Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten the ball. Maybe if I hadn’t chewed it in bits she wouldn’t have put it in the bin. What if I’d just thrown it for her …Notes from a small dog: Squeaky clean
It shouldn’t be happening. Bowness-on-Windermere swans are notoriously aggressive, and yet these two are approaching me as though I were another swan…Approaching delight
It’s started off as another dull day, but the forecasters have said it might brighten up by the afternoon. Our day has nothing penciled in on the …Today is Tuesday 2nd March
Soft and tender Crocus, symbol of hope…Winter will end, Spring will come again and life will flourish.
Image Credit: White Flowers https://www.facebook.com/1242458439141527/posts/3638902416163772/
I knew something was up, as the pc had been making these strange electrical noises for a while now. So when it refused to load yesterday morning, my heart sank into my boots. I enlisted help from number one son, but between the two of us, fumbling around in computer murk, the only thing we managed to do was reduce our limited techno brains to mush.
We googled until our fingers were numb, but nothing helped. He gave in long before I did, but what can I say, stubborn is my middle name! Eventually, even I had to admit defeat and I went to bed with a sore head and a very heavy heart.
This morning, despite owning the wisdom of my years (what!) I tried again, only to receive the same message.
Time to look for a new one, or a refurbished one as I’ m not made of money…
This is supposed to be a new year, but nothing seems to have changed, not around here anyway. Just when I was getting my act together, too.
Depending on the time of delivery tomorrow, I may not be around much… I hope everyone is having a much better day than me…
February 25 2021, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the word frozen. It can be descriptive, character focused, action driven. Go out onto the ice and find a frozen story.
Frozen with horror by the razor-sharp edge,
the blade at my throat, the overlapping fear of warm blood
Free flowing from my body, zoning out into darkness
Falling into a world of blank memory, near to death
I see the dark cloaked figure of an angel gently waking my sleeping body
Not realising, my spirit had decided to jump around the room with joy
Without letting me know where the happiness comes from
I lie there wondering why I had been sent an angel wearing L plates
Would she pull the two halves of my body together in time?
© Anita Dawes 2021
Sundays are usually wasted days for me. As an example, I always call my parents on Sundays. We chat for about an hour, and I won’t sacrifice this time for anything.
Old What’s Her Face is also off today, so that means distractions and noise. She’s had the Harry Potter marathon on since last night and it started again first thing this morning. As much as I love these films, I’ve seen them hundreds of times and wanted something else.
I decided to go into another room and pick at my WIP. I also tried an experiment with dubious results. I’ll experiment a bit more, then it could lead to a post for Story Empire one day. It involves ambient noise while I write.
It started off with me monkeying with Alexa one day. There wasn’t a lot of choice there, but Staci Troilo set me up with an amazing…
View original post 492 more words
February 24th, 2013…
Someone I know well was recently diagnosed with a potentially life-threatening condition. He is in shock, having clung to the idea that he was dying for the decade I have known him with something like eagerness. To find there is finally a serious problem, pulled the rug from under his feet. He had been told, however, that it was reversible. The first time I saw him just after the diagnosis, he was talking of the lifestyle changes he would be making to reverse the damage.
A few days later I saw him again. By this time he was no longer talking about a way to health, but was going home to plan his funeral and choose the music he wants played. He is, without doubt, the most negative person I have ever encountered and his depressive fragility appears outwardly, at least, to revel in despair. His…
View original post 850 more words