Photo by MabelAmber at Pixabay.com
The pink phone, do you see it?
It’s a myth.
Fake news.
You pick it up and say, Kat it’s me!
Hello? Kat?
It’s her!
Told ya.
Kat can you answer a question?
She said yes.
Well go one and ask her.
She sounds nice and friendly.
She is. Now go on ask her.
Kat how did you get inside this phone? (278 characters)
Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2018/07/17/twittering-tales-93-the-phone-17-july-2018/
Life’s swing is so easily taken for granted.
The back swing is when you are:
Expectant
In anticipation
Looking forwards
The down swing is when it’s all:
Happening
Excitement
In the moment.
I know where I’d rather be.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/07/17/photo-challenge-222/
This week’s words: Breakable Sawbones ((n.) a surgeon or physician) Marsh Cry Wither Mortar Crouch Latex Gloves Preta (n.)) a wandering or disturbed ghost) Cellar Mournful Cauterize
Mr Perkins was our town’s doctor though we referred to him more as a sawbones because of his penchant for amputating limbs for what often appeared any old whim. He could cauterise a wound, a red-hot ember doing the trick more often than not.
All his work was carried out in the cellar of his home with his wife, Mrs Perkins, upstairs running a very successful prosthetic business.
Mr Perkins had a very mournful face and would frown during a diagnosis further accentuating his mournfulness and suggest the chopping off of a limb as the only solution. The alternative he would say was the see the limb wither and die, and no one he claimed wanted to see that. Often with the help of Mrs Perkins, a patient would be measured up for a new limb and given an early bird discount if they signed up immediately.
Several patients came to him with what appeared to be marsh fever, and Mr Perkins with a cry of disgust would decry the patient’s loose morals and offer to remove the said infected bit, no matter where it manifested itself.
So with latex gloves and no idea if the patient might be allergic to latex, he would set to work claiming the human body was breakable and if he didn’t act quickly there was no telling which bit of the patient might be infected next.
Hence marsh fever patients could be identified as the ones missing various parts of themselves, such as a finger, a toe, an ear, part of their upper arm and in some cases bits of their reproductive organs which did lead to a lot of discussion as to the veracity of his methods.
In his cellar he kept a crucifix, to keep the ghost at bay he’d say. Preta was his great fear. The ghost of his first ever fatal patient, Preta Jones, a mother and woman with several children and one on the way who with her dying gasp cursed Mr Perkins with being haunted until his dying day. Mr Perkins on days when he felt most vulnerable could be found crouching against the old mortar of the cellar asking if the coast was clear of Preta whom he suspected was lurking in the shadows waiting to cry foul of him.
As it was his favourite saw was often to be found in strange places in his cellar, bones would be scattered about the floor, and his beloved latex gloves spread out and sometimes pointing at him in a gesture of accusation.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/07/16/wordle-204/
Today’s things are: tower, tidal wave, shark
Miss Teresa took us an excursion to the beach. For many of us, it was our first time.
First, she took us up in the tower on top of the beach. From here we could see for miles, and it gave us a great view of the ocean.
We were mesmerised by the sight of a shark swimming near to some surfers, and then we laughed as they made a hurried exit from the water, though we knew it wouldn’t be so funny if it was us.
We felt a slight tremor, and the tower moved under our feet.
This added to our excitement but nothing prepared us for the sight of the huge wave, a tidal wave, a tsunami, heading for the beach. We stayed still watching as it broke over the beach and surged into the streets. Soon we were cut off and while we waited for the water to recede Miss Teresa suggested we take out our vegemite sandwiches and have our lunch.
Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/07/16/three-things-challenge-16-july-2018/
Today’s things are: great aunt, ant, plant
My Great aunt Kath had a real green thumb, literally. It was from the many hours she spent in the garden. She had a way with plants and a great dislike of ants.
So, when my teacher Miss Teresa invited us to bring an aged relative to class, I jumped at the chance to ask Great Aunt Kath if she would come in for me.
Great Aunt Kath had a frown that signalled she was not happy when she was unhappy. Going out was not something she entertained very much as she aged and grew less mobile. As it was, she was attacking a new ants’ nest in her rose garden, and that was far more important than the whims of a small boy.
But mum talked her into it, and on the appointed day we rolled Great Aunt Kath into my classroom. We seated her in a wheelchair for ease of mobility, and once she was in front of the class, she went into instruction mode. We were fascinated by her knowledge but more so by her green thumb which she showed us and allowed us to inspect. It was green she said not from tending her plants but from being bitten so many times by the green ants in her garden. Hence her dislike of the blighters, as she referred to them.
Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/07/15/three-things-challenge-15-july-2018/
In my experience in education most reform comes under the guise of educational outcomes, but in reality, from a political point of view, it’s more to do with economics than education.
Its old adage of getting people to do more for less.
True reform is more likely to occur within classrooms with teachers taking it upon themselves to be innovative and reforming in the methods they use.
I worked in the Creative Arts, in particular, Drama. I taught it for over twenty years, and I found it the most innovative of all subjects.
At the same time, there were plenty of teaching colleagues who didn’t consider it a ‘real’ subject, partly because students seemed to be having so much fun it couldn’t possibly be a subject in the same way Maths and Science were perceived.
But like any subject within the curriculum, there are disciplines that have to be adhered to in order to achieve success. It was one of the reasons why Drama in the school I worked in was so popular and students successful. Drama study required a different discipline set to maths or science or any other subject.
To be creative in any of the creative arts subjects you had to apply yourself, practice constantly and be prepared to be self-critical. The creative arts is an area where you are constantly trying to improve on what you already have.
The parameters within which you work are flexible. If you consider a well-known play, say any Shakespeare, you might attend several productions and see a different performance each time.
In my school, we encouraged our students to be innovative in their interpretation of any performance they undertook. It was important to adhere to the spirit of the play/performance, but how you did, it was always within their grasp.
Drama provided my students with the opportunity to explore their own creative talents. We reformed the way we taught it, and it was sometimes pleasing to see other school adopting methods we had pioneered. Often they did it far better than we did.
In the end, our encouragement of our students led to students finding satisfaction in what they did, plus great end of school results when they performed their performances/exams to the public.
Reform requires the reformer to see the benefits to the student, not to the overall economic benefit of the state.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/07/15/sunday-writing-prompt-reform/
Climate change was happening despite all the naysayers and sceptics. The evidence was obvious down on the beachfront. Where once even at high tide there was a thin rim of sand along the waterfront to walk upon now the ocean lashed the shoreline and threatened to cascade over the man-made barrier.
Our political leader, who saw himself as a bit of a King Canute had made promises, based he proclaimed on irrefutable science, that the sea was not going to encroach on the city. He announced the unusually high tides as a freak of nature and within a few weeks the sea would retreat to its customary levels and life would return to normal.
His idiot predictions were just that, the ravings of a mentally deranged man pretending to hold power over nature.
The city went about fortifying the beachfront, huge concrete boulders were put in place to hold back the surging waves, and within three weeks the waves were splashing over the boulders and washing the adjoining streets with saltwater.
This caused a panic, and an urban panic is and can be troubling. With the sea intruding, as it appeared to be doing retreat was the only option. But retreat to where?
Rising tides pushed the rivers back further, the salt water in them unsuitable for farmers, floods occurred, and in a short time, whole parcels of land became uninhabitable.
Still the lunatic in charge stuck to his argument that climate change was not the cause.
Within two weeks his protestations were silenced when he awoke one morning to find his house flooded.
Appeasement was no longer an option.
Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2018/07/12/reenas-exploration-challenge-week-45/
Today’s things are: Superman, Batman, The Shadow
One of the things, among many, that I loved about my teacher Miss Teresa was her ability to find ways to stimulate our minds.
After lunch on Fridays was a time she called “Let Your Mind Escape.”
It was when we could write on anything and be anyone we chose to be.
I was always Superman as I dreamed I flying high above Miss Teresa and dropping water bombs on her. My mate Johnny loved Batman because he dreamed of living in a huge cave and doing cool stuff with all the gadgets Batman had at his disposal.
Mandy Hiccups sat across from me and she was always troubled by Miss Teresa’s tasks, as she was a quiet and timid girl. She chose to be The Shadow because I think she liked being in the shadows, unnoticed and protected by darkness.
We boys wrote stories of valour and adventure but Mandy’s were always the saddest.
Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/07/14/three-things-challenge-14-july-2018/
Grandma made the best apple crumble. It was a part of my childhood and I remember so clearly the pie plate and the crumble cooling on the windowsill before we sat down to Sunday lunch. Grandma knew how to cook cool stuff you looked forward to eating. The apple was always so succulent, the pastry crisp and the crumble divine. It melted in your mouth and there was always a race to see who could score seconds.
Though she’d tell us she’d keep some for a rainy day.
Written for: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/07/14/weekend-writing-prompt-63-crumble/
July 12, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a broken fence. You can mend it, leave it, or explain its place in a story. Go where the prompt leads.
Cracked, dry, weathered, unloved and neglected yet it refuses to give in. It stands or leans as any old timer might. Gravity has had a say as it ages. The posts once strong and proud in holding the rails firmly in place, the palings once painted a vibrant green are now grey with age, and if you look carefully, you might find evidence of its once youthful beauty.
Today it represents a time when fences constructed sturdily made good neighbours when you trusted them to lean on and chat across them, but today stand as a divide between properties.
Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2018/07/12/july-12-flash-fiction-challenge/
Morpethroad 