The Hanging – Friday Fictioneers

With joy I write this from my brand new, old computer!  Yes. Many, MANY thanks to my brother-in-law, Chris, for helping me set up Mick’s computer that had been collecting dust on the floor of the office for 1 1/2 years and for saving my old pictures from my now-defunct one.

Back to business.. Thanks to the 45-years-married wonderful couple of Rochelle and Jan for the joint effort this week.  I know, I know… it is Friday Fictioneers… but, I can’t help it if every photo Rochelle choses brings me down memory lane!!  I haven’t even bothered to change the names of the players…😀

Click on the blue frog if you want to read more stories and hey, why don’t you play? Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to!

jan-wayne-fields

Word count:  100

Genre:  Memoir

The Hanging

Holding his hand over his throat, he repeatedly took quick peeks in the truck mirror, immediately putting his hand back, while opening and closing his mouth, sticking out his tongue, making choking sounds.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tracy asked.

“I’m afraid to look,” said Mick, sheepishly.

“What? Show me!”

He pulled away his hand, revealing a red welt all across his throat.

“Jeez!  What the hell did you do to yourself this time?”

“I took my bike to go to the bathroom and cut across the neighbours’ site as they’re gone now.  The idiot left behind his clothesline!”

 

 

When One Door Opens… – Friday Fictioneers

My computer will surely send me over the deep end before long.  It is old and tired and not all that willing to cooperate – more than trying my patience!  Took me than one reboot to get this baby out but finally, here’s my version!  Thank you Rochelle, for your tireless hosting of Friday Fictioneers.  Thank you c.e.ayr for this fabulous picture.  How did you know I love doors?

Click on the blue frog to read more stories… and if you want to add your own, which would be fabulous, click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.

ceayr-purple-door

Word count:  100

Genre:  Fiction

When One Door Opens...

She strolled, admiring doorways, a form of meditation, if you will.  She never could sit, pretzel-like, eyes closed, hands out in that famous yoga pose, seeking wisdom.  How the hell were you supposed to empty your mind and breathe when you were cramping up all over the place or going numb?  No, much better to walk…

Alexander Graham Bell’s: “When one door closes another door opens, but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us,” came to mind.

Smiling, she stepped over the chain.

 

Musical Dreams – Friday Fictioneers

It was a day of lollygagging and coming back to this image, deciding on which direction to take it.  I am using the excuse that I am still a little ill from a cold so it was okay to remain in pyjamas all day.  Maybe that is what permitted me to take the direction I did.  Thank you Björn Rudberg for such a beautiful image.  Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting this fabulous group of writers week after week!

Click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs should you wish to participate.  If not, click on the blue frog to read more interpretations of this lovely photograh.

© Björn Rudberg

Word Count: 100

Genre:  Fiction

Musical Dreams

She closed her eyes as she listened to Yo-Yo Ma’s recording of Bach’s Cello Suite No.1 – Prelude.  It never failed to bring a feeling of complete peace over her body.  The cello was her favourite instrument in the orchestra.  She could feel the melancholic, rich sound in the deepest part of her gut, her heart, her soul.

Why ever did she never learn to play?  It was way too late now, she was convinced.  No one in their right mind, wth no clue how to even read music, would think of taking up an instrument in her fifties?  Would they?

Standing Out – Friday Fictioneers

Apologies ahead of time for this week’s submission.  I am sick like a dog:  At worst, food poisoning, at best, stomach flu. Either way, the results are the same.  In between bedrest and attempts at not getting dehydrated, this is the best I could come up with!

Thank you always to Rochelle for hosting this shindig and this week, thank you to Sandra Crook for supplying this lovely photo.

Should you want to join in, click on Rochelle’s name for all the deets and should you simply want to read other stories, click on the blue frog! 

sandra-crook

Word Count: 100

Genre:  Fiction

Standing Out

It never failed.  Every time the trio got together, two were dressed in black or variations of grey and one was all colourful.  She couldn’t help herself and she didn’t do it to stand out.  She was the flower amidst the greys of the world!

Over the years she noticed that in group pictures, there she was, standing out again:  pink, yellow, orange, bright blue. Why was that?  Did she subconsciously do it?  It’s not like she didn’t have dark colours in her closet.

That said, there was not a gathering was she not invited to.  Apparently colour is good.

 

Can’t Hurt To Look – Friday Fictioneers

The day is grey and Zeke will have to wait for his walk.  I’m still not convinced the weatherman is telling the truth and no rain shall fall…  Until I am convinced, I much prefer to write my interpretation of this photo below, supplied by Jean L. Hays (please, only use her photo for this exercise and none other and give credit where it is due) and offering so many possibilities, than to take my chances.  I sincerely hope you don’t mind that I again went the dialogue route.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the leader of this group, and a fabulous one at that, and should you be interested, click on her name for the rules and regs. and, if you just want to read other variations on this theme, click on the blue frog! 

jean-l-hays

Copyright © Jean L. Hays

Word count:  100

Genre:  Fiction

Can’t Hurt To Look

They drove along the famous Route 66, a comfortable silence between them.  They spotted it at the same time.

“Oh damn,” she thought, here we go again!”

“Oh look!  Maybe they have something interesting!” he exclaimed, pulling over.

Resigned, she followed him.

“Babe, there isn’t even one single Coca Cola item outside.  What makes you think there will be anything interesting within?  I should think if they had anything of worth, it would be displayed.”

With a grin, he led her inside.  “Sometimes you just have to do a little digging to find that special something.

“I found you, didn’t I?”

 

Friendship – Friday Fictioneers

Another week, another Friday Fictioneers.  As always, a huge thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, author, illustrator, and all-round lovely person, celebrating her fourth anniversary as leader of this group of characters.  Thank you to Peter Abbey for supplying a photo that took me back!

Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to or click on the Blue frog to read more stores based on this photo or, go crazy, add your own!

Word count: 100

Genre: Memoire

Friendship

 

peter-abbey11

Copyright Peter Abbey

We met on her birthday. September 18, 1981.  She had just turned 17.

How many times I entered the locker room to the sound of “Daaaaaaa-yo! Me say Daaaaaaa-aaaa-aaaa-yo!  Dale no come ‘coz she’s gone to French!” sung at the top of their lungs.  Roxanne and Caroline, long-time friends.

Somehow, it became Roxanne and me.

Never could I have guessed how deep our friendship would become:  love, heartbreak, marriages, births of children, death, heartache, divorce and laughter, so much laughter.  There for each other through thick and thin.

And then it wasn’t.  A fence went up.  And now it’s too late.  She’s gone.

 

Cook in Tuscany – To the Farm! Then Hunt For Truffles!

Apologies for the delay… Major problemos with my computer and I just couldn’t upload photos!  What’s the point of tormenting you with my trip if I can’t supply the photos, eh?😀

Darn, with each new day came new adventures but also brought us closer to the end.  This day was a fun one, for sure!  We were off to Podere il Casale, a 100% organic, self-sufficient working farm where sheep and goats were raised to make the famous Pecorino cheese.  As well, the outdoor wood-burning stove was ideal for bread making.  Aww shucks.  We were going to learn all about cheese and how to make Tuscan bread and foccacia. How sad.  Broke my heart, really.😀

The owners of the farm, a lovely couple named Sandra and Ulisse (originally from Switzerland) were wonderful hosts.  Ulisse is a self-taught cheese master and Sandra does hostess duties.

Allora, first things first.  As bread and foccacia need time to rise, first thing to do was to get the breads started.  Piero, our bread teacher was so very sweet and charming. Most of us were put on foccacia duty while four were put on Tuscan bread duty.  Mixing and kneading and resting – interesting note:  as salt was once so expensive it was used as currency, the Tuscans did not salt their bread.  They’ve kept up the practice.

While the dough was doing its magic, Sandra took us on a tour of the farm, introducing us to all the animals and showing us her impressive garden, then showing us where the cheese is made and stored to age.  The farm is fully functional and many young people were on hand doing their stages, learning all the inner-workings.

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We then hung out with the Cheese Doctor, Ulisse.  It was amazing to watch the cheese come to life before our eyes.  There is an obvious joy to his doing his craft.  To think he is self-taught and is now one of the top pecorino cheese guys in all of Tuscany!

Time to bake our foccacias! Piero showed us how to roll out our dough, prick it all over with a fork, pour olive oil over it and smooth it all over, sprinkle with fresh rosemary and salt… except Piero filled the salt bowl with sugar!  We couldn’t figure out why it was so sweet… That situation got rectified soon after amidst lots of laughter

So, of course, now that we have opened out appetites, it was time for lunch!  This ended up being a vegetarian meal, ending with a sampling of some 15 different cheeses!  Is there anything better than dining al fresco?

As if the day wasn’t already fabulous, we were off to truffle hunt with PierPaolo (not sure how he spells his name) and his interpretor, the lovely, Geraldine. When not giving a tour, PierPaolo takes all four dogs out with him but since he had all of us to worry about, he only brought two!  It was the funniest thing to see these dogs get all excited and not want to give up their truffles!

After such an exciting day, it was back “home” at La Costa for pizza and salads and frankly, I think we’d had quite a bit of excitement for the day!