Today’s agenda: 24 April

pensitivity101

Again, not much.
As is the norm, I read our utility meters and know the electricity will be massive compared to normal as we have had power tools going for the kitchen and also cut the grass. We usually use between 2 and 3 Kwh a day, but I had an email to supply meter readings on Friday and we were already up to 10 after 2 days. I calculated our bill and we are £2 short overall, but a payment is due to go in on the 27th, so I’m not worried.

A field trip is planned but where hasn’t been decided yet.
Dinner today is going to the horrendously calorific corned beef hash. I haven’t made one for years and we have tins in the cupboard that should be used. I’m looking forward to it!

I woke up this morning being serenaded by a blackbird on the fence…

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The Secret Art of Journaling

sisterhood of suspense

“Everybody allows that the talent of writing agreeable letters is peculiarly female. Nature may have done something, but I am sure it must be essentially assisted by the practice of keeping a journal.” ~ Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey.

Despite Miss Jane’s quotation above, what do Marcus Aurelius, Louisa May Alcott, Thomas Edison, Leonardo Da Vinci, and Epictetus the Roman Slave have in common? They all kept extensive journals, recording their wistful desires, their secret needs, and the history going on around them. Journals that historians have found, read, and preserved for future generations.

While it’s fun to read other people’s words, especially those written during epic historical times, the beauty of these scribblings  is that they were never meant to be public. They were private conversations between the writer, his head, and his heart. I’m sure if Epictetus knew one day, over two thousand years after his death, that his…

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99 Word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

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April 18, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about gender. It can be fixed or fluid. Explore the topic on your own terms and open your mind to possibilities and understanding. Go where the prompt leads!

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Boys and girls

My mother’s despair plain to see

At my unladylike behaviour

As I climb the conker tree

With my dress tucked inside my underwear

To beat the boys was my game

I take my brother’s double cap gun holster

Make my own bow and arrow

Dolls and frills were not for me

Until a daughter came to me

I dress her in silks and frills

As my mother would have liked to see

Quite the woman I turned out to be

My daughter never climbed a tree

No guns, no bows and arrows

Today’s boys and girls play the same…

AAAAA

How to Help…

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

How to Help

Trapped in silence, in a world not my own.

Golden castles on purple lawns, trees with leaves of blue beneath

Pink clouds on navy skies, with orange stars like staring eyes

Golden bridge leads to clock tower bright, beyond the castle gate,

Through shining castle walls she stands,

Her heart beats in frozen time inside her flowing gown

Eyes that search for hands to touch, to take from wizards spell,

Her body that he snatched, held inside a rock of old

A doorstep now to his castle black, quantum leap I need,

 As I watch children play under midnight skies

They sing of a time when their golden castle will return

To bricks and mortar, with a queen they can touch.

I cannot find a way to help. In silence held by wizard’s spell

To echoes beyond golden castles gate…

AAAAA

Beyond the Light #Writephoto

Myths of the Mirror

copyright Sue Vincent

On my last day, the impenetrable rain finally clears, and my hostess suggests a walk. I’d rather stare out the window and wallow in my disappointment. But her enthusiasm won’t be thwarted, and I can’t very well blame her for the weather.

We venture through her back gate. A gray mist stalls between the trees’ black silhouettes, robbing me of a mere glimpse of blue sky. Spring has dawdled, and leafless twigs knit a dark filigree above the crooked boles. Only the mottled grass seems to have noticed the changing season, but it squishes beneath my feet and soaks my shoes.

I shove my hands in my pockets against the chill. “Is spring always this… dreary?”

My hostess chuckles. “It depends on your perspective.” She steps aside and beckons me to stand in her place.

I smile at her attempt at humor and comply. The morning sun…

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Smorgasbord Blog Magazine Weekly Round Up – Easter Parades, Short Stories, books and guests.

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Welcome to the posts you might have missed during the last 8 days… a little later than usual as I have been taking advantage of the wonderful weather over Easter and have been away from the screen for most of each day.

The two Easter parades have been great fun for me to put together and I am thrilled with the wonderful behatted guests who have participated. A little music, dancing, funnies and genuinely lovely people who are all very supportive of me and the blog.

It is not too late to pop in and add the link to your latest post and your Amazon Link.

How many of these guests or their representatives do you recognise?

Easter Parade Saturday.

https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/20/smorgasbord-easter-parade-blog-party-part-one-eggellent-time-to-add-your-links-music-dancing-food-and-behatted-guests/


https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/22/smorgasbord-easter-parade-blog-party-part-two-music-dancing-food-behatted-guests-and-time-to-drop-you-links/

And here are the other posts from the week.

William Price King shares the life and music of jazz pianist/electric keyboardist and composer Chick Corea.

https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/16/smorgasbord-blog-magazine-the-music-column-with-william-price-king-jazz-pianist-electric-keyboardist-and-composer-chick-corea/

The House…

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Grockles everywhere

pensitivity101

It’s been another glorious day, and here we are at 10pm, the temperature is 19º C and I’m hot and uncomfortable.

We had a late start to the day, then we had the Ratilda episode.
However, after breakfast (!) we decided to give Maggie some quality time and go for a walk along the prom.
We got waylaid by our neighbours, and didn’t start our walk until 11.30, but we’d kitted ourselves out sensibly with bill and ben hats and long sleeved lightweight cardies to protect us against getting burnt.

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