Weekend Writing Prompt #283 – Dunk

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 took a short trip down memory lane with this one… Okay, that’s not entirely true as I had this very lunch just last week…

wk 283 dunk

Comfort

Is an Aylmer’s cream of tomato soup with a side of sandwich.

The choice of sandwich is important.  Plain will work in a pinch, but toasted is always best.

Some will swear by baloney (bologna) – plain or fried, thin or thick.  Salami, ham, pressed chicken work

!  But oh! A grilled cheese? That’s the best!

The magic happens when you dunk your sammie into the soup and savour!

Add The Flintstones and you are ten years old again.

The Flintstones Coming to MeTV in Fall 2019; Lifetime Tackles The College  Admissions Scandal - SitcomsOnline.com News Blog

 

 

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

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“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!”

 

 

 

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.

 

Climbing Mountains

it is Haibun Monday today on dVerse, hosted by Frank J. Tassone.  Today, we are to write about Cold Mountain – a Chinese poet from sometime in the 9th century, during the Tang Dynasty.  His poetry has influenced both Zen practitioners and eastern style poets. The immediacy of his work embodies the emphasis on the present moment that defines Zen aesthetics. The Beat Poets were moths drawn to his fire. Well. That is quite the mouthful.  Thankfully, Frank has not limited us to trying to become Chinese Zen Masters.  His instructions are as follows:

Today, write you haibun on either one of the following options:

  1. A Cold Mountain: the towering heights, frigid temperatures, majestic views, or existential challenges of a mountain. You could even go metaphorical, describing the cold mountain of overwhelming circumstances, or how we make mountains out of mole hills.
  2. The Cold Mountain: a haibun that follows the influence of Hanshan (Cold Mountain), with his immediacy, concern for humanity, and deep devotion to nature.

I knew a man who believed he could climb any mountain.  And he did.  Life was never a walk in the park.  A difficult childhood, a substance addiction, a near bankruptcy, were all stepping stones for him.  He always made the choice to live.  He cleaned himself up, he paid his debts, and he worked his way up from sweeping floors to fixing machinery to designing to owning his own company.  An autodidact who didn’t understand the word quit.

Some mountains are harder and colder to climb than others.  And some, you cannot reach the top, no matter how much you desire it.

No challenge too great

When you believe in yourself

Until breath runs out

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

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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!

 

Dark With the Night – Friday Fictioneers

It is Wednesday. I thought, nah… I can’t. I won’t. But then I did. It’s time for Friday Fictioneers and I’m maybe doing a little FanFic at the same time. I cannot remember the last time a book grabbed me so completely. And to think it’s an Audible one to boot.  I think it’s thanks to Julie Harris’ fantastic reading of West With the Night that has so enraptured me.  I’m maybe halfway through and I so highly recommend it my friends will think I’m a royal pain in the ass. What can I say? I love what I love… So yeah. Na’ama‘s wonderful photo could be used in so many ways.  This is mine.  Thank you, my NYNF.  And thank you, Rochelle for tirelessly rounding us cats up!  Click on the frog below to check out what other fabulous 100-stories were created. Or, hey, how about you add your own?

©Na’ama Yehuda

Solar Frog Reading Book only $44.95 at Garden Fun

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Dark With the Night

Her light might have been the only one on in the building, not that she cared.  A rumble of thunder had her glance through the window, enlightening her to the darkening sky.  She mentally shrugged, took a sip of her tea, and re-immersed herself in the boar hunt in Africa…

…the belly of the earth was hot as live ash under our feet. Except for an occasional gust of fretful wind that flattened the high, corn-like grass, nothing uttered…

She sighed.  Hemingway was right.  “Bloody, wonderful book”.

 

 

Hot Chocolate (and Toast)

One of Mick’s Coca Cola mugs, worn down, much loved

I was reading Pam’s wonderful Christmas tale, “The Last Christmas Gift”.  Do please go and read it here … it might help explain my sudden inspiration to “pen” this.  Pam’s story was so beautifully written that I found myself sitting in the circle she described, drinking my own cup of hot chocolate or coffee, or both, that I stopped reading and went to make myself a mocha coffee before returning to her tale.

Fry's Cocoa - Baking Cocoa (227g) – GoJava TorontoMemories were now evoked of the times my mother made for us, and that I later made for my kids, hot chocolate, using real cocoa from the yellow and red Fry’s can, sugar, and a small amount of cold milk to create a smooth, mud-like texture before slowly adding the hot milk while stirring it all together.  No lumps guaranteed if you make it this way.  Sometimes there were marshmallows, most times not.  Mom wasn’t into instant anything, except Minute Rice, but that was only for her rice salad, never anything else.

Why is it that things that take just a bit longer to make, meaning you had to wait for it, taste so much more?  To make this come-in-from-the-cold treat all the better, Mom served it with buttered toast.  And that’s another thing, what is it about afternoon or nighttime toast smells and tastes like it comes from a whole other dimension?  You can’t even compare it to the toast served with your eggs and yet it’s the same product.

Now I’m mad at myself for not making a toast to go with… then again, it’s not late enough in the afternoon to justify it.  I think this is my cue to go out and get my 10K steps.  There are only seven days left for me to be able to say I did it for one whole year.

For the Canadians and Brits and the areas in the States that celebrate, Happy Boxing Day!  For those with no holiday, Happy Sunday!  I hope you have been able to take time away from the hustle and bustle of Christmas preparations and over-eating and just be.

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #222 – Glow

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 was going somewhere totally different had I done this yesterday. But yesterday, I decided to not play in the blogosphere.  And today was a day that deserved a mention.

wk 222 glow

One yearyear ago today your life was snuffed out.  You were but twenty-two years old.  So much living ahead of you. It is so hard not to ask the question “Why?”  But then, why not? We are not in control of these things.

We move forward without the physical you. And we congregate with your parents and your loved ones; all the people your glowing persona touched in one way or another.

We raise a glass to you and consider ourselves blessed that your light touched us, no matter how briefly.

To you, Pat.

Petite Rivière Rouge

De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo hosted dVerse Quadrille yesterday.  Took me some finagling to get my 44 words to where I was willing to share them.  I shoulda chosen another subject because now my memories have come flooding in and this limitation is causing me grief!

 

Petite Rivière Rouge

where childhood memories were made

 

Pépère¹ bulldozed river rocks;

a sandy cove to protect our feet

 

When not being fished,

crapet-soleil² nibbled our toes

 

Rocks have since rolled back

and the river seems more

like a stream to our adult eyes

 


¹Pépère means “Gramps”

²Crapet-soleil is a fish, that, I just learned, is called Pumpkinseed fish – we are never too old to learn 🙂

MFFP - Poissons du Québec - Crapet-soleil

A Family Trip – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Wednesday!  And the last day of work for me, followed by a four-day weekend. Again. Wooo hoooo!  So, why not play a little with this lovely Russell Gayer image?  Thanks, always to Rochelle for hosting this weekly party.  I do appreciate your efforts, my friend.  Should you be interested in writing your own 100-word story to go with, just click on the frogs below and add you link!

Click to play

 

All five of us in a van for four weeks?  Have you lost your mind?

It’ll be great.  We’ll get a chance to see most of our beautiful country and part of the States on our return.

Five of us. Together. Four weeks.

Yes.  It’ll be great.  We each get one hour of music and no one is allowed to complain.

Hah! You think that is enough to stem potential arguments?

Have faith.

And you, have reality.

I do. And I think this will be a trip of a lifetime.

Or will feel like it lasts that long…

Shut up.