I must be an easy target
Once again I have been tagged
Wisewebwoman has thrown down the gauntlet
Construct a story in six words
A challenge accepted by Ernest Hemingway
And solved in the following way
For sale: baby shoes, never worn.
Now it’s my turn to compete
In words only six quite clear
My offering for your perusal below
Virtual Friends Become Real, Through Blogging.
Eamonn at Flowers Made Easy is holding a Mothers Day Blogging Competition with a prize for the best blog post about your Mum.
So if you have a happy, sad or fun story about your mum or about Mothers Day simply blog about it and add a link to http://blog.flowersmadeeasy.ie/eamonn into it the post and you will be included into the competition automatically based on your link back. You can add a “no follow” into the link if you like. We just think that it will be the easiest way to see who has entered the comp.
The winner will get a bouquet delivered to their mum on Mothers Day. The winner will be announced on Saturday, March 1st, 2008
I have written and made Podcasts about my mother several times over the lifetime of my blog and sending her flowers would be difficult since she died in 1996. Thankfully I will be away from home as the month turns to March and not quite sure when I will return. Flowers do not like living out of a suitcase any more than I do! Nevertheless I have a little story to add to the collection. The story is a true one and names have been changed.
Painted by Charlotte aged 8
As Marcia approached her 40th birthday she decided that it was time to make some changes. After all ‘Life begins at 40’ or so the saying went. Since her mother died she had lived alone in the family home. Her siblings were all married and she had plenty of young nieces and nephews to visit and play with whenever she felt like it. Offers to ‘baby-sit’ were gratefully accepted.
Having finished her chores for the day, she poured a drink and pulled the armchair a little closer to the fire. As she mused over the possible changes she might make, the phone rang. It was Lucy. Marcia and Lucy had travelled through most of their lives together since that first day at school where they were put sitting side by side. They first shared pencils then books & games, later it was sleepovers during holidays, chatting for hours about their hopes and dreams.
Marcia watched as Lucy met her sweetheart and fell in love. Mark was a fine tall handsome young man and soon he and Lucy had set the date for their wedding. Marcia never hesitated when she was asked to be bridesmaid and was helpful and efficient in everything she did. That was twelve years earlier and somehow love with that special person had eluded her.
Lucy sounded rather excited on the phone. They talked for ten minutes and then hung up. Marcia pondered over the conversation. Lucy had called to say that one of the girls in the office was leaving and that her boss was looking for someone to take over the position at short notice. Lucy had recommended Marcia and promised to call her. Now she was setting up an interview.
The interview went well and Marcia decided to make this the first step on the road to change. She was working directly with John and they made a good team, after a couple of weeks she realised that she looked forward to going to the office. John showed appreciation for all her endeavours. He invited her for dinner and she accepted. The talked easily together and she learned that John was a widower with 5 children. His wife had died with the birth of the last child. He was bringing them up with the help of family.
Time passed and the working relationship turned first to friendship and then to love. Marcia met the children and slowly they began to welcome her. John asked the all important question and Marcia said yes! The children were involved in all the preparations and looked forward to the wedding. Marcia & John were married with family and friends gathered to celebrate. The children stayed with grandparents while John took his new wife on honeymoon.
That night Marcia’s dreams were shattered. John had a heart attack at the dinner table and died. Marcia so soon a widow had to break the news to the children and all the family. The children were bewildered and blamed her for the death of their father. They gave her a very hard time over the next few years. Many times she felt like walking away, at one point she even packed her bags, but she didn’t leave. She stuck it out, slowly the grief eased and one by one the children grew closer to her. As they grew older they realised the sacrifice she had made for them, a sacrifice borne from true love.
Jefferson Davis has a new twist on an old theme for a meme. He decided that we should create a fictional character for the meme
Rules of meme are as follows:
- Introduce us to your character
- post the rules on your blog
- share six non-important things/ habits/ quirks about the fictional character
- tag at least 3 people at the end of the post and link to their blogs
- let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog
- link to the person who tagged you
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Pricilla is a model of sincerity, purity, tolerance, and honour.
When you first meet her, Pricilla seems too good to be true. She is careful, caring and obliging. Being a very trustworthy person she will not let you down. She simply wants to do everything right, and is the person everyone admires greatly.
If you make a list of the Pricilla’s in your life: aren’t they the nicest, most loving and scrupulously caring people around? They are born to give, to yield and to serve. Frankly speaking, most people take advantage of this special nature. No matter how old they get, they still only see and believe that all men & women are basically good, and constantly sacrifice their own happiness and comfort for the sake of somebody else. She will make a splendid companion. If you have a lifetime Pricilla friend, do not think that your worries are over. Pricilla friends are loyal, faithful and giving - only as long as they approve of you.
In order to keep your lifetime Pricilla friend, remember, and never try to force your opinions on her - A Pricilla Friend rarely asks for help and cannot graciously accept it. She does not say much - but when she does decide to speak, suddenly, nothing can stop her until she runs out of subjects. Pricilla is intellectual - a character with a great thirst for knowledge. Some people claim that Pricilla’s are snobbish. Manners, breeding and good taste are of enormous importance to them. Pricilla’s are born with an excellent nose for style in everything.
Quirks
She IS Pisces
Now who can I pester…. A toyboy or three that I have not tagged before:
George, he can’t say no to his ever loving MIL. Now can he?
Nick at nickhereandnow is someone from my neck of the woods.
Jerrychicken who went to the same school as Alan Bennett, and makes me splutter over my cornflakes every morning. In case you are wondering he does not like golf!!
One day a little girl was sitting and looking at her mother’s face as she was telling a story.
She noticed that her mother had several strands of white hair sticking out at the top of her head. Looking at her mother she inquisitively asked,
‘Why are some of your hairs white, Mammy?’
Her mother replied, ‘Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns White.’
The little girl thought about this for a while and then said,
‘Mammy, how come ALL of grandma’s hairs are White?’
*We must tell our own stories, and we must tell the stories of others. If you don’t tell your own story, who will? Of course you know I advocate writing your story, but if you can’t write it, or won’t, then for sure tell it. Tell it often, so people don’t forget. It could matter.* this is the final line of a blog post by Sharon Lippincott, aka Ritergal.
The time to start telling the story is NOW! By the time most of us think of looking back to discover our history, it is too late. The people who have the information are gone. Gravestones and Registers only give dry facts. People bring those facts to life
My oldest brother was at the graveside of a beloved paternal uncle, when he suddenly realised it was too late to ask questions, and he had not paid enough attention to all the stories my uncle had told over the years. All those stories and facts were gone never to be retold. My brother then set himself a task of tracing and noting his family history and by passing on this information to me it opened a whole new outlet and hobby.
Gingerpixel used a wonderful photograph of work worn hands to tell the story of her Grandfather, when she was Guest Phototrapher/Blogger for Mr Irish Blogosphere himself Damien Mulley.
If you are fortunate enough to have parents and grandparents alive, spend some time with them and ask them to write down their memories. If they are not keen you interview them and write it or make a Podcast of them telling the story. The first stage is the most difficult, but once they make a start the memories come back and the stories start to flow.
Your children and Grandchildren will be pleased. Remember their lives will be as different to yours as mine is in relation to my grandparents.
The past couple of weeks have proved rather busy for me. I am trying to finish all my sewing tasks for the wedding. I have Elly’s outfit ready for the final fitting and hopefully my calculations are not totally off the scale. I now need to make a cushion for the Ring bearer and a little bag for the Flower girl.
I have completed my own headgear and my bag for the day. My project for this afternoon is to make some decoration to hide my scrawny neck…. Alas sacks are forbidden….
These notes are by way of an apology for not posting or Podcasting more regularly. I have lurked and added the odd comment. I am depending on my store of amusing stories and graphics and hopefully they are keeping you interested until my time becomes my own again. Hang in there because like ‘Old Blue Eyes’ I will be making a come back!
So to keep you going:
Lucy spent the first day packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases.
On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things.
On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candle-light, put on some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar, and a bottle of spring-water.
When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp shells dipped in caviar into the hollow of the curtain rods.
She then cleaned up the kitchen and left. When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days.
Then slowly, the house began to smell. They tried everything; cleaning, mopping and airing the place out. Vents were checked for dead rodents and carpets were steam cleaned.
Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which they had to move out for a few days and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting. Nothing worked.
People stopped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid quit.
Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move.
A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer for their stinky house. Word got out and eventually even the local realtors refused to re turn their calls.
Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.
Lucy called her Ex and asked how things were going.
He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back.
Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day.
She agreed and within the hour his lawyers delivered the paperwork.
A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home………
And to spite the ex-wife, they even took the curtain rods!!!!!!
One morning the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap.
Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and reads her book. Along comes a Game Warden in his boat.
He pulls up alongside the woman and says, “Good morning, Ma’am.
What are you doing?”
“Reading a book,” she replies, (thinking, Isn’t that obvious?)
“You’re in a Restricted Fishing Area,” he informs her.
“I’m sorry, officer, but I’m not fishing. I’m reading.”
“Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. “I’ll have to take you in and write you up.”
“If you do that, I’ll have to charge you with sexual assault,” says the woman.
“But I haven’t even touched you,” says the game warden.
“That’s true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment.”
“Have a nice day ma’am,” and he left.
MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It’s likely she can also think.
