Six sentence / share

31st Jan 2017

Hi everyone I'd like to share something with you, not because the word for the six sentence challenge this week is "share" but because it's good writing and will resound with a lot of you mums out there. It's my daughter's blog. She has only just started but her writing is brill. Hope you agree.
Please read and comment

GODWHERESTHEMANUAL.WORDPRESS.COM

Also , here's this week's six sentence challenge :



Share



Di walked slowly into the beautifully decorated hall, her eyes scanning the roomful  of noisy, happy  people for the couple whose 25th wedding anniversary the celebration was for.
She nearly didn't come, knowing how difficult it would be to face John with his wife after having spent the last year or so being his confidant, listening to his "my wife doesn't understand me" stories, but as Debbie and John were her good friends she didn't want to let them down and found herself edging closer to where they were, surrounded by friends and family.
She had loved John, without him ever guessing,  since her first week with Bolings Solicitors, so when John came to her after work one evening and asked if he could share some secrets with her, she knew immediately that she had to make the decision whether to encourage his disillusionment  or to give him back his marriage.
As he hugged his wife close he spotted Di coming towards them and gave her a wink, a wink that said "thank you for today" , a wink she hoped nobody else had spotted .
She smiled back, deeply happy for them both but empty inside, remembering how conscientiously he'd followed her advice that it was the little things that mattered , like putting the bin out,  listening to her tell about her day, cooking her a meal and putting a candle on the table, and making time for her, to really love her.

Sinking ( given)

Thursday 26th January 2017

Six sentence challenge:

The prompt  today is : "given"

Staring at Tamara sitting quietly, playing with a jigsaw puzzle, Tracy asked, Lisa, half in jest, what she had given her.
Seeing her daughter calm and happy just made her feel more inadequate as a mother.
Tracy had decided it would be easier to go back to work than wear herself out trying to cope, by herself, with her hyperactive daughter.
Finding Lisa was easy and although she assured Tracy that, having had five children of her own, she would have no problem with three year old Tamara, Tracy was not convinced.
But now, as she walked home in the rain, she struggled with feelings of failure , overwhelmed her, even though in her work she was a respected, highly motivated professional.
She might well be able to hold her own in a firm of solicitors, but what good was that when, in the one area of her life that mattered to her most, she felt completely out of her depth.

Walking

The fire, the music, the variety of other customers, were all most welcome  after our hour long walk to Reculver in the biting cold. Even the coffee was reasonable and not Costa, which was it's overriding  good point. We sat and relaxed, me observing and listening, and my other half sketching the regulars at the bar. Later we discussed how they might be able to afford to prop the bar up , buying rounds for their friends and doing the same again the next day. Most ordinary people couldn't manage it. So we thought maybe we were in the company of lottery winners or people with inheritance left them or maybe even bank robbers.

24th Jan 2017

We'd planned our walk as part of our practice for walking the Camino Way, which we hope to do this summer We want to be fit enough to do the 500 (I think) odd miles over six weeks. 

And we do need lots of practice. 

We are thinking of walking from Herne Bay to Margate in the near future and getting the train back. That would be a four hour walk - more than we've completed so far.

But apart from all that there is the fact that we really enjoy the walking. Being out together, chatting as we go along, spotting things along the way. 

There is something that touches the spirit too. Hard to put into words.

And isn't the world full of dog walkers. You feel a bit strange just walking for the sheer pleasure of it.

Anyway, I'll keep you posted.

If you've done the Santiago de Compostella Pilgrimage I'd certainly like to hear from you.

Also, if you intend to do it - especially this summer.

Six sentences prompt - Turn

19th January.

Good morning everyone. What jot this morning to see a little blue tit on the tree in my garden. With the blue sky behind and beautiful through the branches it was just glorious. So, on went my walking boots and out I went to enjoy it more.

I'm going with a prompt today . Six sentences with the cue, turn.

Overturned

Steve carefully started packing the box, the one the warden had given him, with books , pens, personal possessions and the few photos that had been posted up on his cell wall for the last three years.
One of the pictures caught his attention and picking it up he slumped on his bed, staring at it, remembering a happier time with his wife and daughter when life was carefree and full of hope.
A tear fell on the image as he recalled how difficult the last few years had been for them all as they fought together to have the verdict overturned.
Fighting the appeal had taken its toll and the joy that he should have felt on this day, the day they had all been waiting for when he was to walk out into the world a free man, was buried in a tired preoccupation with the mundane  details of getting out.
As he taped up the box he wondered how he might pick up his life again, how he get would get work, and most importantly how he would make things right with his wife, who had struggled so much to keep things together.
Carrying his few belongings, he stepped purposefully out of his cell, walked down the long corridors lined with noisy inmates wishing him well, out through the great main doors of the prison and didn't even turn to glance back as he headed for the car that was waiting for him with its engine running.

Creeping into 2017

17th Jan 2017

That is officially the first time I have written 2017 in my blog. I know, I know, it's already the 17th day of January, so where was I, especially when I promised to be more active with my posts.

I have no excuse. Life has been busy as the Christmas holidays always are. We try to see all the children in the twelve days and by the the time the Feast of the Epiphany comes round we're pretty much exhausted and need to recharge our batteries. And then comes my birthday less than a week later and, of course, I want to have another chance of getting some of my brood together again ( seventeen this time) for a celebration . So, that having just happened last weekend I am crawling back to my words, albeit a little slowly. Not that I've left them behind altogether. I am still keeping my journal - almost daily. But I've been so tired that's all I've been able to cope with .

So I am just creeping into this New Year, on my knees, very slowly . What are my goals, what do I hope to have done by the time 2018 ( ouch, that was painful...) comes around? I looked back at the dreams I had for the year 2016 and most of them have not materialised, but they are the same ones for this year. One of them is to get an anthology of my poems printed/published . This is quite achievable if I am willing to do the work. So, maybe this is the year that will happen.

There are a few other things I'd like to achieve - Running 5k , swimming the crawl ....and more that I'll keep to myself for now. And I'm looking forward to the better weather to be able to go out running and walking more.

What would you like to achieve in 2017???  Share your dreams with the rest of us.

Before I Go

31st Dec 2016.

That will be the last time, unless by accident , I write 2016.
It's the end of another year.

I've not been writing much on my blog but I'm amazed that during the last month there have been over a thousand visits bringing the total to over 26,000. Now that's a wonderful thing to think that people are reading my words, such as they are , even when I'm not paying attention.
I would like to post more useful stuff, but I am what I am and what I post I post.
Thank you to those who follow me and write beautiful comments. Keep them coming because it encourages me a great deal to know that you have taken the trouble to write a few words for my benefit.

Have you got a wish for 2017  ?  Mine is that I get to write a lot more and get better at it .

So bring it on , 2017 !! Let's see what unfolds ...  And ...

Before I Go

Look back on the old year

Only to take the lessons and the good

Look forward to the new year

Hoping all works out best, as it should.

But live in this moment, be happy 

Now is your time to love, if you would 

A Year Ago, the Tears Flow

29th Dec 2016

Feeling a bit reflective about the past and how, no matter what we do, it stays with us.

Purple Pain

Although I try to keep away,
 to dwell only in today,
 my thoughts  go back to this time last year.
All  shadows, purple pain,
internal black rain,
often I'd look for a place to shed a  tear.
So much to endure,
it was heavy for sure,
with  so many  of my days  lost to fear.
But even looking back,
and following the track,
I'm left with the fact that things are still unclear.
But I need to let it go,
at least not let it show,
and welcome  the start of this brand new year.

Scaffolding/ Leaf

29th Nov 2016

This morning the rainwater that had collected in the garden tray had turned to ice. Yes, it is official it was freezing last night. But the clear blue sky, if you could ignore the cold seeping into your bones, was like a Tuscan summer sky, the morning light filling the garden helping to create the illusion.
With reds, yellows, oranges and browns set against the blue I could almost put up with the cold for the sheer beauty of it. But I will go out with scarf and winter coat and breathe out a foggy breath and it will not be pleasant. No, no matter how wonderful the scene outside , there is still ice in the tray.

Now for some words:

Scaffolding

This old building needs restoring after long grey years,

scarred with use and abuse, concrete slabs crumbling,

broken windows of shattered dreams, vacant eyes staring.

Shape a scaffold with forklift and crane...

and mascara  ...

Cover the cracks, the tracks, from every tear that smacks

of fear -

who hears anyway.

Fill in the holes of memory loss, though no one gives a toss,

that it's going that way.

Repaint the facade of this body, scrub white green slime-

disappointment and pain, stand tall again,

proud to be noticed.

Leaf

You were born in springtime, mama tree pushing you out as a brand new bud on your branch.

Delicate baby leaf, you unfurled to become a sweet, green promise. 

Fed by your tree with water and nutrients absorbed from the soil of ancestors, you grew 

And you, in turn, produced sugar sap - nourishment for your tree.

You opened up in the rays of the sun, played and danced through the summer 

of your life, veins giving you your particular leaf shape - individual to you.

You gave pleasure and hope to those who came by your wood in those fruitful long days, 

many who came went away refreshed and replenished by your colour, your light.

You, only being yourself, unaware how much you touched so many hearts.

This was your time, your season and with others you created a tapestry of wonder,

waving from your branch , giving your magic  to all who would see.

So when the temperature dropped and your green started to fade it was hard to take.

The first signs of yellowing took us by surprise, halted us in our tracks.

But with the shortening of days, orange specks appeared all over and a weakening began

with your edges getting brittle and other leaves falling to the ground all around you. 

Suddenly it was your turn, you let go and fluttered to the earth,

And you died in the autumn as it is right that you should, but it was hard.

Pork Chop/ Stir Up Sunday

24th Nov

More about food:

The Kidney

I just fancy one of those pork chops.  You know the ones,  

 thick meat on  bone-  juicy - with  kidney still attached. 

Of course, they don't sell them like that any more 

something to do with cross contamination.  

I loved that chop with kidney and generous helping of apple sauce.

 Didn't the meat taste better in those days? Or is it  the passing 

of years, as in "nothing is the same these days." Well, it isn't!

My mouth drools remembering -

 fat around fleshy pork-crispy, crunchy, crackling.

Served with mashed potatoes-

so full of butter - the taste as good as cream

        

Stir Up Sunday

It was that time of year again,

Lined up on kitchen worktop twenty pudding bowls,  empty, waiting.

 On the white, worn, pine table, holding years of family history, the tin bath,

the one passed down from mum’s grandma, that she had from her own grandmother,

the one that mum’s dad and  grandfather were  bathed in once a week -  father first, 

the one classed as vintage  now, which made mum laugh

Five eager, powdery, faces peered into the old bath filled with a mixture

of fruit, flour, tallow, eggs, breadcrumbs,  brandy and stout,

not forgetting the secret ingredient, which only mum knew and wouldn’t tell,

a delicious  treat for Christmas day - dad’s favourite.

A yeasty, musty, malt aroma filled the kitchen like a brewery.

Five little wooden spoons took turns to stir

always from east to west -  the way of the kings - each time making a wish.

Five little children asked questions - mum told them the story

of  Stir Up Sunday

Eternal Flame

21st Nov 2016

We had a moving service at church on Saturday to remember and pray for those loved ones who have died during the last year. Like an automaton I went along, not  feeling particularly happy about being there with all those others who also suffered a personal loss so recently.

 But that was, of course, the very thing that made it a moment of special Grace. A lady I knew there whose  son died just a few weeks ago was  with her daughter and grandson, being healed a little . Many of the others were friends who were also grieving and in some way the strength to be gained from us all remembering together was hugely powerful . Many of us shed a tear and comforted each other. 

Eternal Flame

Lit a candle for you both today,

And sat and had a little pray.

I miss you when I make the tea

I miss your jokes and revelry

I miss the stories that you told
Even if they were ones of old
I miss the way you knew all the news
The way you always shared your views.
I miss all our walks in beautiful places
The sea, and the hills, left smiles on our faces
I miss the way, mum, you made apple pie
I couldn't repeat it - how hard did I try.
And dad with your skill and intelligence
I was lucky if I'd got a bit of common sense.
One day we'll meet again I'm sure
When I find the way to the room next door

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