Itchin’ – Friday Fictioneers

I’d like to first offer my condolences to Liz on the loss of Don.  My deepest condolences to you. Sending much love your way.

Secondly, I must wish happy birthday to my sister Lisa… Happy birthday, Sis! I love you to bits!

And finally… welcome to Friday Fictioneers, a place where peeps gather round the fire tended by Rochelle every week.  Rochelle could not have made a better choice today (even if she didn’t know it at the time). I saw this and was immediately on a cruise in my mind… since we actually were on one, returning just before the shit officially hit the fan on Friday the thirteenth of March, 2020.  Lordy.  ‘Nuff of that. Click on the frog to play by adding the link to your 100-word story.  G’head. It’s a great way to learn how to trim the fat from your writing…

©Liz Young

Fall is here.

Yes, and it’s my favourite time of the year.

Mine, too.  The weather is perfect.  If it could only stay like this through till spring. Skip winter alltogether.

Not how it works in this neck, you know that.  Why bother harping on it?

Coz this is the time I start itchin’.

Itchin’?

Yeah. Itchin’ to book our next cruise for Spring Break. 

Hah! You just said fall is your favourite.  Enjoy it.  Why rush?

One word for you:  Planning ahead.

That’s two words.

Don’t be a smartass. Shall I call the sisters?

Duh! And don’t forget Mom!

 

I Love You, I Don’t Love You, I Don’t Know

The title may make me look confused, but I assure you, I am not. Not really.  You, my faithful peeps, know that I am not really one to bitch and moan too often.  (My sisters, you are not allowed to say a word!)  I rarely rant, even.  Rarely.

However.  Today, I shall let fly some words.  I know most of you are Bots so I’m frankly talking out of my arse, here.  Still. Let me just get it off my chest.  Those “likes” you bestow on my last twenty posts and then follow me?  That all arrive at the same time?  There ain’t no way in hell you read a single word.  All I know is my inbox and notification panel get filled up.  Which means the legit comments can get lost in the shuffle.  Which is something that grieves me. Tremendously.

And, I know it can be fun to get lost into an exchange between two peeps or more in the comment section.  You can’t help but be that proverbial fly on the wall… And that’s cool. Coz it’s a blog. Which means it’s out there for all and sundry to read and comment. It’s kinda the point, really.  I’ve done it myself.  Even ended up participating in said comments. And, again, all cool.

However, (yes, another ‘however’) when you start ‘liking’ each and every comment, having never even left a hello yourself?  All you’re doing is filing up my inbox and my notification panel!  See above note.  Never mind. I’ll repeat. It grieves me. Big time.

So, while I absolutely love exchanges – long, short, in-between, you, the fly just buzzing around, totes eavesdropping and not participating?  Can you do it without liking every single one?

Rant over.

And, since I wasn’t able to post this last night because I was too busy taking pics of the Harvest Moon and then playing with the images and then seeing it was getting late… here are a few that I really like.

Weekend Writing Prompt #227 – Ramshackle Housing

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.  I do love the word Ramshackle.  Thank you for hosting, Sammi.  I couldn’t help but think of Cuba.  A place with such welcoming and beautiful people.

wk 227 ramshackle

Wealthy tourists in their country, we couldn’t help but feel how much we were part of the “haves” of society.  How did they keep their smiles?

As our tour guide explained the history, the importance of the cigar industry, the education for one and all, the poverty, the losing of educated people (doctors, especially) to freer countries, I could hear the mixture of pride and anger and love for her country in her voice.

We drove by their ramshackle houses built aside and on top of each other and I wished for them.  Better. More. Choices. Possibilities.

True Reflections – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #112

This has been hanging out in my drafts since, well, forever!  I had trouble finding the original challenge since Crispina posted it last December… and I took my picture a few months ago, thinking, I seem to remember there being a puddle reflection back sometime ago.  I was right and here is the result.  Good thing Crisp insists there is no time limit 😉

 

There are those whose reflections are pristine:

perfection personified, not a flaw to be found.

Are they true?

Does the pretty exterior hide an ugly interior?

One should not be so quick to judge:

not the too pretty, nor the too plain

for neither may be truthful

The imperfect reflection

may actually hide

the real and honest beauty

hiding inside

When we stop judging the exterior

and take the time to learn what hides beneath,

both the pretty and the plain

can shine with their own version of beautiful

 

 

 

In a Barren Field – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #149

As many of you know, when I do decide to participate in Crispina’s challenge, I like to find a matching photo.  I can’t say that I’ve ever taken a picture of wind turbines, however, I was immediately reminded of a picture I once took in similar conditions. Always fun to get that muse going, isn’t it?

In a barren field, I look to my left

there is nothing

save for three mechanical trees

their metallic branches turning,

harnessing the wind

creating energy

Will more be planted?

 

In a barren field, I look to my right

there is nothing

save for one tree, its branches

stretching up, reaching

playing with the wind

creating energy

Will this one be replaced?

 

A Carnival of Colour

The lovely Resa is at it again!
You must follow along the latest AGM’s adventure!

Art Gowns

Welcome, welcome all, to A Carnival of Color! I’m Rene Rosso 🌹, and I present to you the most colour you will ever see on any catwalk, anywhere.

All hail our dahling Art Director Rebecca Budd! Wearing bias cut faux tartan print palazzo pants, with coordinated accessories, she has earned the feathers in her hat directing “A Carnival of Colour’!

“I’m honored to be here, & what a great day for us all! Colour is a critical component of our lives, and I am thrilled to present all the AGMs resplendent in their favourite colours from the crayon carousel!”

“First out on the runway is AGM Holly! Holly wears a feathery gown in milky hues of magenta, yellow, green and teal.”

SUDDENLY …. black and white flashes engulfed the venue. As AGM Holly exited the stage, her gown turned black, white and grey.

Stunned, but knowing the show must…

View original post 486 more words

Groovy is as Groovy Does

On Monday, for dVerse, it was Quadrille Monday (44 words, max), hosted by De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo.  We had to use the word “groove” or a version of it.  I’m way late to the party but on this morning’s walk to work, I encountered this lady and I suddenly felt like participating.  And like my title says, groovy is as groovy does 😉

I cannot help but think of Iris Apfel who, at 100 years of age, has said (Choosing just one was difficult; the proof being that I changed quotes three times!):

“When the fun goes out of dressing, you might as well be dead. You need to pursue your own fancy.”

Both of us on an exercise mission,

cross each other’s paths.

My hello returned with a smile

Your

mismatched olive hat,

purple-striped shirt

and orange scarf,

with wide-legged grey shorts,

black knee-high socks

joining turquoise running shoes

scream

“I’m groovy coz I say so!”

 

Our Special Place – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday, my peeps!  It’s been a while since I played Friday Fictioneer.  I was inspired by the book I am reading.  A special thank you to Penny Gadd for the use of her photo and to our hostess with the mostest, Rochelle for being there through thick and thin.  Should you wish to play, just click on the frogs below and add the link to your own one-hundred-word story!  G’head! It’s fun!

Two green frogs swimming in the water of a little lake, between the water plants. The larger male is following the female during mating time. Seen fro Stock Photo - Alamy

Click to play!

Our Special Place

From the first weekend after school ended until the weekend it started up again, we lived at great-grandpa’s cottage.  Though he was long gone, we refused to call it anything else.  It felt disrespectful to rename it since he is the one who built it.

I remember the summer Bill arrived.  We were ten and twelve.  Though he was younger than I, we hit it off from the get.  Our days were spent lazing in “my” hidden pool, away from all the other cottages.

Summer after summer, our friendship grew.  Who knew I would end up marrying my best friend?

 

Walking and Walking: YUL to ATL to PHL/PHL to IAD to YUL

Inspired by David Kanigan, I thought I would write a “Walking” post. Because Lord knows I’ve walked in the past eight days! Of course, mine won’t be as sophisticated as his. I don’t have some cool reference to the latest book I’m reading, inspiring me. No, no. Mine is the Good Gawd Version.

It all started with a decision to go hang out with my fella… Justin opened up the border to the Yanks and I just had to wait until Joe did the same for us. But he didn’t. Damn him! So, arrangements were made to fly – destination Philadelphia followed by a short drive to Delaware, just for the hell of it.

I did the necessaries, i.e. get a proper Covid test (the US, while not open to us Canucks, are less demanding of which test was needed). Found me a drive-through and was planning on getting tested on the Saturday, August 21, on my way up to Yvon’s funeral. It only takes 15 minutes to get the results. However, I decided to follow my sister Tracy’s suggestion that I not wait till the last minute. So I went on Thursday after work, enduring traffic to and fro. But all good. Negatory, so I was set.

Why, pray tell, do we have to present ourselves at the airport three hours prior to boarding when there is no one officially working until 5:30? My flight was at 7:30… There was one woman who was asked to come in early so she dealt with as many as she could, including me, before the rest arrived… And then? Great, she checked us in but the security isn’t open until 6:30? What in the eff?

There is a screen between the cow chute and the agents…

Sunday morning, I was on my flight to, get this, ATLANTA, as a layover to Philadelphia. Nuts, I tells ya. Nuts. I have gone to Florida, to the Dominican Republic and my layover was IN Philadelphia. Now that it was my destination? No, no. we can’t have us no direct flight. Let’s send you for a ride!

Blue skies over fluffy white clouds – gonna be a great week!

I won’t complain too hardily as Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport is a beautiful place. I mean, if you are to have a four-hour layover, this is a grand place to have it. I’d get my 10K steps easy-peasy! I arrived in Concourse A and walked around there, not quite knowing how to get to the other concourses. So I took the train to T and walked all the way back to E. And back. Wow.

Concourse T to A contains a series of Zimbabwean sculptures, each one so beautiful. I took ’em all but won’t torment you here!

Concourse A to B has a rain forest theme, including the sounds of tree frogs and other beasties. So cool.

Between Concourses B and C, you find a serious history lesson. Along the walls the images take you from 11,000 BC to today.

There was nothing special after that that. Was more straightforward.

My flight was on time and it was off to Delaware for a week of reconnection, rest and relaxation.

Fast-forward to Wednesday. I had a Covid Test to take. This time the PCR one. Thanks to my co-worker, I knew that Vybe Urgent Care took appointments and gave results in two hours. Woot! (Booked it on Monday,) Off we went, I took the test and then we walked around South Philly for a few hours. Picked up the results. All good. I was negative.

Friday afternoon, I receive an email from Air Canada telling me my flight next day’s was cancelled. For weather. What? What weather? There was nothing in Philadelphia. Nothing in Toronto (my connecting airport) and nothing in Montreal. What in the blessed eff? Sonova…. They give me my new flight for SUNDAY at 8:30, with a connection in Dulles, Washington. An eight-and-a-half hour layover. Oh. Em. Gee… No matter how much I searched, unless I was Croesus, which I am not, there was no way I could change this. Double Damn. Thankfully, we were able to stay at our joint for another night.

Saturday morning I wake up with a start. Aaaarrrggghhh! My Covid test is now no longer valid! I call Vybe and am told that “sorry, we cannot fit you in”. I call elsewhere and hit a wall. I call back the first Vybe – which is the closest in Ridley and basically beg. Successfully. We have to leave immediately, so off we go.

As expected, it took less than five minutes. So I treated us to breakfast in a diner (meh) and we then walked around until the paperwork was ready. Yay. Negative again (like… of COURSE).

It was great to have an extra day of vacation but the running around necessary? Not so much. Plus, now I had to leave at 8:30 instead of 10:15 yet another early start!

So. Here I am. In Dulles. It ain’t no Atlanta, is all I’m saying. But now I have to distract myself for eight-and-a-half hours. After a lickety-split flight from PHL to ATL (arrived early, of course). I thought I’d be seeing this spaceship (please, take me away!) over and over again but no. I found other places to get my steps! Not too exciting.

I walk from one end to the other and back. I see there is a Bar Symon and I think, that will be a great supper. It’s in Gate B and I still don’t know where I am leaving from. By 10:30 my 4 a.m. bagel is no longer sustaining me so I decide to have a Five Guys burger – a small one. Thank goodness!

Walk some more and wish and wish I could find some place to lie down. All the damn benches have armrests! What is it with this well-maintained airport already? I could like on a wooden bench like some rubby (homeless Canadian drunk) – right the middle of the hallway…. or maybe this cushy one, also set up in full view. I keep walking and find this overpass between Gates A1-A5 and A6-A-whatever)… Dang. That would have worked

Too late. I sit down in my empty gate A5 and start to write this post. I realise, as I am looking for deets, that I cannot find my blue travel wallet. What the? Wait. Oh man. I think, when I took my laptop out of my bag at security in Philly, it fell out. Never saw it. It contained all my paper proof of vaccination, tests, etc. Thank God I had it all digitally but I knew it would make my life easier to have the paperwork. Could this day get any worse?

Why yes. Yes, it could! By 4:30 they call us to verify our vaccine situation and test and all that schmegegge and tell us… hey… by the way, let’s delay your flight by an hour! Sallamabeetz…

Papers verified, I look around. I am NOT taking the chance to walk over to Michael Symon’s joint and find a nearby pub called Firkin and Fox. Imma have me a Yuengling! And a “turkey” (pressed meat) avocado club sandwich. Was edible and quenched my thirst. All for the measly sum of $30. Gotta love airports, eh?

Return to my bench to finish my post and accidentally flush it. Had to start the whole damn thing over (I think this version is better, though still way too long!)

Oh… that a boarding call? Not quite yet as, well, there is something they need to look at…

Everyday Exotic Beauty

On Monday, Merril was hosting dVerse Prosery.  I love this challenge of using only 144 words to tell a story – not in poetry but in prose, using a phrase supplied.  Merril’s head must have been in the clouds because that is the theme for this one.  We must use the following:

“But these clouds are clearly foreign, such an exotic clutter

Against the blue cloth of the sky”

              –from “Clouds” by Constance Urdang

Do take the time to read her poem. It is wonderful! (Very short)

Anyway, how could I resist when I so love clouds?  I couldn’t.  That said, I am really late to the party so, without further ado:

Pastel hues greet me as I open my blinds, declaring that, beyond my field of vision, the sun has only just risen.  I dress and step out into the morning and am immediately shrink-wrapped in a second skin of humidity.  The air is thick and there is no breeze to be had.  Nevertheless I set off at a light run, on soundless feet (our karate Shihan taught us to run quietly – no heels! no thuds!)  I make my way along my now-familiar path, feeling I am one with the universe.  My soundscape consists of cawing crows and tweeting birds.  Pastels have given way to vibrant fire by the time I get to the park.   I look up and Oh! But these clouds are clearly foreign.  Such an exotic clutter against the blue cloth of the sky cannot ever be considered plain.  Everyday exotic beauty.