No Go – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #124

Went through some of my pictures and came up with an idea to go with Crispina’s picture. Then the idea didn’t really go anywhere, so I decided to, once again, piggyback onto Na’ama’s lovely story.  Consider it part two to her part one. Found here. Crispina says we are to have fun, fun, fun… so I did, did, did!

No Go

“Aaron.  What the hell are you doing?”

“Well, Ella, I’m helping to ‘make it work’ as you said when we got here. I know the stairs are steep and I know they are rotted but you know it’s just a question of time before some curiosity seekers decide to risk it.  While those who do not know the path won’t find it from below, I figured I’d add a little extra deterrent to those who come from above.”

“I have to admit it’s quite something. The flowers are a nice touch, too.  You’re not worried it almost looks inviting?”

“Nah.  I figure people will admire my structure, wonder what it used to be, take some pictures and keep on hiking.”

“Let’s hope there aren’t others out there who are more inclined to explore…”

“Now who’s being a Negative Nelly?  Don’t worry, we are gonna be fine.”

 

 

Grounded – Friday Fictioneers

Happy New Year my peeps!  I hope 2021 brings you much love and laughter, joy and bliss, good health and prosperity and comfort – in your home, in your relations, in your work.  We’ve all had more than enough discomfort, haven’t we?

Thank you to Rochelle for hosting this party week after week and this week for snagging asking Na’ama Yehuda for her photo which caused me much grief because, like the clouds, were my thoughts. All ajumble.

Do click on the frog below to read more stories inspired by this lovely photo and maybe, be enticed to add your own?

Home - Frog Leg Mobility

How long she had been drifting? Weeks? Months? Years?  No matter. Time wasn’t measured up here. She was unfettered and loved the carelessness – or was it carefreeness? – of the wind, tossing her about at will, sometimes gently, lovingly; other times, violently, an exhilarating while scary feeling.

Dammit. By questioning her time spent, she knew it was over.

Reality was calling.  Gathering up the clouds, she braided them into a rope and formed a lasso.  With a flick of her wrist, she sent it out, caught the building and pulled herself until she stood atop.  Grounded once more. Ready for living.

The Right Thing – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #82

Well, hell. Here I was, minding my own business, reading blog posts when I happened upon Na’ama’s take on Crispina‘s lovely image below.  I dutifully left a comment, telling her she had no business leaving us hanging with her post and that I was probably not going to play as I had no ideas. We back and forthed in comments till she retorted with:  Wanna write ‘chapter 2’ to what I’d begun…?  And well, here I am. Nothing like being coerced challenged.  While mine can stand alone, please, do me a favour and read Na’ama’s post first right here before reading mine.  Thank you Crispina for hosting this here party weekly!  No matchy-matchy this week again 😉

The Right Thing

The attorney frowned at Juliette over his reading glasses. “You’re sure you want to leave that old farmhouse to this Morris guy?

Juliette nodded weakly. “Yes, it is the least I can do. Besides, I made a promise all those years ago.”

“An old promise. Ridiculous!  Does he even remember you?”

“I might have broken his heart.  I couldn’t tell him I had this heart condition. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to stay with me.  So I let him go.”

“That was a big decision for you to make for him.”

“Yes.  It was mine to make.”

“As a result, you dealt with this alone.”

“I felt it was the right thing. Better to break it off in the beginning than for us to get in deeper and then still have to lose me.  This way he had a chance at finding happiness.”

“I hope he appreciates this.”

From Dreams to Clutter

Earlier this afternoon, I was reading the lovely Na’ama Yehuda’s Tea Time poem which gave me the urge to make myself a cup of tea.  English Breakfast, to be precise.  The image she used to accompany her poem was taken by her niece, Smadar Halperin-Epshtein, and looks like part of a store specializing in tea paraphernalia, or at the very least all sorts of kitchen stuff.  My comment to her post was:

“If I could, I would include a picture of MY teapot collection.  And now, for some strange reason, I felt the need to plug in the kettle 😉”

I actually tried to insert a picture into my comment but knew it was for naught.  I told her I’d just have to do a post so she could see!  And well, dang it, here it is 😉

I wiped off the dust (what’s visible anyway) and took this picture.  I do have a couple more in my “store” as we call my sort of cold room, notably a Santa Claus…

I stared at my collection and reminisced about why I have so many teapots in the first place.  No, no, no, I was just collecting, like those who do spoons or plates from all over the world.  I once had a plan. These teapots would be put to use in my eventual tea house.  Family members, especially my sister, Lisa, started giving me them as gifts.  I don’t remember ever telling them to stop but eventually it became clear that they were just going to sit there.

Why, you ask?  Life got in the way.  First came the house, then the kids, then, when I started talking about starting my catering business, Mick announced he was going to leave his job and start his own business.  We couldn’t both take risks at the same time.  I believed in him and completely supported him all the way – his was a more lucrative business that could actually pay the bills rather than mine, which was an “unrealistic pipe dream”, anyway.  So I put mine aside.  And worked in offices as secretary/administrative assistant/supervisor, blah blah blah.  They can give it the title they want but it’s all the same difference.  I was good at it and paid decently so it lessened his stress.

Within a few years, Mick’s business was doing really well and I wanted to leave my abominable boss and boring-to-tears job and focus on my potential catering.  He balked.  I gave in.  Till I got myself liberated 😏.  Yessiree.  I made sure I was liberated.  Which was smart in the end, as I had a contract and they had to pay me five months’ salary.  I had done catering jobs here and there plus personalized birthday cakes, over the previous twenty years, but now I could focus on getting more contracts.  I started making meals for busy families.  I started working on my website (forget it, it’s shite, right now), I did corporate lunches here and there.  That dream was still in the back of my mind but growing dimmer.

And then Mick died.  And everything changed.  I still did meals for about a year after but that was just not lucrative enough.  I got offered the job at the golf club and slowly stopped catering.  The idea of owning my own little tea house has gone to the wayside.  I’m too old for that type of business now.  No, don’t argue.  I am at the stage in my life where I don’t want to be stuck to such a business.  And I don’t want to look into a partnership either as that brings its own headaches.

My house is for sale.  I want to downsize.  I want to travel, breathe, live.  I will find something else that will permit me to do just that.

Those teapots?  They are now officially clutter and need to be “Kon-maried”.

Ironically, as I was writing this post, Na’ama wrote another poem that arrived in my in-box bearing a message that spoke to me, effectively book-ending my little musing.  Do go read it, it is absolutely lovely, it ends with these words:

“You’ll find the path

To follow when you

Wake.”

— Na’ama Yehuda