You Call This an Act of Love? – Friday Fictioneers

Good Thursday evening, my lovely readers.  Welcome to this week’s edition of Friday Fictioneers.  Our fabulous hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has chosen FFF (Fellow Friday Fictioneer) Kelvin M. Night‘s wonderfully whimsical photo.  So many possibilities.   Let’s just say I’ve had a rough two weeks.  This story is not fiction and I’m not the daughter, I’m the daughter-in-law.  We did win our court hearing yesterday and my mother-in-law has one chance to prove she can live on her own with medical help… Fingers crossed she accepts the help!

Next week, I bring smiles, I promise!

To join in the fun, click on the blue frog below

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You Call This an Act of Love?

The old woman sitting in the wheelchair glared at the younger woman seated in front of her.

“How could you do this to me?  I’m fine.  There is nothing wrong with me! I just want to go home.  They’re keeping me here against my will!”

“We all just want you safe.  You’ve started forgetting some things and you’re not too stable on your feet.  We don’t want you to come to any harm.  A safe environment is what you need.”

“I want to be in my own home.  You call this an act of love?”

“Yes, I really do, Mother.”

Better on the Other Side – Friday Fictioneers

Good Thursday, my readers.  I’ve been struggling with this week’s Friday Fictioneers, trying to come up with something half-way decent.  I admit I’ve been a tad preoccupied this week with the death on Friday of my beloved aunt, Lucette.  Saturday is her funeral.

I have been asked, once again, to give the eulogy.  My cousin feels he’s too close – it is his mother – and says he won’t be able to do it.  I, of course accepted, having already made the decision to say a few words to honour her anyway.

It’s funny, I keep getting asked to do this “job”, having now done it for my grandmother, father, and husband.  I dunno, maybe it’s a calling!  One thing is for sure, there will not only be tears, there will definitely be smiles.  I can’t help it.  I will always try to find the sunshine in the dark; or, as Maya Angelou like to say, I try to be a rainbow to someone else’s cloud.

Thank you, always, to Rochelle for hosting our group.  And this week, thank you to Danny Boweman for the use of your picture (bet you didn’t know Rochelle would choose you this week, eh?)

To play with us, click on the blue frog to add your link.  Not sure how this shindig works?  Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-tos…

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©Danny Boweman

Better on the Other Side

She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes!

She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain when she comes!

Ever since she opened Rochelle’s email with this week’s pic, the bloody song had become an earworm.

For reasons she couldn’t fathom, the stupid song made her think of her beloved aunt, Lucette

“You’re on the other side now, Matante*.  I do hope it is pain-free and filled with beauty, as they say it is.”

Smiling through her tears, she pictured her aunt:  healthy, rounding the bend, drink in hand, singing the song.  Letting us all know she much better now.

 

*Here in Quebec (well in my family at least) we call our uncles “Mononcle” and our aunts “Matante”, which means my aunt.  We don’t just use the tante.  It has become a form of endearment to the point that we will say something like:  My Matante Lucette…  literally meaning  “My my aunt Lucette”!

Missing You – Friday Fictioneers, Take Two

Hello again, dear Readers!  As I had alluded in my first submission, I really had more than one idea for my picture.  (How come we get so thrilled when one of ours is chosen?  Well, I do, anyway!)  This was my original idea but then the other one came in and bullied its way in.  This one refused to be silenced so this week you get a Two-fer from me! Rules and regs here.  More stories. Frog.

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Genre:  Reminiscing

Word count:  100

Missing You

The warm  night  breeze caressed her cheek as she meandered along the resort’s winding pathways.  What a beautiful evening in this Caribbean paradise.  The scent of flowers teased her nostrils and the distant music tickled her ears.

She smiled and nodded to those passing her by; mostly couples, some small groups enjoying spring break and a family or two.  None seemed to be , like her, alone.

Truth was, she was not alone.  She had left her friend behind in the room, watching TV.  Looking up at the full moon, she wished she could hold the hand of her true love.

While It Lasts – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my Peeps!  Et oui, it is Friday Fictioneers time.  My favourite part of the week where we all gather to tell each other 100-word stories based on a photograph sent to us via our Hostess with the Mostest, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week, she has chosen a picture from Roger Bultot.  Love this photo, Roger.  Thank you!  There should be many a variation to be found if you click on the blue frog…  Should you want to participate, please click here for the rules and regs.  Truly simple rules, I promise.  What is hard is whittling down our original thoughts to 100 words.  It is a challenge that teaches us that less is more.  G’head!  Try it!

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©Roger Bultot

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  Toujours 100

While It Lasts

“Scuse-me.  May I please have a hot dog with ketchup and an Orange Crush for me, and a coffee for my Daddy?”

“What? Who said that?”

“Meeee! I did!”

“Who’s there?”

“Meeeee!  Down here, Mr. Bob!”

“Would you look at that… How are you Miss Sunshine?  Didn’t see you down there.  How ’bout you hop up on the stool so I can see your pretty face?”

As the father picked up his daughter, the men smiled at each other over her head.  They both enjoyed this weekly ritual, knowing one day, too soon, they could not play this little game.

Very Much Alive – Friday Fictioneers

A bit late today.  Had trouble getting this story going in the way I wanted it to!  Plus it was a day for Skyping and dining with friends!  Priorities, eh?

Thanks to Rochelle for being there week after week and making us squeeze our creative juices into a 100-word story.  This challenge is the highlight of my week.  Thank you to Liz Young for this great photo.  I am sure there will be death and mayhem galore this week.  Just not from me!  Do click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to of this challenge or, if you are not ready to take the plunge but would like to see how 80 (give or take) other writers are inspired, click on the blue frog!

Genre:  Fiction

Word count:  Always 100

Very Much Alive

Sitting on the bench, eyes closed, she could still feel his touch, his kisses, hear his whispered sweet nothings. It had been so long since she had felt a man’s touch beyond a handshake and a chaste kiss on each cheek.  She had felt so alive and sexy.

She flushed thinking just how far those touches and kisses had gotten…

“Mom!” Her son’s yell jarred her back to the present.  “What the hell?  Arrested for indecent exposure at your age? Seriously, in a graveyard of all places?  Moms do NOT do things like that. Ever!”

She smiled.  “Maybe they do.”

#Weekend Coffee Share – Sunshine, Water Woes, Birthdays and Easter

Hello my friends!  Welcome to this weekend’s Coffee Share!  I did mention two weeks ago that I could not play with you last weekend as I was… sigh… “stuck” in Punta Cana! 😉

There was access to WiFi but, let’s face it, other than sharing my Instagram photos, there was no gathering of thoughts and such!

First, let me thank the lovely Emily for hosting this shindig!  Just click on the box above if you want to join along and add your link!

Without further ado…

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I had a most relaxing and wonderful time in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic (I specify, because so many think this is in Mexico!)  The weather was perfect, the beaches wonderful, the food excellent.  Check-in was a nightmare and totally disorganised.  We got there for noon but didn’t get checked in until 12:50 where we were told our room would not be ready until 3:00 pm but to go ahead and eat and drink (now that we had our bracelets).  Check-in was so long the guy at the counter ordered us two beers while waiting!  Once checked in, we went to the dining room.  Which wasn’t open until 1:00.  10 minutes to wait.  Let’s just say not a grand debut to our week…  Things looked up immediately after, though!

Only thing I would complain about, and this pains me greatly to say, were the Russian guests.  Oh my gosh.  The rudest, most pushy and disagreeable sort they were in general.  I don’t like to generalise but here, I must.  There were constant looks of shock and disgust by all other guests every time one of them pushed their way into the food line.  If all were going in one direction, they inserted themselves and pushed in the opposite!  Every. Single. Time.  At one point, there was no one in front of me, I was making my way and two botox, bubble-lipped, boob-implanted-barbie dolls planted themselves in front of me, facing me.  Wrong direction.  I waited for them to move out of the way and nope.  They practically ploughed me over.  Ridiculous.  It does not give one the urge to go visit their country; as ambassadors, they suck!  On a positive note, here are a few pics!

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you the morning after I arrived home, I walked into my dining room and saw this:

I poked the hole and let out the water.  Then let out a wail.  This is my favourite room that Mick and I had redone the year he died.   Where was the water coming from?  I called my cousin Marc, who just happens to work in construction, to ask him if he was free in the next few days to come and assess the damage.  He said he would come the next day (Good Friday).

My son also advised me that he didn’t know what happened, but that he did not have an accident with my car while I was away…

He did use it to get to and from work as he was working two jobs.  In good faith, I am willing to admit that it does look like someone backed into the door.  Dammit.  Another thing to fix.

Good Friday came along.  Just so happens to be my birthday.  Oh no, no fuss, please!  I can’t handle more right now!  Marc came by before lunch and cut away at the ceiling, trying to find the source of the wet.  He determined it came from the boys’ bathroom shower.  Seems there is a joint that has been dripping for a good while.

I had also noticed that the carpet in the basement was wet.  It had been a bit before I left and I figured someone had spilled something.  However, now it was wet halfway across the room and on the other side!  Oh for Pete’s sake!  Stop already!

Trying to find the source

Marc determined that there must be a crack in my foundation.  Bloody hell.  On Monday I shall be calling my insurance company.  It appears there is work to be done before I can put this Mothaf*** for sale.

As I refuse to end this post on a negative note.  Just not my style, I tell you, I shall finish with this:

My sister, Lisa, made supper and my most favouritestiest spice cake for my birthday.  So nice!

Never too old

While having the last of our coffee (or really, should I not deserve something stronger by now?  I would tell you that Zeke and I took a nice walk yesterday and I was thrilled to see that I finally had a crocus!

Crocus!

And today, is Easter.  And I had to work.  It was the first official event of the new golf season for our members.  A lovely Easter brunch.  Everyone was in a grand mood.  It was nice to work with more of the regulars who didn’t work with me during the winter events.  After the event and the cleanup, we all sat down and ate a nice meal together and I got to take home a bouquet of tulips.

On that note, my friends, thank you for sharing some of your time with me (I promise I will be catching up on your Weekend Coffee Shares as well!)

Happy Easter!  Happy Passover!

Lotsa love,

Dale

xo

 

It Is Time – Friday Fictioneers

Wednesday is here and I have to rush out to go to work.  Ugh.  There is a mountain of snow in front of my door and the white stuff is still falling!

Thank you, always, to Rochelle for hosting this weekly shindig and this week, thanks go to Jennifer Pendergast for her photo.  If you want to participate, click on Rochelle’s name for the rules and regs.  If you want to see what about 70 or so others have to say about this, click on the blue frog!

Genre:  True Story

It Is Time

As Nicole approached her father’s hospital room, she overheard him speaking.

“How long will I live once you turn off the oxygen?”

“About ten minutes,” she replied.

“Okay then, we are doing it today.”

“Hang on there, sir, that is a horrid way to go.  We can’t just turn it off without preparation!”

“Well, I’m done.  I want it done today.  It’s been long enough.  It is time.”

“If you are absolutely sure, we will prepare you so that you go gently.”

Nicole walked away from the door and called her sisters, sobbing, “You have to come to the hospital…”