Wordle No 161

Here is the list of words this week:

1. Insulin
2. Posture
3. Shake
4. Suffer
5. Cloudburst
6. Immure (v.)) to enclose within walls. to shut in; seclude or confine. to imprison. to build into or entomb in a wall. obsolete. to surround with walls; fortify.)
7. Hereafter
8. Slovenly
9. Radiate
10. Gladiola
11. Restaurant
12. Galimatias (n)) Nonsense)

The scent of gladioli wafted in from the pub’s restaurant garden.
He was seated at a window table, his posture speaking volumes as to his mood.
For years, she’d suffered his slovenly behaviour and appearance, the after-effects of a night with the lads, the sense of hopelessness and threat to her identity.
The final straw had come when he’d hidden her insulin in a ploy to immure her permanently in his life.
He was dangerous, and in a cloudburst of clarity, she’d packed her bags and left.

She sat down opposite, shaking off any sense of pity or compassion.
He was a mess. Unwashed, dishevelled, his normal hungover self.
He looked across at her, smiling what he thought was his charming sheepish smile.
She knew better, and more importantly, what was coming next.
For the next ten minutes, she listened as he radiated galimatias, empty promises of how he would change, how he wanted her back.
She’d lost count of the times she’d been there before.
Then came the kicker.
‘I’m behind with the rent by few months. Can you help me out?’
She paid for his coffee, stood and walked away.
She’d settle any debt in the hereafter on her terms, not because he’d put her there.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle challenge 26th June


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Writing prompt 25th June, Mothers

You can check out Oloriel’s challenge here.

I’ve always tried to be a good daughter, though in the majority of cases distance has played an important factor and I haven’t been able to visit as much as I’d like, or as some would consider, I should.
I’ve written about being the Other Daughter , poetry for Mother’s Day, and a variety of posts about our visits Down South, not all of them good. There are linkages here.
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Sunday Photo Fiction – June 25th 2017

Thought provoking image this week. Love it! Image © Eric Wicklund

You can check out the challenge, 200 words or less, here.

I was sleeping and when I awoke, the darkness didn’t lift.
I’ve been lying here for some considerable time, broken and damaged.
Unable to see the sun rise or set, blind to shadows passing the hours as the sun made its journey across the sky, I had no sense of time.
It was strange, feeling warmth on my body, hearing sounds around me, not knowing their ages, species or sex.

Recently I heard footsteps, and a Voice.
It sounded young, childlike, excited.
The object of the excitement was apparently me as I was gently touched.

I looked forward to hearing this Voice. It would come and go, perhaps day to day.
I felt things being moved, replaced, rearranged, all totally painless.
I had no need for food, but when I felt the coolness of water upon me, I relished the reviving power it provided.
I felt something placed in my empty socket.
‘There,’ said the Voice. ‘It may not be exactly right, but I’ve made your eye complete.’
I focused, and standing before me was a creature I would normally have devoured.
I could not do it and chose to remain her deadwood sculpture.

(194 words)

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The End of life as we knew it:

Today saw the door close on our boating life.
Hopefully we will still keep in touch with our boating friends, but are officially no longer boat owners having signed her over to new owners this afternoon.
Signing the paperwork took a few minutes. Saying our final goodbyes and going through the boat from bow to stern with them took three hours.
Every boat is different, and although they already own a smaller Sea Otter, there were some new ‘quirks’ to introduce them to.

In our opinion, bias or not, they are getting a good boat, a bargain, and I hope they have many hours and boating miles of pleasure aboard her.
For us, we feel hollow and sad, but have some fabulous memories and photos.


But as they say, as one door closes, another opens.
Once the money clears, we will know exactly have much we have at our disposal and be able to move forward.

Posted in current events, diary, home, life afloat, My life, narrow boat, Opinions | Tagged | 12 Comments

Writing Prompt #213 “It’s All in the Title”

This image is absolutely terrific to work with………. look closely and you will see what inspired my response.

The Girl Who Became a Bear.

They were her friends,
Her Companions and guide
Through the lonely years
She had no need to hide.
They were her guardians,
Protecting her from the dark,
Welcomed her into their world
With the song of a lark.
The beauty within
Was not for all to see,
Touching souls with her thoughts,
Setting them free.
She was One, she was All,
Birds flocked to her side,
Animals too,
She embraced them inside.
Nothing was wasted,
In Death, one was re-born
In a different guise,
Shape or form.
From a hawk high above,
To a snail, fish or hare,
She is all of these things,
Today, she is Bear.
Always on watch,
One of her charges awake
While the rest of her slept
On the banks of this lake
Where water would wash
Away all Darkness sins,
Leaving peace, love and joy,
She absorbed them within.
She is the wind,
The rain and the sky,
She is Life and the Afterlife,
No need to question why.

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Saturday’s Mix–24 June 2017

I remember my teachers trying to explain onomatopoeia to the class.
This would have made things much more interesting!

Photo credit: Eden Hills.
I’ll rest here awhile,
Allow the breeze to whisper
Through my new feathers.

Admiring the view,
The caress of the south winds
Calls me to take flight.

I’ll rest here awhile,
They can hear my yearning song
Guiding them to me.

I cannot be lost,
Knowing that they’ll come, I wait
To be shown the way.

The wind ruffles me,
My feathers fan and flutter,
I’ll rest here awhile.

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The Two Sides of Jenny Penny.

I’d known Jenny since High School.
Always popular, she exuded personality, was everyone’s friend and would do anything for anybody.
She was also a practical joker, and took it in good spirits when she was on the receiving end.
Life was fun, made for living, and she made the most of it.

I didn’t know Penny.
Quiet, afraid of her own shadow, she wouldn’t say a word unless spoken to.
It was hard to associate Penny with the Jenny from my teens, yet they were one and the same person.
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