May I Take Your Order? – Friday Fictioneers

I saw this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt photo and a story came to me immeedjatly!  But then I had to wait to come home from work to be able to write it.  Was worried I might forget it (like I usually do), but no!  Thanks, always to Rochelle for hosting this party and this week, thanks go to Lisa Fox for the use of this adorable photo.  To learn how to play along, just click on Lisa’s photo to be brought to Rochelle’s blog for the rules and regs.  Or, if you already know how, then click on my roller-skating frog to be brought to the link-up station!

Skating Wonderfrog!! | Лягушка

Click me to order more stories

Lisa rolled towards her customer.  “What d’you want?”

“That’s not how you say it!”

“Sorry.  May I take your order?”

“Two chocolate-chip cookies and glass of milk, please.”

“Anything else?”

“No, that’s all.”

Lisa pressed some buttons and squeezed the parakeet’s beak.

She roller-skated pushed her way to the steps, scrambled up the stairs.

“Mooooo-ooom!  I need two chocolate-chip cookies and a glass of milk for car Seven.”

“Anything else?”

“Can I have some too?”

“Of course.  But take your customer’s first, slowly.”


“That will be two squeaky toys, please.”

“Here you go.”

“Can I sit with you?”



I Am Disconcerted

Last May, on the 8th to be precise, Gigi wrote a post on how today’s food is poisoning us.  She had bought a sweet and a regular potato and after weeks and weeks, they did not spoil.  They did not sprout, no eyes, no nothing.  I figured she had found a great way to preserve them, but no.  Then, ten days later, she shared a photo of the said regular potato stating it was still exactly the same, one month later.

It got me to pondering about the food I eat.  I realise it’s a choice we make when shopping to take the time and read the labels.  Though, to be honest, how many low or even mid-level incomes can afford to go all-organic?  I would love to be able to for all produce but I just can’t.

I decided to look things up to see the what’s what on the laws here.  It seems ours here in Canada are similar to the ones in the States.  Producers are not obliged to label products as GMO though they can voluntarily do so, and, as specified below, they are not allowed to lie, be deceptive or misleading. From the Government of Canada website:

“Labelling GM foods

There are no specific laws in Canada about labelling GM foods differently. They are labelled like any other food because our safety assessments have found them to be as safe and nutritious as non-GM foods.

It is not mandatory to identify the method of production, including genetic modification, used to develop a food product.

All food products, whether organic or non-organic, must comply with the labelling rules of the Food and Drugs Act and the Safe Food for Canadians Act. These Acts require that labels be:

  • truthful
  • not deceptive
  • not misleading
  • not an untrue impression of the food’s:
    • merit
    • safety
    • quality

In addition, special labelling is required for all foods, including GM foods, where there are health and safety concerns such as:

  • the potential to cause allergic reactions
  • changes to the composition of the food
  • changes to the nutritional quality of the food

Such labelling is required to alert consumers or susceptible groups in the population.

Health Canada determines what type of information is needed on the label to help consumers make appropriate food choices.”

Where am I going with all this?

I made myself a green smoothie after my run on Friday morning.  To my spinach, frozen mangoes, oat milk and protein powder, I added about one-quarter of an apple.  I wrapped up the rest of the apple in plastic wrap, thinking I would have it sometime during the day at work but ended up not eating it.  I brought it home, put it on the counter to eventually put it in the fridge, I’m not sure when.

On Sunday, I was feeling a little peckish and I thought I’d have my apple with some peanut butter.  I was certain the cut sides would look like all brown and oxidized (enzymic browning) and need to be cut off. Ummmm…. not quite.  For this photo, I did slice off a paper thin piece to see the difference…

It’s barely discernable!  How can that be and should it be so?  And how safe is it really in the long run?  We buy produce for the week and want it to last as long as possible because it is unrealistic for most working families to shop every other day.  Farmers buy the GMO seeds because they can save on pesticides and get more of a guarantee their crops will make it to the stores. I can’t even fault them for that as they need to make a living.  Organic farming costs more and I don’t know what percentage they lose to whatever pests are out there.

I know I like to encourage our local farms (yet I am pretty sure the ones around my area are not organic).  That little stand outside the grocery store selling this season’s first strawberries (no indication of being organic) that come right from the farm is great and all but $9 for what looks like is maybe a pint?  They better bloody well be.


I just spent a ridiculous amount of time searching the internets to see if there are organic farms in my area. The only way to get organic produce right from the farm, is to sign up for a weekly basket plan for X number of weeks.  You choose from a list of what’s available and then you pick it up at one of the drop off centres.

Let’s see how my own garden grows this year…

Weekend Writing Prompt #313 – Stitch

Wow!  This has to be the shortest WWP to date!  If not, maybe I missed it 😉  I remember a 12-word one…  Obviously, I could not resist and I wasn’t overly imaginative but hey… What else you gonna do with ten?

WWP 313 Stitch


Will you ever finish?

Only two inches of stitches left!


Pieces of My Father in Song

Back in March, there was a dVerse challenge to use a list of titles of songs with the words Dad, daddy or father in them.  I started to write and then realised, no… I must save this one for today.  I am still struggling with the fact that it has been ten years today since my father chose to stop “our” suffering.


Today marks the tenth anniversary

of  My old man leaving this earth on his terms

His sideways glance and grimace at such term

meant, of course, to discourage us,

didn’t work


My father’s eyes twinkled blue

with mirth (mostly)

or turned steely grey

in anger (rarely)

How did none of us inherit them?


My Daddy’s hands were the standard

all my boyfriends’ were judged against

(few could compare)

His were capable of many things

and in my father’s house

was proof of his prowess


He always thought he wanted boys

to pass on his name, father to son

but soon realised how much he was blessed

to have not one daddy’s little girl, but three


My dance with my father was as special to me

as it was for both of my sisters

and he never hesitated to say

Your daddy loves you


For ten years, I have missed you, Daddy

and still go to pick up the phone

to share news or ask your opinion

So here is a a song for dad

I think of you every time I hear it




Way back on Monday, Lisa hosted Prosery on dVerse.  We are to use the following chosen line from a poem in a piece of prose, not more than 144 words.  The rule is that we cannot insert any words within the quote but we are allowed to change the punctuation.  It’s one of my favourite of the dVerse challenges.

On this day without a date,
On a back street, dusky
— Charles Simic, from My Friend Someone

Over time, we become used to certain things.  Big. Little.  Some don’t even warrant a glance, never mind a thought.  We take them for granted.  Is it human nature to do so?  What, for many, in the beginning, thrilled us to have someone else do, we now expect. When do we become so nonchalant about our circumstances that we no longer pay attention and appreciate the little everyday things that are done for us?  It just is.  And then one day it isn’t.

Today, on this day without a date, on a back street, dusky, and away from the madding crowd, I ponder as I stroll.  My to-do list is ever lengthening and now, too late, I realise I didn’t express my appreciation enough.

With each task I accomplish, once done by another, I feel pride mixed with sorrow, and not a little remorse.

*One of the many things I have had to learn to do… 

Daydreaming – Friday Fictioneers

Very sneaky, Rochelle!  You go to great lengths to get me to play Friday Fictioneers!  And it worked, too!  If you’re inspired to write a 100-word story based on my photo (thanks for choosing it, my friend), please do so by clicking on the frog below and adding your link.  G’head, it’s loads of fun!

"Frog flying in the sky with clouds " Stock image and royalty-free ...

Click to play


She stepped away from her cottage onto the grass, cool and springy beneath her feet. She lay on a small hill, crossed her feet and interlaced her fingers to cradle her head.  Gazing up at the blue sky, her thoughts drifted with the clouds, dreamily.  What I wouldn’t give to be able to ride one of those clouds or up and fly to diverse destinations with the birds.  To experience new cultures, go on adventures, to see—


Right on her forehead.

“Thanks a lot!” she shouted to the now empty sky.  “This better be a sign of good luck!”


If You Could Read My Mind, Love

“If you could read my mind, love
What a tale my thoughts could tell…

~Gordon Lightfoot

I’m so tired I can’t focus on anything so I decide not to resist and go to bed before 9:30

I brush my teeth, wash my face do my nightly five gratitudes, turn off the light and snuggle into my sheets

And wait for Morpheus to come

And wait.  And breathe deeply

I turn over, flip onto my back – that never works – flip to the other side

Do breathing exercises:  inhale four counts, hold four counts, exhale four counts

Repeat and yawn during the hold.

For fucks sakes!  Sleep already! I’m obviously tired.

I’m not even thinking of anything in particular, either


Go to the bathroom and glance at clock on way back

Really? Eleven PM?  An hour and a half I’ve been trying?

I give in and pick up my phone and start scrolling



Gordon Lightfoot passed away a couple of hours ago

I must be getting older as I find 84 to be too young

I go to YouTube and start listening to

If You Could Read My Mind

followed by

Early Morning Rain


Rainy Day People

Choosing them one by one and holding the phone to my ear

Did She Remember My Name


Next thing I know, it’s midnight and I’m feeling that each song

has something that touches me deeply.

Good song writers do that.

“So if you should ask me what secrets I hide
I’m only your lover, don’t make me decide”

        ~ Gordon Lightfoot