Let Me Show You the Waze

I was watching Chicago Med the other day (what can I say? I enjoy the three Chicagos, Med, PD and especially Fire).  Anyway, Dr. Crockett Marcel uses this AI O.R. 2.0.  It is a very advanced way of doing surgery.  The 2.0 is programmed to let you know when you can or cannot do something, give you best options, or even let you know if you are too tired to operate.  They had this very weird scenario where, to save a hand until it can be reconnected (due to infection), they do what is called ectopic banking, which is basically to plant an amputated member onto another part of the body (in this case, the hand to the leg) to keep it properly perfused and prevent the member from dying until it can be reattached.  The 2.0 has no record of how to do this but it can keep tabs on the perfusion.

After they successfully do this operation (of course), Crockett then chooses to use a regular OR for some other procedure.  When asked why? He responds:  “Do you ever go anywhere without using your GPS?”  The person responds, “No, why should I?  It’s there, might as well use it.”  His answer to that is:  “Well, I have the need to make sure I can still find my way without this type of technology.”

This brought me to a discussion with B about the very same thing.  How once upon a time, I would have just looked up the road to take (or asked directions) and taken it.  I could possibly hit construction detours, but hey, I would have figured it out in the end.  Now? I use the damn thing to go to places I know off by heart!  Why?  Simply to see if there is traffic to avoid.  It’s a good justification, right?  Maybe…

Besides the traffic pitfalls to avoid (or the least painful ones), Waze (I choose over Google Maps) gives me some interesting routes.  It rarely screws up, either.

I have used it almost every day since Monday, visiting my daughter at the clinic where she is recuperating from elective surgery.  What you might not be able to see on the image at left is that where she is, is at the very top part of the island of Montreal.  You see I have to cross one bridge, drive across and through to the other side.  So far to the “top” that it is right beside one of the many bridges to cross over into the Island of Laval.  There are a few options to cross but all depend on which way the traffic stalls.  Ugh.

What does not help is visiting hours at the centre are from 2 pm to 8 pm. I figure most of her friends would only be able to visit after work so I leave the evenings for them (we can only visit one at a time, anyway).

Wednesday, I took pity on her and brought her a good pillow.  I figured I’d get there for 2 and leave by 3:30, latest, getting just the beginning of traffic. HAH! Jokes on me.

Well now, while the drive took me almost an hour, it was a surprising and rather enjoyable one.  Instead of sending me over to the Champlain bridge, or to the tunnel (which I avoid like the plague since they are redoing the damn thing), it took me to the Jacques-Cartier bridge.  Hmmm.  This meant going through boroughs and along streets I was not expecting (nor familiar with, at least not this far north).

 

It took everything in my power NOT to pull over and take a bunch of pictures.  Though I will admit to taking quick pics at stop signs and stop lights… ahem.

I am determined, now, to take a day (I would have today but with yesterday’s snowfall?  The street, and especially parking, will be hell.

See that slushy mess?  And the ploughs pass when they do and you get snowed in. It’s gross and unpleasant.  I shall see what the deal is shortly!

Now I just have to remember where I saw the following mural – taken through my dirty window while at a red light (I’m not that foolish!)

Maybe GPS is not so bad after all, eh?

 

 

 

Winging It – Quadrille from dVerse

I decided to play along today (well, started yesterday but you know how that can go…)  WhimsyGizmo hosted Quadrille Monday for dVerse and all we had to do was use the word “wing”, or some for of it, in a 44-word poem.  Why not, eh?

Like an actor in the wings

Suddenly called forth to perform

I must dazzle them with my brilliance

Or baffle them with my bullshit

And see what happens

 

Supposedly a far cry from

Winging it

According to MacGruber

 

Can be costly

According to me

Weekend Writing Prompt #284 – Rule

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.

Hard to resist just sixteen words.  So I didn’t!

wk 284 rule

My roof

My rules

You don’t like it?

You know what to do…

So I left

 

It’s Gonna Be a Bumpy Ride – Friday Fictioneers

Hello my peeps.  Lovely to see you on this first hump day in August.  How it is already August when July was barely a day long is beyond me, but I digress.  Rochelle may be off cavorting in the ocean on vacay but she still manages to host this weekly shindig.  She is a rockstar, eh?  When I saw this photo by the super-talented Sandra Crook, I knew exactly where I wanted to go.  Then I remembered (vaguely) that I was pretty sure I had written about this experience before. Dang it!  A search revealed that I did.  Back in June, 2017.  Wait… back in 2017… who the hell is gonna remember it anyhow, right?  Right.  And, hey, it happens that others repost old stuff.  This is more of a rearranging.  Apologies to those who do remember it.  I was surprised to see the number of Fictioneers from then who are still around today.  Hope the newbies enjoy… If you’ve got an idea for a 100-word original story, then by all means, do click on the frog below and add your link.  G’head. It’s fun 🙂

Frog Driving Car Stock Illustrations – 99 Frog Driving Car Stock Illustrations, Vectors & Clipart - Dreamstime

Click me to play!

 

“Total gridlock, Mon, in Sint Maarten! We’re gonna miss the boat!”

The walkie-talkie crackled with Sébastien’s voice.  “If I make a move, you guys gonna follow?”

“Hah!  Go?  There’s nowhere to go!”  Mick grumbled.

Karl’s voice came on, “We’re in!”

Suddenly Sébastien’s jeep, followed closely by Karl’s, passed us on the left.  On the sidewalk.  People scurried out of the way.

“Are they stupid?”

“You best be stupid, too, if you don’t wanna miss the boat!”  I yelled.  The song “Bumpy Ride” came on the radio. Serendipity? A sign?

“Put the music up louder!”

“Whoo hoo!  Go, Daddy, Go!”

 

 

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #266 – Flippant

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.  Heard tell Sammi ain’t too particular on the dates we choose to play so, there is that and I thank her for that, too 🙂

wk 266 flippant

When flippant replies are all I receive

I cannot help but feel the need

to recede

Where, in what world were you led to believe

I would not want you to succeed?

to mislead?

It is time, I say, to give me reprieve

I shall not beg for you, nor plead

to believe

I cannot help you with what you perceive

I’ve reached the end and feel the need

for you to go

Leave

For Dad on Father’s Day

A few days ago, Ally, from The Spectacled Bean (why I kept seeing Speckled instead of Spectacled, is beyond me, and I apologize, Ally), shared some quirky deets about her father.  This was inspired by her watching the last season of Grace and Frankie (which I loved, too), in particular, the Paprikash episode where Grace reconnects with her long-lost brother on false pretenses because she has a hankering for chicken paprikash and desperately wants the family recipe which her brother knows off by heart.  He never got a chance to know their father and wants Grace to share her memories.  Grace doesn’t want to because it hurts too much.  Her brother comes to realise that he is not there because Grace has missed him and goes to leave but Frankie, in true Frankie fashion, finds a way for him to stay.  With every memory Grace shares, he gives her an ingredient.

Quite the intro to the raison d’être of this post, eh?  I purposefully waited until today, Father’s Day, to share my list.  I was lucky enough to have him until I was 49, unlike 15 for Ally.  To think my kids were 15 and 16 when they lost theirs.  Sigh.

So, without further ado, here are ten things about my dad

1️⃣  He was thrilled to be mistaken for Captain Picard – it’s hard to get a picture because Dad always smiled with his teeth, while Sir Patrick smiles closed-mouthed… During the Pandammit, when Patrick Stewart read the Shakespearean sonnets, shared on FB and Twitter, I kept being taken aback.  They have many facial expressions that matched; it was uncanny.

2️⃣  He loved to listen to the Boston Pops on Sunday nights – we really think it was to annoy the shit out of Mom more than love of the music.

3️⃣  He loved Rod Stewart’s “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy” and would dance around in his goofy way, while clicking his tongue to the beat.

4️⃣  He insisted on setting a nice table, using bowls for ketchup and other condiments – do NOT even think of putting a bottle of ketchup on the table!

5️⃣  After he died, we found a penny in every single coat pocket because he always kept the ones he found, saying they were Pennies from Heaven, from his grandson, Austin.

6️⃣  He did a 180° flip from saying how much he paid for stuff to how little.  Having been raised on welfare, he planned on having more than enough one day – and did, which he was so proud of and flaunted.  Then he got older and wiser and realised that saving a buck was nothing to be ashamed of – which, of course, he now went on and on about.

7️⃣  He excelled at playing the overseer when construction projects were underway at any of our houses 😏 Though, in fairness, he was very adept at putting hammer to nail as well.

8️⃣  He always dressed well.  Loved looking sharp, whether casual or formal.

9️⃣  He was a natural artist.  One day, he decided to paint. So he did.  He sold most of his paintings, too.  And then he stopped.  I guess I take after him for that – losing interest after a while…

Painting Dad made for me

🔟  He had no regrets, he said. Had a wonderful life and stood behind all his choices.  When he wanted something he went for it.  It took him years to finally get a sailboat.  Until it was a reality, sail magazines graced the house all over the place, top of the toilet, night stand, living room table.  I think it was a sort of vision board exercise.

I’m sure so many other things will come to mind once I press publish, but like Dad, I’ll stand behind my choices.  Thank you again, Ally, for inspiring me to write this post.

 

Raffi Said No – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome to Wednesday!  The day when most of the Friday Fictoneersers deposit a link to their 100-word story via frog.  I kid you not. We really do!  Once upon a time, they were deposited on Fridays but, over time, it’s become a thing to do it as early as possible. (I figure it’s coz we know it gives us more time to read all the others…  maybe Rochelle has an explanation. Then again, maybe it’s just simple evolution.  It matters not. Here we are!

Apologies in advance.  I fear I have not gone the fiction way, yet again.  This wonderful photo, supplied by the equally wonderful Bill Reynolds, has sent me down memory lane. Much as people heard me go on and on and on about Tuscany, we had to hear Mick go on and on about his desire for a Ford F-150 truck.  He wasn’t looking for one quite so “vintage” as this one, however 🙂

Blue Truck With Frog Watercolor Printable PNG | Etsy Ireland

Click to play!

 

How did your meeting with Raffi go?  Is he pleased with the way the business is going?

He said I’m doing great, that if I keep working hard, my business will keep growing. He has faith in me.

Fabulous!  So, what’d he say about you getting your Ford F-150?

Raffi said no.

Damn.

He said it won’t be long.

And you’ll heed his wisdom.

Of course. He’s not steered me wrong yet.  He said he only wished Armen would listen as well as I do!

Haha! I’m not even worried.  You’ll get it.

***

And he did. He was so happy!

 

Just Roll With It

“I try not to make plans. Because, even the best laid plans etc. etc.”

Author: Brent Spiner

My plan for Sunday was rather easy.  Get up (always a good way to start the day), have a coffee, eat some breakfast, have a second coffee, then get my heinie outside for a good walk.  Upon my return will deserve a nice bowl of my veggie soup, take a shower, prepare supper, pick up my mother, enjoy our meal, drive her back, relax and go to bed.

As Sundays go, it started off nice and slow.  Slept in until 9 (never mind I was awake from 2 till 5).  Stoked the fire and made myself a cup of coffee.  Got onto the Interwebs to catch up on my readings.  Ate my bowl of Raisin Bran by 10, continued reading and next thing I knew it was past noon.  Well, dang.

 

If I was going to walk for any reasonable time, I’d have to eat sooner.  Continued reading and commenting and whatnot and then around 1:30-ish, had a small bowl of soup, then dressed up to go out.

Shovelled the back porch and along the back of the house up to the side gate (must have all exits free from snow, in case). Once that was done, grabbed my camera and was off.

After the cold we had on Saturday, Sunday felt positively balmy!  Off I went in the direction of  my willow, planning to keep walking until I reached the discovered secluded walkway.  I got to the first park and decided to take a pic of the play area as this week’s theme in my photo group is “a touch of blue”, and there is blue on the monkey bars.  I slid-shuffled across the skating rink, passing by a lady who was clearing the snow off the rink.  I took a few pictures then noticed a flash of something on my camera….

“No card in camera”.

What. The. Fuck?  What an amateur move! I completely forgot that I had taken a few pics of the sky from my living room window the evening before, uploaded them into my computer. Where I left the card. Sonova–

I grumble and take out my cell phone to snap a couple pics.  Would have been a grand day with the camera as the day was beautiful, for sure.

However, there was no way in hell I was lugging my camera bag without being able to take pictures!  Get a sore back for nothing? No.  So I turned around.  As I crossed the park, I thought, hey, all is not lost, I have lots of time. I shall go home, change and go back out for a run.  Once I turned on the next street, the wind in my face determined otherwise.  The day was bust. I just wasn’t feeling it, anymore anyway.

So I took my shower then slowly started preparing my supper. It was nice to not feel rushed.  Chopping and sautéeing and browning. It’s when I feel the most zen.  Just as I was putting my coat on to leave to pick up my mother, Iain’s CAA arrived to boost his car (dead battery).  I told him that, since he had to drive his car to get his battery full, it would be a wonderful idea if he could go and get his grandmother.  He agreed.

We had a lovely and simple Sunday dinner.  To be repeated!  I made my “Chicken à la Tuscan à la Dale” – one of those recipes that I actually wrote down.  (Years and years ago, Mick asked me to please stop winging it and write things down so that I could potentially repeat the good stuff.)  Of course, I never follow it, but the fact that I wrote it down means that I potentially remake it sorta-kinda the same way (ish).  It just so happens I was looking for this recipe to share with someone else – and ended up not doing so coz I never did get around to sending out Christmas cards in which I was supposed to include a recipe on a 3″ X 5″ index card; said index cards that I actually bought for the occasion and will be potentially used next year – so it was top of my mind when I asked Mom if she wanted dinner.

Plans are great and all but hey, when they are broken, doesn’t mean all is lost!

 

 

 

 

Mom and Me Time – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Wednesday and I’m on the ball here to play Friday Fictioneers.  I had to go down memory lane again only this time, I imagined I was my younger child.  I am still, to this day, reminded that it’s been an awful long time since we had our adventures. (Did I mention said child is now 22?)  Never mind the store no longer exists but hey, I take it as a compliment that I am actually worthy of spending time with.  Wonder if Indigo would do?  Wonder if I would still get a “Yes, let’s go!”  Till then, a special thank you to Ted Strutz for supplying this week’s photo as well as an always thank you to Rochelle for hosting! If you’d like to play along, click on the frog below to add your 100-word story link.

©Ted Strutz

Book Frog Reading Stock Illustrations – 147 Book Frog Reading Stock  Illustrations, Vectors & Clipart - Dreamstime

Click to play

When Mom said:  “Let’s go to Chapters!” my heart leapt in joy.  It was the coolest place.  There were four floors of books!  I always looked forward to this adventure.  We’d start off on the main floor, me tugging Mom’s hand to pull her towards the stairs that lead down to the kids’ section.  So many books!

When I was old enough, she’d leave me to walk around alone, to choose the ones that I want.  “I don’t suppose you want us to go and have a hot chocolate when you’re done, right?”  Don’t know why she bothered to ask!

Tuesday Poetics – Food!

On Tuesday, Sarah from Sarah Writes Poems hosted  dVerse Tuesday Poetics – Food being the subject du jour.  Well now. Anyone who knows me, knows I do food. I love food. I love to make food to feed others. I love to share pictures of my food.  I am all over this prompt!

Funny how I knew exactly where I wanted to go and then, started writing and it went here. That muse just took over and ran roughshod over my idea!  She might have had the right idea, we’ll never know because she squashed my original words. Hope she used a quality masher, is all I can say.

My Food is Love

Chatting about food with my cousin one day

She says: What do you mean, you cook for others?

You should cook for your own pleasure

 

I retort:  What is the point to go all out

If it is just for me?

I show my love with my food

 

As did my father with his famous BBQ ribs,

His secret recipe held close to his chest

Or that one special meal made for my birthday, which I’ll never forget

 

And my mother, who can magically

Rummage in her freezer and find the ingredients

To feed a last-minute group of fifteen

 

I like to think I am a mix of both parents

Able to create something with nothing

Or to go all out with a six-course feast

 

My joy of creating fancy meals

Has caused others to fear receiving me for a meal

As if I would ever judge what they serve

 

The purpose of an invite is never to show off

Nor make others feel intimidated

It’s to gather my loved ones and share, even in the prep!

 

So, in my house, do not be surprised if on Tuesday

There is duck breast with raspberry sauce

Because Saturday it might be grilled cheese or frozen pizza

 

Creating food, simple or complex

All has the same goal, in the end

To show my love, sitting around my table

 

So, if I’ve gone through efforts, big or small

And no one comes to join me (kids? where are you?)

I guess my cousin was right, in the end

 

I best cook for my own pleasure, then
I suppose I could even convince myself it is a form of self-love

Yeah well… I’m not buying what I’m trying to sell