste buds meet them. Peppers, such as habanero and jalapeƱo enhance a meal. Growing up, I happily ate the food my diverse neighbours created whether that was Jamaican, German, Portuguese, Italian, or Greek to name a few. In more recent years, I've discovered Thai dishes and I would never turn them down. So, no, I cannot think of a food I'd like to try. I follow the see food diet. I eat what I see and yes, that includes actual seafood. |
| MARCH 20TH PROMPT:What are your favourite movie genres? Share some recommendations. I love comedies. There are many that never fail to make me laugh. Familiar favourites are Police Academy, Weekend at Bernie's, The Princess Bride, anything by Mel Brooks, and more. |
| PROMPT March 19th How are you different now than you were in the year 2010? What have been the most significant changes in your life in the last ten years? The last ten years have produced some inevitable changes. I am big sister to one less sibling. I am an orphan now. My parents died in a five year span. Grandgiggle number three joined our mob. Three girls now call me Nanna. Never again will there ever be a dull moment. I've amassed an ever-expanding library of digital photos. For several years, we've maintained a "poor man's cottage" ,a trailer / RV at a permanent campsite which attracts visitors both of the familial and the friend variety. I've dabbled in a bit of travelling and upgraded my passport to a ten-year version. I contribute to a monthly newspaper. I discovered WDC. I write more. My physical body has most definitely aged especially my cantankerous knees. In the past six years, I've endured four surgeries upon my left knee. During the third operation, I bid my birth knee adieu and adopted a replacement model. The right knee doesn't have much of a warranty either, but it will wait its turn for a better option. It survived a rebuild when I was seventeen and that has helped me to limp along. I have adapted to the electronic/gadget way of life. I possess both a home computer, a cellphone and a tablet. I stay in touch with options. I may call, text, e-mail, or instant- message my 'contacts.' Occasionally, I compose a hand-written letter and send it off via snail mail. Hubby and I down-sized from a house to a rented apartment. With no maintenance worries we can now lock the door and hit the road any time we feel the urge to get away. Before making this move, we purged, but most of the books insisted upon remaining with us. Sometimes, that ten-year span seems like a drop in the bucket. Memories vie for attention and not all of them retain a distinct time frame. Remember when? Did that really happen ten, five, or two years ago? |
| PROMPT March 18th If you were hired to show tourists what life is really like where you live, what would you show them or have them do? "Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Jeffries. I see you found our little slice of heaven without too much trouble I trust." "Well yes we did, but nobody told me it was such a bloody long drive sir." "Now, now, we only claim to be within driving distance of Toronto. We never said we were right next door. Remind me again. You reserved the lakefront cottage, did you not? Did you remember to pack your woolies? No? No matter, I can turn up the heat." "Do you always have this much snow in March? At home, the trees are budding." "In answer to your query madam, yes. Winter isn't finished with us yet. Mother Nature doesn't keep a calendar up here. Now, are you ready for your first excursion? I thought you'd like to visit the Machar Mall." "Do I have time to powder my nose and apply fresh lipstick?" "Well, I'm not going to stop you, but around these parts we don't stand on ceremony." "Pardon?" "Oh, we don't make a fuss. We're a come as you are crowd. I'd suggest you bring a camera though." "To a mall? How odd." "Yep, right here is the Machar Mall and I know it's not much to look at, but it's all ours. Here, let me steer you to the best seat in the house so to speak." "But, but, this is nothing but a landfill!" "No, no, technically it's a dump. We have a sense of humour in these parts. Hey, I suggest you don't make any sudden moves." "Eek! Is that a bear?" "Sorry, did I not caution you to be quiet? There are three bears not too far off, black bears." "I can see that, but why are we here? They are wild animals are they not?" "Last time anybody checked, them bears did not live in town. Are you pointing your camera? They'll be moseying on soon for a nap." "Need I point out that your brochure guaranteed we'd see wildlife? This is highly unorthodox." "Did you, or did you not just see some bears? Oh, look up in that evergreen. Do you see the eagles? Where to next? Would you like to see a moose up close and personal? I know just the road where they come out at dusk to lick the road salt. Come on!" |
| PROMPT March 17th Pretend that you have found a four-leaf clover that will bring you extraordinary good luck for exactly one day. Write about your lucky day. I groaned and rolled onto my backside. The large, scraggy mutt that had knocked me to the ground nuzzled my cheek and panted in my ear. With some effort, I pushed away his slobbering tongued head before he drooled all over me. As my vision cleared, I noticed a loose shoe lace and I reached to re-tie it. Adding to my ringing ears, a whine caused me to wince. I stomped my foot in hopes of shooing the clingy dog. Lifting my foot, the greenery I'd crushed sprang up save for one wee sprig. My nemesis sniffed it and I reacted by snatching it out of his reach. Imagine my surprise to be clutching a genuine four-leaf clover. Had I found the ultimate good luck charm? Were my fortunes about to improve? My first thoughts urged me to protect the talisman, so I reached into a pocket. Just in time, I felt the new, ragged tear. With exaggerated care, my fingers searched a second pocket and deemed it sound. Withdrawing my empty hand, a damp nose grazed it. I swiped my skin across a pant leg and flung out my arm with a command. "Go! Get away!" The mutt cocked his impressive head and stared. I struggled to my feet brushing dirt and leaves from my clothing. Forgetting why I'd been in the park, I stumbled towards the street. Glancing over my shoulder, I glimpsed my hulking furry shadow. I quickened my step, but he kept pace with me. Why did he insist upon following me? Without stopping, I lurched off the curb. Something struck me from behind and arms flailing I thudded to the pavement. Horns blared. Tires screeched. Voices screamed and shouted. A rough tongue swabbed my face and I forced my eyes open. A mass of matted fur lay across my heaving chest. "Sir? Sir are you all right?" "You sure are lucky mister. That cab just missed you." "You must have a horse shoe, or a four-leaf clover in your pocket. That was a close call." "I saw it with my own eyes. Your dog jumped up and knocked you down. What is he, an Irish Wolfhound?" With shaking hands I ruffled the warm form protecting my body. The darkest brown eyes I'd ever seen stared into my own bewildered ones. Had this canine chosen me? "Hey, what's your dog's name? I'd like to shake his paw." My voice rasped, "Lucky, his name is Lucky." |
| PROMPT March 16th What lesson do you remember most vividly from your childhood? . I'm surprised I did not suffer any residual brain damage when I navigated my childhood. At least, I believe most of my faculties lived to blunder along. I'm not bragging per se, yet I learned to balance atop a careening bicycle free of any safety gear whatsoever. No helmet cinched under my chin and bobbed along. No elbow or knee pads cushioned my sharpest and most vulnerable joints. Have I mentioned bell bottoms, the flared denim jeans I stuffed myself into? Most of those flares were so exaggerated, my jeans could've subbed as the mainsail for a sail boat. Oh, and my sneakers came equipped with extra-long shoe laces that refused to stay knotted. They preferred to drag. Are you getting the picture? Apparently, I was setting myself up for the perfect storm, or calamity. I learned a few valuable life lessons which I repeated as my fractures, road rash, and contusions can verify. I discovered that what goes up must come down. I met gravity more than once. I proved speed is a contributing factor in most accidents. I relived the physics mainstay. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Yep, flares and shoelaces are not ideal biking gear. Maybe it's the law of attraction, but they could not resist the lure of the chain. An entanglement ensued. Imagine my surprise, especially the first time my bike stopped without warning and I felt myself jet-propelled to the unforgiving road. Now, I have realized that much of my childhood mishaps just happened to be physics lessons. Unwittingly, I recreated the formula for velocity. A falling object, me, is 'v.' The letter 'g' is free fall acceleration while a 't' stands for fall time measured in seconds. Oh, and 'Vo' is initial velocity. This is velocity: v=Vo + gt. I can attest to falls occurring in seconds, perhaps even micro seconds. I also lived and breathed impact mechanics on a daily basis. "An impact is a high force or shock applied over a short time period when two or more bodies collide." Oh, I can attest to the 'bodies' colliding. My body, my bike, and the pavement know all about shock and collisions. This science also alludes to resilient materials having a better impact resistance. Is that what my infrastructure, my bones, and my surface material, my skin proved to be? |
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