Mooring

23rd Feb 2017 

We are busily getting ready to have visitors at the weekend  for the celebration of our Sapphire Wedding. My health has not been so good , so my dear hubby has been working hard doing it all.
I am so looking forward to seeing family and friends. I can't wait.





Six sentences .  Prompt word - second


Mooring

Henry put his beer can down next to the tiller and concentrated  on easing  the old girl gently into her mooring, trying to avoid colliding with the towpath as she bobbed about in the early evening breeze.

He crawled along on all fours thinking,  this is not to do with my drinking, it's just that the ruddy wreck can't be still, just like her previous owner.

He got the rope and tumbled out, managing after a few tries and some frustrated remarks to secure the barge to it's post.

He'd inherited the boat sixteen  months previously when his wife died, murdered actually, and he'd wanted to get away for a bit, which the money from her will provided for nicely.

The investigation was ongoing as the police, although they'd interviewed one man for a second time, hadn't arrested anyone yet.

Good luck with that, thought Henry as he went back on the boat, all the evidence is underwater now and maybe I'll get a new boat and start over .

Washing Up

16th Feb 2017

Another six sentence story:
The cue is "sink".

Washing Up

Walking in the front door, she picks up the post and her gaze goes straight through to the kitchen, to the sink, piled high with dishes, the sound of a plop from the  tap ,  mirroring the drip from the overflowing sink onto the floor.

Oh my goodness, she thinks,  I’ve only been away two nights helping Sarah with the new baby couldn't he at least have tidied the  kitchen  for when I got back.

Turning the tap off she picks up her bag , turns to go upstairs wondering where he is and deciding that he's  probably with his mates down the allotment.

Wearily, she climbs the stairs, glad to have time to herself so they don't have a row about his lazy behaviour, which she is just not up for today.

“That bloody man, left the ruddy toilet for me as well,” she says out loud, as a strange smell catches her unawares at the top of the stairs.

In their bedroom she stares in disbelief as she sees her husband lying there and going  over to him finds his cheek ice cold to her touch.

Coffee Cream

14th Feb 2017

A short Valentine's Day story . Hope you like it.

Coffee Cream

“That was so good. We should do it more often,” Paul smiled, raising his glass of red wine, clinking it with his wife’s, “cheers love.”

“Yes, we will, we will,” Lucy  hoped she wasn’t over enthusiastic in agreeing.  She looked around at dirty plates, waning candles - evidence of their special Valentine’s Day meal and she didn’t look forward to another effort so soon.  All she could think of was being with Josh.

“Look, there’s a chocolate left, you have it dear,” leaning across the table he handed her the heart shaped box.

“No, it’s for you, you have it,” her eyes held his in a warm, knowing gaze as she pushed it back to him. How could she love both at the same time? And when she was with one, always wanting to be with the other? But that’s the way it was. He was speaking again.

“Come on, Luce, it’s coffee cream, your favourite.” he took it out of the box and tenderly offered it to her. She didn’t take it.  He put it on her side plate.

“ I want you to have it,” she said, “ you always let me have the last one. It’s your turn. And I won’t hear another word about it.” She picked up the plate and placed it in front of him. She tried to be a good wife. And she did love him.  A heart shaped chocolate was such a little renunciation compared to all the times she had been too distracted with Josh to even get his dinner on time.  Even now she wondered how he was. Was he pining after her like she was him.

“Shall we sit on the sofa?” his soft words coaxed her and his arm reached out for hers.  “We’ll sort it out like when we were courting.  You remember?”  She wasn’t quite sure she did. He took the plate with him.

“ Mmmm,” sighing  she slumped down next to him.

“Here,” looking into her eyes he bit the chocolate in two. He ate one half. The other he slowly, seductively eased into her mouth, “share and share alike, that’s what I say, just like the old days.” He moved his hand from her mouth to her cheeks and to her eyes, that touch of his that always sent waves through her body making her feel fluttery and thrilled at the same time.

“How long have we got?” he drew her closer.   

“She said she’d have him all night as long as he slept.”

“He’ll be fine then.”  He pulled her off the sofa, “He’s over a year and your mother’s good with him. Let’s go...” and taking her hand, he climbed the stairs ahead of her. 

Our Daily Bread

8th Feb 2017


Just to say, the visits to my blog have just gone past 27000. Thank you loyal followers . And all those who write such encouraging messages either on the blog itself or on facebook or google, know that you give me the greatest lift when I read your words.

Six sentences:

Our Daily Bread

She whispered a prayer to herself,  Give us this day our daily bread, as she put one foot in front of the other, covered head bent against the wind.
The baby on her back was hungry and whimpering whilst the toddler stumbling  beside her battled the mud in his bare feet, hardly able to keep going
Her home a heap of rubble, her husband killed,  Maria with hundreds of others,  now headed for Calais, where they hoped to find shelter and safety.
She repeated her prayer many times as each mile they went seemed more difficult and all she wanted to do was stop and rest, but she had to go on.
Every night the whole group would huddle together for warmth and some would go and beg for food if they were near a village, sometimes coming back with a meager portion to share between them.
On the last day Maria was cheered because the weather had picked up, and when they got to the camp volunteers came out to meet them and greeted them warmly, giving them a meal, clean clothes and shelter, for now....

Coastal Walk - 13 Miles

6th Feb 2017


Coastal Walk from Herne Bay to Margate - 13 miles.

We sat on a stone seat just before Birchington, about five miles into our walk, to have a coffee.  I was not sure that I could carry on and was working out in my mind how far we were from the nearest train station.
My feet were sore and I was convinced that if I went much further I'd get blisters.

However after a warm drink and a rest I was revived and decided to go on if my husband wanted to. The previous three miles had been tough - the open sea with wind almost picking you up off the ground added to the thought of another three hours to go . But he was up for it so off we went.

Now all we needed was to find the toilets. Birchington  turned out to be further on than we'd thought. No toilets to be seen .
                                          About half an hour later, we found some
at West Bay. I would not have used them had I not been desperate.

It was a spur of the moment decision to do a practice walk last Friday and it took a while to get ourselves out of the house. Although the sun was shining, the forecast  for the rest of the day wasn't good. So we said we'd play it by ear.

The way to Reculver was familiar to us and there were some interesting things to see along the way, mainly little communities of dog walkers. The humans standing in a huddle with their "friends" while all their the canine pets ran about, happy to be out. And people taking their leave saying " Got to go, see you tomorrow. Hope Jinny feels better, give her my love", at which point they all decide to disperse. Yes, a proper unified group.
It's true what they say, if you move to a new area, you either need a new baby or a dog to  make friends. People speak to you if you have one or the other.  Having had children around me for many years, it seems to me that the dog option is preferable for that.
   



So we said goodbye to Reculver and after a while trod uncharted territory - well, for us anyway. We prayed as we went along silently and also did the rosary. This will be part of our Camino later.

Just further along in West Bay we came to a cafe . A beautiful spot where people were eating lunch and enjoying the sheltered bay to get a bit of warmth from the sun.
We find a spot on the wall near the cafe and sit down to have another coffee. Hubby gets out his sketch book and we while away a half hour or so, watching people coming and going . Here is hubby with cafe in the background . You can just see his sketch book.

And here is what he was looking at.



And so, we're off again. And it seems to be bay after bay, in and out of the shade and on and on.

Walking has a meditative effect after a while and you just keep putting one foot in front of the other. And as you do your senses start to pick up the natural world around you . You become aware of the whooshing in and out of the sea, of the gulls squawking, and when the path takes you a little way off from the sea, of crickets in the grass and the sweet sound of the more delicate smaller birds.
       The rythym takes over and you give way to it.

At last we see a view of Magate. And we keep walking. And walking . The white boxlike building that is the Turner Centre gets no closer it seems.

But,

 five hours later ( should have been four by our calculations, but at least it wasn't six) we get there. I am so chuffed we made it .

Are we glad to get the train back to Herne Bay and walk the final mile home. 

When we do our Camino this will be the daily length of our walk  - or even a little bit further. More practice is needed , I think.