What’s the Word, Bird? – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Wednesday. Hump Day. First day to get your Friday Fictioneers on! As per, I seem to have a bit of a problem with creating fiction. I am once, again, taking the memoir route. What can I say? I must follow where the muse takes me.  If your muse takes you to an interesting place, then please do share! Click on the frog below and add your 100-words worth.  Thank you, Rochelle for hosting this weekly party.  And thank you, Douglas M. MacIlroy for lending us your image.

 

What’s the Word, Bird?

It’s funny how seemingly out of the blue a thought can cross your mind. Spark a dormant memory. You don’t even notice what triggered it (bird on a windowsill) but your mind starts roaming and a smile crosses your lips and a warmth spreads from your heart to your fingertips.

“What’s the word, bird?” was how he always greeted me.

“Tweet! Tweet!” was how I always responded.

‘Twas a silly exchange but one that shall forever remain a fond memory.

Mononcle* Royal, I cannot believe it has been twenty years since your twinkling eyes dimmed and your ready laugh silenced.

 

*I think I’ve mentioned it before but here in Quebec, or rather, in my family (and many other French families), an uncle or an aunt becomes “my uncle” and “my aunt” in one word. If I were to say I love my uncle, it actually will come out as I love my MyUncle.  J’aime mon Mononcle.

Still Life – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome, Readers!  It is Wednesday and time to get away from the news for a few minutes. Yep, this week, Rochelle has challenged us with Jeff Arnold’s lovely image. One that she, by the way, turned into a beautiful painting.  Should you care to add your own 100-word story inspired by this image, click on the frog below and add your link. Easy peasy!  Wanna know the rules? Click on Rochelle’s name and get ’em while they’re hot!

Still Life

She placed her “Writer’s Life” items just so, hoping to create a lovely still life to photograph. Two of her three loves were photography and writing; cooking was the third. Why the hell did she place both a cup of coffee and a glass of wine? Right, silly.  Coffee for the morning writing session; wine for the afternoon-to-evening one.  Her subconscious mind seemed to understand all the elements.  She took her pictures then sat down at the desk, reaching for the glass of wine as she mulled over her life.  Could she make a living by combining her three loves?

 

Rainbows, Smiles and Sunday Everyday

My last day of quarantine was yesterday. Thank goodness because, much as I am quite creative in the kitchen, I was starting to worry that things would turn drab as I was running low on pretty much everything.  You see, my family and I were fortunate to go on a cruise together. (Post about it to follow soon as I kinda got distracted on my return, for some reason.)  Yes, there was talk but it was faint and precautions were taken upon boarding and we sanitized everywhere we went so we felt pretty outside of the situation. Till we hit New York. Waiting for our plane the drone overhead was relentless as were all the TV screens.  We thought, shit… what the eff is going on?

Took it easy on Tuesday (11th) and worked Wednesday through Friday, receiving the stink-eye from a couple of the cooks.  Sorry, mates. We were not told to self-quarantine.  Until we were.  On Saturday, my boss called me to ask me to stay home just as I was texting him to say I had to stay home for two weeks from the arrival date, meaning, until the 23rd. All good.

I try to go out daily with Zeke for a walk, choosing less populated streets of which there are many.  Distances are kept and every “hello” is not only received but returned with a smile, to boot.  No one tries to get in ayone else’s space and that is fabulous. There are a few “rainbows in windows” campaigns going on and I have seen the proof. It is precious and beautiful to see. Most are handmade and even if not, who cares? It’s a lovely way of uniting us.

Speaking of uniting, it’s a mixture of disconcerting and heartwarming to see all the cars parked in the driveways, making every day seem like a Sunday, with people walking about, cycling, playing hockey (I had to assume this was a family who lives together).  You can see the distance between groups or individuals – a good sign that rules are being respected.

This last image was taken shortly before the ambulance arrived. You can see a person sitting on the ground with one helping her while others look like they want to go close to help (or snoop) but don’t dare – a good thing at this time.  I hope it was nothing serious.

In some places, I have finally seen signs of spring flowers working their way out of the frozen ground!  Not at my house just yet, but still. And, I’m surprised this photo turned out as it was so bright outside, I could not see a darn thing!

Speaking of every day being like a Sunday, that includes Sunday meals en famille, of which we have not been able to partake in a dog’s age because we all work different shifts and most of the time are at work when it should be suppertime. Sundays especially.  Soooo… with my “Empty the fride/freezer/pantry” campaign, I was doing a bang-up job…

Which brings me back to my opening paragraph.  Now that I was allowed to go shop, I did.  All in one fell swoop as I do not want to have to go out and expose myself more than necessary until it is necessary.  I was pleased to see that Costco had organised the lines – and were counting how many they let in: one goes out, one allowed in, keeping the numbers at, well, I don’t know how many, but judging by the space in there, it was quite low.  However, as you can see below, the peeps in front of me were certainly NOT keeping six feet between them.  I did and let the guy behind me know when he was in my bubble.

Got my goods and the staff did no bagging so I figured, no big whup, once I get to my car, I’ll do it there.  However. DISASTER! My case of beer was on the cat food bag and, unbenownst to me, and slipped forward until CRASH! It fell to its side and made like the Caesar’s Palace Fountain Show only sans lights and music!  I got a good beer shower as I righted the damn thing and waited as it did its thing. A kind samaritan gave me a half roll of paper towels and said he hoped I was thirsty. Um… These cans are 500 ml (17 oz) each!  Even if all six, yes, SIX, of them emptied half-way, that represents 1.5 l (3 pints) of beer – Not saying I couldn’t if push came to shove but yanno… it was a “bit” much and plus, they were room temp. So. I put a couple in the fridge and drank them – they were flat by then. Blech. and the rest is put aside for more beer bread…

Victims, a sad state of affairs.

After the horror of putting all my stuff away into the car, I had two more stops to make.  Some fruit and herbs and stuff that I can’t get at Costo. And what up, peeps? Has everyone decided to bake their own bread?  Not an ounce of flour to be found at either store I went to. And fuggedabout yeast… Yep. Looks like I’ll be making more beer bread should I run out of the store bought one.

The snow started to fall ever so lightly during my last stop.  The boys helped me empty my car and put away the groceries. By then, forget about cooking. I was spent and it became leftover time. And we had a variety (see above).

I was settled into an evening of watching “Lion” when I got a text from Linda: “Yo, Outside your window.”  Took a peak and waved, then opened the door, shouted for her to hang on, I’d get redressed and join her – yes, yes, six feet apart – with Zeke.  It was a winter wonderland!

Neither of us was upset with the snowfall. We know that March snows never last.  This was just about the prettiest snowfall we had all winter!  Of course, it’s officially Spring, so that must be it.

Nothing lasts forever…

 

 

 

Breakfast at the Diner – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday, my peeps!  I hope you are not all going stir-crazy in your homes while respecting your governments’ dictates.  Are you taking the time to eat meals as a family? Do things together? Take walks in the fresh air?  If some of you are like me and not able to work because a) you are quarantined (for me until Monday the 23rd) because of travel and/or b) your work is closed (as mine is at this point) then hey, let’s look at the silver linings and focus on other stuff while doing our part in sharing the love while staying apart!

In the meantime, we have stories to share on this photo provided by J.Hardy Carroll.  Thanks, Josh.  And thank you to Rochelle for keeping us busy, at least for a couple of hours, eh? Click on the frog below and read more stories or, better yet, add your own 100-word tale.

Click me to play!

Breakfast at the Diner

He came to the diner every day for a simple leisurely breakfast. Though he brought the newspaper with him, he barely read it, preferring to watch the folks sitting around him.  He especially loved weekends as there were more families.  The dynamic of these little units pinched his heart and constricted his throat.  Why did he torment himself with these images?  It was simple, really.  They brought him back to the time when he had the same thing. When he answered the endless “why” questions and she wiped their faces of sticky jam.  When they laughed and planned and dreamed.

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #145 – Abysmal

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 love this challenge, so thank you, Sammi.

Choices

Life is comprised of a series of aleatory happenstances. There is a fair mixture of dark and light, should we pay attention.

Those who focus only on the dark send their psyches into an abysmal place from which they feel they cannot escape.  A tragedy, if left uncared for.

Some see only the light, dismissing the dark completely; oblivious to it.  Is this a realistic choice? Is their life flat?

I like to think I am a mixture of both, taking from the dark and turning it to light, ever growing, always learning.

 

Over There – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #63

Hello, hello and welcome to Thursday!  Crispina has given us this cute little alpaca to play with this week.  And lo and behold guess what I have in my archives? You got it…  A little grass is greener on the other side happening here.  Hey, if you want to play, Crispina is open to pretty much anything.  Click here for the what’s what’s What!

Look at her over there, she is so lucky

She has friends to play with, she’s not alone

And is that a roof and a fence? She’s protected by the elements

Over There

Look at her over there, she is so lucky

She is alone, she doesn’t have to share

Green grass, no fence. She’s free to go where she wants

With a Thud

Here you are, feeling rather fabulous. The one who means the world to you tells you you are sexy. Your friends tell you you are looking great. Hell, you look at yourself in the mirror and say, Damn, Girl!  Looking good!.

You meet up with your beautiful and fabulous friend, Michèle, for a way-past-due lunch and you laugh and giggle and enjoy your tuna tartare and wine and dessert and coffee and next thing you know, you are the last ones in the restaurant and it’s been three hours of catching up.  A hug and a kiss and a promise it won’t be so long ’til the next time and we part ways.

I am right next to a large shopping mall so I figure I shall treat myself to something pretty and lacy. I have something in mind so I enter the store, walk around, don’t see what I want and move on to the next one.  Same thing until, bingo!  Exactomundo! And they have my size.  Now we’re talking. I enter the changing cabin, strip down to try on and suddenly, I am Cathy (shopping for suimsuits is just as disheartening).

So now my fabulous mood has vanished and I’m calling myself all sorts of names.  I chastise myself:  “Of course you had to ask for more croutons. Did you really need them?”

I get home, change into my workout clothes, bundle up and tell Zeke, who manages to work up a smidgeon of enthusiasm, that he cannot come as he is till limping and even if he were in fine form, I am on a mission and I have, no time for three hundred stop, sniff and pisses.  I look at my Fitbit and see I have 7000 steps to go. Or is it 8000? I don’t have my glasses and can’t see shit. Either way. I am out the door.

My pace is quick and my rant in my head turns into a composition for this here post. I walk and walk and walk. Check the Fitbit. Wha? Only 5K? Jee-zus.  Turn onto every curvy street determined to march off this mood.  Check again. 6K? WTF? Is this thing working?

Get to my house and I am a good 700 steps short. Screw it, I keep on and go once more around the block. I can’t believe it took me an HOUR to get my steps in!

I enter the house, pat Zeke on the head, strip and wash off because, despite being freeze-your-face cold, I have managed to work up a sweat.  Change back into regular clothes, take a look in the mirror, ignore my hat hair and note my bright eyes and rosy cheeks.

I then give myself a second scolding:  “Don’t you dare talk to yourself in that tone of voice again, Missy. D’y’hear me? You are fine, just like you are.  Next time go shopping BEFORE you eat lunch and drink half a bottle of wine. What the hell were you thinking?”