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This weekend’s word prompt to get our creativity flowing, is “mourn”. Perfect timing as I lost my cousin Suzie yesterday morning. 61 is way too young, no matter the cause.
To mourn your cousin
The one closest to you in age
Is just so difficult
Only seven months difference,
I often teased her with:
“I’m older than you are, nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!”
It drove her crazy
I wish I could again
I’ll miss you, Suzie
Good Tuesday morning. I had this all planned in my head yesterday but then didn’t know how to get this going. So I used my late husband Mick’s technique and slept on it. It works wonders! Lisa or Li is the host of this week’s dVerse Prosery challenge. She has asked us to use the line: Bury me with the lies I told from Alejandro Escovedo’s song “Bury Me” in our 144-word story. The rules are to use the lines of this song, a form of poetry, right? in a non-poetic way. We cannot change the order of the line, nor add any words but we can change the punctuation. I so love this challenge and, once again, Mick was my muse. Words are different, but the story is the same 🙂
I remember our conversation like it was yesterday. We were watching some TV show, and you turned to me all serious – as serious as you can be, which was rare because you brought levity to everything, and you said to me, “I don’t want you to bury me with the lies I told, my truths, my failures. No, I want you to take my ashes and set them free. Set all the lies – they were the ones I told myself, you know – the pain, the sorrow, everything bad I carry inside me, free. Let them go so they can disperse and cause none what I had had to bear. Try to keep the happy, the good, funny. … Oh, while I am at it, have sexy waitresses serve wings and beer at my funeral.”
Sorry love, I had to draw the line. No sexy waitresses…
On Monday, Merril hosted dVerse prosery. I knew exactly where I wanted to go with this one but felt I had to wait until today. We were to use the following lines:
“The granites and schists
Of my dark and stubborn country.”
from Nan Shepherd’s, “The Hill Burns”
from In the Cairngorms (Edinburgh: The Moray Press, 1934)
https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/hill-burns/
We must use the lines of poetry in a non-poetic prose piece of 144 words. This is where it let me.
Today, this eleventh day of December, is a regular day to most, but for me? It marks the eleventh anniversary of the day when the world I knew changed. Forever. Where things suddenly shifted like the granites and schists of my dark and stubborn country, or, to me, my world. No matter how much your mind can travel to thoughts you have no reason for having, you can never be prepared for the reality when it comes. I cannot explain the why of my thoughts. Premonition, maybe? A sense of knowing that things would not be forever, or at the very least, for another thirty years? Maybe it’s simply self-preservation to expect (or prepare) for the worst, so there are no surprises. So you can be strong. It worked twenty-nine years ago, to help me not lose my mind. It could help again. Right?
Good Thursday morning. I really wanted to write this yesterday as it really was the thirtieth anniversary of my first date with Mick but dang if time was not on my side! Rochelle has chosen one of her own photos which sparked a precious memory for me. I would have needed more than 100 words but the rules is the rules! Should you want to participate, please click the frog below and add your link. Lots of great stories are to be found. G’head, add yours!
Click to Link
I love to talk about our first date (thirty years ago yesterday) and how it never ended but do you remember our second date?
We walked halfway across the bridge to LaRonde amusement park, rode the rides – you even won me a stuffed leopard (still have) – but I think the best part was walking back over the now-closed-for-fireworks bridge (the wrong way at first) in the rain, laughing all the way. You then impressed me by having a sweater and blanket in the trunk of your car to warm us up. I knew then you were a keeper.
Good Wednesday early evening, my peeps (for those in the eastern time zone, anyway)! Our fierce leader Rochelle has bullied coerced encouraged me to participate this week by using my photo! She is a sneaky one, that one. Can’t take your eyes of her for a second! That’s more than all right as I had a hankering to write a li’l something and now I’ve been sent down memory lane… If you wanna play, just add your link to my frog below and Bob’s your uncle! Not sure of the what’s what? Click on my pick and you’ll be dropped over at Rochelle’s where you can find the rules and regs.
Click to link
Out of the blue, I get a text from Régine: Hi how are you? Random question: What’s the name of our Corby colleague the guy in the wheelchair? It’s driving me muts and I can’t remember his name! Young guy, friends with Ben in Finance…
Me: I’m good, thanks. And jeez, Reggie! (I think…) Wait. Wasn’t it Dominic?
Régine: That’s it! Last name? Too much?
Me: Ya think?
Suddenly, I’m back at Corby, circa 1998, thinking of my now-sadly-late mentor Pat and one of her favourite expressions: “That guy is dumber’n a bag of bricks!”
Man, I really miss those days.
Love me the short ones, Sammi. Thank you kindly for hosting this party weekly. Should you wish to add your 19-word poem/story/essay/whatever… just click on the box below and leave a comment with a link to your story on Sammi’s blog.
Heart stops
finger naked
where diamond ring should be
Special gift from Mick
Despair profound
After
Two-day search
Found
**Almost three years ago, I freaked out. I probably removed my ring and put it in my jeans pocket. Mixed whatever I didn’t want to get all stuck in the ring. Forgot the ring was in my pocket and hung my jeans over the bedrail. When I searched through the pockets, it has obviously slipped out and hid in the folds of the bed spread. Two days of panic and despair and a ridiculous amount of relief when I found it.
When Crispina’s challenge came up yesterday, I thought, oooh, I am gonna play (tomorrow, which is today) because I have many images to do my matchy-matchy thing. Only when today arrived, I realised what day it is, so, change of plans. What day is it?
It is National Indigenous Peoples Day here in the northern half (Canada) of Turtle Island (North America). All day I’ve been listening to our national radio station CBC (yes, I still listen to radio) play Indigenous music. They always do, except today, it was exclusive. From pop to hip hop to classical. Some really good stuff that I’ve been enjoying for a few years now.
So, let this beautiful song be my guide.
I bloom for you
Taking root in the most improbable and difficult places
Opening up in the morning sun
A gift for you from me
So you can remember me as you walk along your road.
A little trip down my mother’s memory lane for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, with photo and hosting duties supplied by Rochelle. Click on Rochelle’s pic and swing on over to her place for the rules. If you are already ready, click on my baking frogs below and add your link!
Click to play
“Monique, you make pork roast and an apple pie while I’m at work.”
“Mom! I don’t know how!”
“You’ve seen me do it a hundred times. Put garlic cloves in the pork, salt and pepper and bake. Prepare the potatoes. You know how to make the pie crust. Mix the lard and the flour together until balls the size of small peas form. add a little water to bring it together and roll it out. You know the rest.”
And then she left.
Monique looked at her uncle, staying with them. “How much garlic, you think”?
“Dunno. A whole head?”
Good Thursday, my peeps. A day later than I usually post my Friday Fictioneers but hey, c’est la vie. Went down memory lane for this one, thanks to Lisa Fox’s lovely photo. Click on her photo to climb over to Rochelle’s blog where the rules and regs are. If you already know, or just wanna read more 100-word stories, inspired by said photo, just click on my frog below and enjoy!
©Lisa Fox
Click to play
Dale pedalled to her friend’s house and knocked on the side door. “Come in!”
“Hi, Mrs. Armistead.”
“Hi Dale. Lynne!”
“Hey Rogerbum! Ready to go to the country road?”
“You bet, Lynnie-Poo. We’re off to our favourite place.”
“Wonder if the horses will be out today.”
“I brought some carrots. How can they resist us, eh?”
“You girls make sure you don’t go IN the pasture with the horses.”
“No worries,” they chorused, grinning.
After feeding the horses, the girls crossed the road to their favourite clearing, next to one of the treehouses.
“Think this will be here forever?”
“Absolutely.”
** There is nothing left of a single treehouse; all has been cleared away, sadly.
Welcome to Wednesday! Mid-week. Hump Day. Opening day of Friday Fictioneers. This week, The chosen pic is from our lovely Ted Strutz. If you click on his pic, you will swoop over to Rochelle’s blog where the how-to’s are ‘splained. If you already know how, then hey, click on my frog and add your link!
©Ted Strutz
Click me to play!
“What’re you doing up there Jimmy?
I’m practicing.
For what?
For when I’m the man of the house and in charge of things.
That so?
Yep.
Hopefully, it won’t be for a very long time…”
Mom?
She twirled in her chair, “What’s up?”
Can you drive me to get my car at Frank’s? Pat gave me a lift home.
How very responsible of you. Let’s go.
You’re the best, Mom. Guess I’m not ready for that chair, yet, eh?
I was just reminiscing about our conversation back when you were six…
Yeah. We never thought it would happen so soon.
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