FFfAW Challenge-Week of October 24, 2017 – Cracks and Joins

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Image: Thanks Dorothy

The monk despite his austere life and dedication to meditation and devotion still possessed a very human trait. He hated stepping on cracks or joins of any kind.

So he found himself in a spot of bother as he went to cross the street for the council had recently upgraded the town’s crossings and he was aware until he arrived at the crossing that there were new joins to contend with.

So with baby step precision he negotiated his way across the street. Such was his concentration as to where he was putting his feet that he failed to see the No 9 bus approaching.

In the next life he found himself in a world full of cracks and joins. In his pocket he found a small slip of paper with the words, “Welcome to the next life. It can be a bugger sometimes.”

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/10/23/fffaw-challenge-week-of-october-24-2017/

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Wordle # 175 – The Puzzles

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This week’s challenges: constellations (irregular borders) woodcuts [Woodcut is a relief printing technique in printmaking. An artist carves an image into the surface of a block of wood—typically with gouges—leaving the printing parts level with the surface while removing the non-printing parts.] Martinis Spies rule of thumb [a broadly accurate guide or principle, based on experience or practice rather than theory.] calculus [ the branch of mathematics that deals with the finding and properties of derivatives and integrals of functions, by methods originally based on the summation of infinitesimal differences. The two main types are differential calculus and integral calculus|| a particular method or system of calculation or reasoning||a concretion of minerals formed within the body, especially in the kidney or gallbladder.] Glowing Puzzle weather vane savory [(of food) belonging to the category that is salty or spicy rather than sweet || having an appetizing taste or smell ||morally wholesome or acceptable.] Legendary

 

Lenny Puzzle was the twelfth child to Ima and George Puzzle. Ima was legendary within the community for producing so many children to a man known affectionately as Jigsaw.

They lived on Constellation Street, which was a fortuitous place, as there seemed to any one passing by an ever-increasing number of Puzzles to deal with.

Lenny by some quirk of fate had been blessed with brains and loved spending his mornings pouring over an old calculus text his dad had long used as a doorstop.

Jigsaw loved a martini or ten and sipped on them as he worked on his woodcuts, a skill he possessed and one which earned his family a few dollars at the Sunday markets where the Puzzles would descend in their haphazard way, set up their table and hassle every passer-by trying to sell their wares.

But Lenny was not interested in any of that. After studying the calculus text by day he loved to look through an old telescope his dad had found in the dump. He could see the constellations with their irregular borders, the rings of Saturn and the moon closer than he imagined.

Lenny having the brains in the family was also blessed with an imagination and often in-between the chapters of his calculus text imagined himself as a spy solving great problems with his famous catch cry, “Call a Puzzle to fix your puzzle. The smaller the pieces the better the fun.”

Another of Lenny’s favourite things was all things nature. His dad had come home one day with an old weather vane, a bit bent but once placed upon their roof provided Lenny with another source of fun and adventure.

The rule of thumb in the Puzzle household was if it required thought to fix an issue, Lenny was your first port of call as opposed to their dad who had a bad habit of destroying the problem thereby eliminating it, like the wonky leg on the dining room table he destroyed with the number 6 sledgehammer and stood back glowing with pride over his accomplishment until Ima reminded him he’d be eating off the floor until they could secure the services of a new leg or table.

With so many kids and all of them constantly hungry Ima had learned that anything savory was a hit with the family. So she fed them savory meats, savory fruits and savory porridge and in each circumstance increased her own legendary status.

Lenny being a typical Aussie kid loved vegemite on toast and was settling in to a night of star gazing when his dad, martini in one hand and woodcut in the other, tripped over the weather vane Lenny was repairing and landed head over heels in their fish pond, the one with the irregular borders and savory tasting water lilies.

As they later said: “Therein lay the biggest Puzzle.”

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/10/23/wordle-175/

 

 

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Mundane Monday Challenge #132 : Learn Photography

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New and shiny

My kids bought me a new kettle and toaster for my renovated kitchen.

 

https://trablogger.com/mundane-monday-challenge-132-learn-photography/

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Weekend Writing Prompt #25 – Fragment

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Image: ©Dave Huggard Fragmented life drawings

When she was, alive life was a constant battle to stay in touch with whatever had to be done.

She felt owned by and owing to so many.

There was never any time for herself. She felt obliged to respond to everyone’s needs. She’d given up thinking about her own needs. They were inconsequential, just like she was.

She welcomed death.

It was an escape, and she doubted she would be missed by anyone apart from the inconvenience of them having to get their own coffee and make their own bed.

Death gave her time, and she smiled at the thought that time was now irrelevant. She had occasion to reflect on her fragmented life.

That was a good word she decided, fragmented.

For that’s how it had been. A bit of her for her parents, her siblings demanded of her, later her husband, the low life scumbag he turned out to be, governed her every moment and so she ceased to exist.

Even when by some miracle, she conceived and had children to a man who made it clear he didn’t want children she felt a little bit of her go to each of the two kids who took up so much of her time.

Life was a single mother existence when her husband up and left, said he’d found a better woman, a woman who thought he was someone and loved him unlike her whom he called cold and distant.

When he left, there was a sense of relief, but at the same time, she felt a little piece she called failure, break away, never to be replaced.

Over the years that was how it had been with bits of her breaking away, floating off into a space, she could never reach.

Now she had reflection time, and she used it well. Free of the world of obligation she realised settling over her was a rare calm.

Maybe the fragments she lost while alive could be replaced with fragments worth hanging on to.

 

Written for: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2017/10/21/weekend-writing-prompt-25-fragment/

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Sunday Writing Prompt #225 – Know Thyself

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You look at me like you know I should say something, but I know you know and so what is there to say?

Caught with my hand in the lolly jar, wasn’t I?

Down by the river, there’s a place just under the weeping willows where I go. I like to go there because it’s my place.

I can be alone with myself, and that’s not a bad thing you know.

Being alone I mean.

Alone you can conquer the world, be its greatest lover, climb mountains and be someone.

Sometimes it would be nice to be someone.

Not a fool.

You see me as a fool don’t you.

Always stuffing up, calling you to get me out of one situation or another.

You must be sick of me by now.

But I know you’ll say I’m family and it’s what we do for family.

How come no one ever calls me then?

We both know why.

I’m the pathetic brother, aren’t I?

Drunk, homeless. A wastrel I once heard you call me.

And I am. It’s easier that way.

No responsibility.

No care.

No hope.

I think every time you are going to come around, drag me out of the shit hole I am in and say: “This is the last time. Piss off and fend for yourself.”

I have tried. Pissing off I mean.

But I keep coming back.

Why is that?

I hate being who I am.

Most days I want the world to swallow me up.

But I keep coming back.

The family pantry is never unstocked.

I keep coming back.

I can’t say more than I have.

I keep coming back.

Like a fool, I only know one story.

If I repeat it often enough, will I begin to believe it?

I’m kidding myself I know.

I’m who I am, I know that, and you know that.

Pathetic isn’t it.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/10/22/sunday-writing-prompt-225-know-thyself/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #Week 9 – Trust

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I find the whole trust issue a difficult one to deal with. I say this as I have trust issues myself.

You could say that as a damaged person you are within your rights to feel trust is something you hunger for, but you are always wary of anyone who purports to be suggesting that is how they feel about you as your past tells you things can change in an instant.

I think trust comes simply by being yourself. The people around you will see you for who you say you are. It’s the consistency of character that makes or breaks you.

Having been married to a narcissist, and completely oblivious to the fact of that is what she was, I am a slow learner, I devoted far too much of my life to running around pleasing her and eventually learning she was not a person I could trust and that damaged me greatly. Your partner should be your trusted companion, not a person who betrays that perception of trust my throwing in your face things you have said in confidence to her. I learned not to say anything nor show my feelings to her.

Since then those days I have worked on me being me. I have a wonderful friend these days who has a simple mantra I have taken on as my own. “Take it or d.”

Take me as I am or decline. The choice is yours, I am me and happy being me.

To gain trust in the opposite gender, I don’t think it’s all about what you say but more how you behave towards them. When they speak with you, it’s best to listen. They often just want to talk to you not feel you are judging them by expressing an opinion, which often the last thing they want to hear.

Listening is not easy. We all have opinions about what we hear, but sometimes it’s important to allow whomever it is speaking to you to have their moment centre stage. Knowing we are being listened to and our opinion valued does so much to build trust in the person we want to be closest to.

As for the future, I don’t know. Society is evolving at such a rapid rate and technology is allowing relationships to develop without actually being in the same room, space or country as the person you are engaging with.

I think the same principle will always exist if you be yourself and consistently do so by openly offering support, and encouragement trust will develop and become an integral part of any relationship.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2017/10/20/reenas-exploration-challenge-week-9/

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Thursday photo prompt – Spur – #writephoto

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When cowboys meet they like to discuss the size of their spurs, the sharpness, the hours they spend honing down on the one bit of their gear they are most proud of.

At the recent rodeo there was an award given for the cowboy whose spurs jangled the best and loudest. As a result we had singing boots around us all weekend.

What spurred all this on was a conversation between Jed the wrangler and Cletus the stable hand. One reckoned you couldn’t make spurs do much more than be spurs. The other claimed they could a whole lot, like spin and jangle and if you had a good gait about you then your spurs added to the overall effect of you being the perfect cowboy.

So after much debate Cletus said he would produce a flyer about the contest to be held the evening of the first day of the rodeo. A prize of $100 was put up by both men.

So they found a hard floor to maximise the spur jangling and away the contest went. Twenty cowboys and cowgirls entered and a crowd gathered to watch the fun.

Cletus and Jed decided to be judges and watched and listened to each contestant.

In the end a cowgirl called Annie Getcha was proclaimed the winner as her cute figure and very cowgirl gait was enough to swing the competition in her favour much to the chagrin of the male contestants.

But overall it was a great fun exercise and every contestant vowed to be back in the running the next year.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2017/10/19/thursday-photo-prompt-spur-writephoto/

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