Sometimes on the way to your dream,

you get lost and find a better one.

Friday, January 30, 2015

Wednesday's Words on a Friday



On Wednesdays, Delores, from Under The Porch Light, has a word challenge meme which she calls “Words for Wednesday”.

She puts up a selection of six words which we then use in a short story, or a poem.

I’m hopeless at poetry so I always do a story.

It’s a fun challenge…why not join in?

This week's words are:

1. interference
2. plunging
3. magnanimous
4. gentry
5. brush
6. indelible

we also have:

1. impartial
2. thatched
3. glower
4. birdbath
5. inhumane
6. iridescent

What a selection!

Here is my story:


Mr Thomas Walford Jnr, ran his house with a tight rein. There was a strict schedule and no interference was allowed. Precision ruled his days. Things must happen in their proper time and place. Even small matters such as the cleaning of his hairbrush were fixed in time and space.

Every Saturday morning at precisely nine-thirty, Thomas showered and shampooed his hair. Therefore, at nine am, his brush must be washed, rinsed and left to dry in the sunshine. One simply must not brush freshly cleaned hair with a dirty brush.

He had been this way since that fateful holiday ten years ago, when he and Simon, both nineteen, had been para-sailing off a remote beach in Havana. High above the ocean, the wind had suddenly dropped and Thomas's last memory of that holiday was of plunging towards the water at great speed while Simon watched, horrified and probably terrified too, from the speed boat which had been towing him. 

Thomas had woken a week later, with fear indelibly printed upon his mind, to find Simon sitting beside his bed and his father, Thomas Snr, glowering at both of them from a chair on the other side of that bed. 
The para-sailing had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, and those must never happen again. Planning and routine, that was the way to go.
Upon arrival at the near-primitive hospital in the village Simon had taken Thomas to, Thomas Snr had been pleased to find that his son was being treated as impartially as the rest of the patients. Being a member of the gentry made no difference at all to the doctors and nurses there.

Once assured that Thomas had no physical injuries, his father had arranged for a private jet to fly him to the Boston hospital he had been born in, the very same where generations of Walfords had been born. As a thank you to the doctors and nurses, he had magnanimously paid for a new ward in the hospital and new thatched roofs for the small village of fishermen who had helped Simon bring Thomas to that tiny hospital. 

Now, ten years later, Thomas appeared fully recovered, but the change in his nature was great. Gone was the devil-may-care attitude that had seen him almost expelled from college several times. Gone was the happy-go-lucky fellow that had endeared him to his many friends. 

Each morning at eleven, his therapist arrived and they would talk about the past, the holiday, and what Thomas had planned for the week ahead. Thomas would reach for his neatly written diary and review the schedule therein. The therapist, Mr Butters, wanted him to try a day, even half a day, without a schedule. Leave a blank page in the diary and just do what came to mind.
At first, Thomas had thought him inhumane, cruel, for pushing him this way, but after ten years, he was beginning to think that maybe Mr Butters had a point. Sooner or later, something unexpected was bound to happen and if he, Thomas was unable to "go with the flow", he might very well be stuck here in this precisely run house forever. 

He sat this morning in his garden, near the birdbath watching the dragonflies flitting here and there on iridescent wings and decided the time had come. He must begin to move forward! 
With Mr Butters' help and his family too, Thomas would leave an entire day blank in next week's schedule.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Thursday Thoughts #31



"You can't improve on perfection. That's why it's called perfection."

"....went to the fridge. I made a sandwich of things. I'm an American. We can eat anything as long as it's between two pieces of bread. With enough mustard......."

"Thin, built like someone who ran or rode a bicycle on their weekends. Clean cut without being particularly memorable, medium brown hair, medium height, medium brown eyes.
The only exceptional thing about his appearance was that there was nothing exceptional about his appearance."


Hey, look at that. Three quotes for the price of one. Heh.


Have you all read the papers about this Robert Allenby  fellow who was "bashed and robbed"?
Our Saturday paper dedicated a full two pages to this story. I didn't read it thoroughly, just skimmed over, so I've already forgotten the details, but these two paragraphs caught my eye:

"And what of that star witness, a homeless woman seemingly destined for involvement in something like this from the moment she assumed the name Charade Keane?
You almost hope this ends up in court just for the spectacle of a woman called Charade taking the witness stand. 
"Miss Keane, could you tell us what you saw that night? Six words? First word? Sounds like?"

That would be hilarious!

Now let's get serious.
I'm a little upset. Okay, I'm a lot upset.

Reasonably close to my flat there are several large pine trees. Possibly not all the same variety, but they all have needles that fall and cones which the cockatoos love to eat and throw on the ground.

Last week, I noticed two of these, close to the back of one block were being cut down. I took photos of this destruction, as I do, and asked a neighbour who was also watching the chainsaw in action, if she knew why the trees were coming down.

Apparently the woman who lives closest to those trees had complained many times about the needles and cones filling the gutter on her garage and the garage being flooded each time it rained. 

So the trees came down. No shade anymore for her. Nor for the upstairs flat. None for the cockatoos either!

There is a maintenance crew which clears the gutters once a year on the buildings, maybe twice, but the garages are single storey blocks and I would have thought someone could be spared to clean those gutters more often. Perhaps someone sentenced to community service for whatever reason.

Yesterday, I heard the sound of the chainsaw and again today. 

On my way to the shops, I looked for it and saw the cherry picker platform, complete with chainsaw wielding tree bandit way up high in another pine tree, right next to one that had been reduced to a single branchless trunk yesterday. Branches were being cut, lowered and chipped. It seems these trees will also be coming down. 

I don't know the reason, maybe they are old and diseased. If I ask I'm sure that's what I would be told. But they seem healthy to me. And where will the cockatoos go now? Into the city parklands where I won't see them nearly as often? Into the city parklands where they will make a similar mess with the pinecones until people start complaining? Will even more trees be cut down?

these are the first two trees that were cut down. The shorter, lighter green one in front, with the larger tree several metres behind it.

only the trunk left of the shorter tree on day one and I thought that was the end of it...it was the only tree hanging over that garage block.

then came day two...and the return of the cherry picker platform.

soon more branches were gone, from the big tree this time.

support ropes as that first trunk was cut at the base.

starting up the chainsaw,

cutting the branch,

swinging it down.

only the upper canopy left now.

this is what I saw when I got home a few hours later.
That trunk is gone now, through the chipper.

A break for the weekend, and yesterday it began again. 
I can't take more photos, I'll cry.










Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Whimsical Wednesday # 160

Welcome back to Whimsical Wednesday!

The day for your googled giggle that gets you over the hump that is Wednesday and sliding down into the weekend.

Today's funny comes to us via fishducky.

thank you fishducky.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

oh no, not again

I've just heard on the news here that a blizzard of historic proportions is bearing down on the USA.
Didn't y'all have enough of that last year?
Has Mother Nature misplaced her calendar from last year so she doesn't know where to send this year's blizzards?
Send one to the Sahara desert, they could use a little cooling down I'm sure.
Death Valley too.

Side note: what are "historic proportions"?  Would that be bigger than anything seen before in history?
That would be epic! 

I hope you're all ready. 
Got enough toilet paper?

Joanne; got enough road salt?
Delores; stocked up the pantry?
Pearl; lefty and stumpy in good condition? Know where your mittens are?
fishducky; wrap a quilt around yourself. insert a zipper to hold it together. cut armholes if you wish.

Monday, January 26, 2015

was I foolish or wise?

Remember the advice from the Heart Foundation?
We should all walk 10,000 steps per day in the interest of keeping our hearts healthy.

Sounds like a great idea. For a sloth like me, doing them all at once is probably not a good idea.
I think spacing them out over the course of the day is a better idea. Walking every day would be a good idea too. How far is 10,000 steps anyway? I never count my steps.

So here's what I did. 

I went to the movies. I saw Big Hero 6, it's an animated movie and quite good.
The cinema is quite a long distance away, (well it is on the map), but the bus trip doesn't take too long.
Anyway, I got out of the cinema about five minutes too late to catch the bus home and being a public holiday the next one wasn't due for an hour.

So I decided to walk until I heard the bus catching up with me. You know how it goes. Walk to the next stop, check and see if the bus is coming. Keep going.

Off I set, walking, walking, walking and it turned out to be not all that far after all.
It's a distance I used to be able to walk easily.
I stopped for a rest at a bus stop I knew well, another fifteen minutes walking and I'd be home. But just as I got up to start walking again, the bus appeared and I got on.

I expected to feel achy after sitting down here at home, but so far I'm okay. Was I foolish to walk so far when I haven't done it for some time? Time will tell. I may very well be stiff and sore tomorrow.
But I have things to do tomorrow, things which will use those same muscles, that should help ease any stiffness.

And I did enjoy the walking. I was kept company part of the way by four ravens (crows?) who cawed at me at each corner. I saw some lovely gardens too.
I wish I'd had the camera with me, but who takes a camera to the movies?


Here's a quote from yesterday's newspaper.

""Every time you make a typo, the errorists win."

Australia Day

Today is Australia Day, so I thought you might all appreciate an appropriate cartoon.

The great Aussie Barbecue.
Happy Australia Day!!

here is our national flag

and a description of the symbols

each state has their own version, that's mine centre top.

this is the flag of the indigenous people, the Aboriginals, original owners of this wide brown land.

and an idea for a new Aussie flag. It has a football, a beer stubbie, two sausages, uncooked by the look of them, and the black surface of the Aussie Barbecue.
(*~*)





Musical Monday #44

Now for something completely different, I bet not too many of you remember this.

Eddie Hodges.


I'm Gonna Knock on Your Door

I remember loving this way back when I was ....