Not So High Fidelity

Posted on March 19, 2018 by Dale | 51 Comments

I love how Gusto TV – a channel reserved for cooking and lifestyle shows reserves Sunday nights for movie night. It used to be reserved for a “foodie” movie – anything that had major scenes with food (like Big Night or No Reservations) which I love, by the way. However, last night it was “High Fidelity”, starring John Cusack, Jack Black, Joan Cusack, etc. – no meal preps or grand dining scenes to be found here. At all. No matter, I set the PVR because for some strange reason, despite my love for both John and Joan Cusack, I had never seen this 2000 film. I watched it tonight.

And it got me to thinking. Why is it I have no particular memories per se (save for a very few) that I can go back to in great detail, bringing forth the feelings and emotions and music and weather and atmosphere of that particular moment and put them to paper, so to speak, as so many fabulous writers do? I follow quite a few bloggers who have this talent.

Is it because I lack depth? Do I flit and fly over everything, barely paying attention to the moments, not registering the happenings because I am above it all? Am I going to end up in therapy one day to find out that I have locked it all away until one day I burst?

Why is it my sister Lisa can remember when our sister Tracy started walking? Lisa would have been close to 4 years old (I assume Tracy started walking around age one) and I would have been seven-and-a-half. Was I too busy to pay attention? Did I not care about such things? This really bugs me. I know I was probably too busy hanging upside down on the monkey bars at the park with my friends to bother with little sisters and their milestones. Still.

Am I Charlie?

Time for Contemplation – Friday Fictioneers

Posted on August 16, 2017 by Dale | 93 Comments

Good afternoon, Fellow Friday Fictioneers! Please allow me first to apologise for not reading each and each and every one of your stories, especially of those kind of you to leave me a comment on mine. I do strive to at least do that! It’s been a helluva week and I am running after my tail, so to speak, and feel like I’m accomplishing a whole lotta nuthin’ in the meantime!

I promise to try and do better this week, despite my late start! (You know, that is why some of us strive to write on Wednesday. It permits us to keep up. Usually.)

This photo stumped me most of the day. I was going to go one route but felt that was too predictive of me. So I stepped away, cleared away the last of the boxes in my dining room (yes, finally!), did a few loads of laundry, blah blah blah. and then this came to me. Hope you enjoy!

Thank you to Rochelle for herding us wild things each and every week and for supplying this week’s photo, to boot! Click on her name for the rules and regs and, should you wish to add your two cents’ worth or read other fabulous stories (not that I’m assuming mine is fabulous….), please click on the blue frog below!

Time for Contemplation

She let the warm water caress her skin, washing away all the stress, sorrow, sadness and angst. There were so many things taking up space in her mind. What was it about showers that did more than clean one’s body?

It was almost the best part of her day. Alone. Warm water. Peace and quiet allowing her to contemplate. Dream. Cry. Make to-do lists. Plan vacations. Pleasure.

“Moooooooo-oooooommmmm…….”!

Like a needle dragged violently across a vinyl record, her reality came screaching in with the slam of the door against the wall.

Sigh.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I need a glass of juice!”

Friday Fictioneers – Discarded

Posted on October 28, 2015 by Dale | 107 Comments

Friday Fictioneers is here again! And not only is it here, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, our fabulous leader has chosen MY photo. (It’s the small things in life that give us the biggest thrills.)

If you would like to try your hand at writing a 100-word story following a weekly prompt, just click on the blue frog. If you just want to read the fabulous submissions, click on the blue frog!

Word count: 100

Discarded

She loved walking with her dog along the river, adjacent to the woods. He loved it as he could run free, jumping into the water without her stopping him – mostly!

Her mind wandered at will, feet cushioned by the soft earth, while breathing in fresh air; quiet but for the lapping water, occasional quacking of ducks or songs of the various birds.

Oh dear! How, or more importantly, why, would anyone just throw away a chair into the river? And probably after years of service, doing its duty, it’s part.

One day useful, next , discarded, no longer necessary. Like her.