Crimson’s Creative Challenge #171 – Lunch

Will I or won’t I was the question?

The catch looked so scrumptiously delicious.

To gobble it up or savour it a tad longer?

It had after all been a while between feeds.

It wasn’t every day you came across something so tempting and the desire to devour it so overwhelming you knew you’d be feeling let down if all you did was swallow it in one go.

The thought that the worm was here in this world as food gave me solace, as we were all had a purpose and the worm was food for any number of creatures, I just happened to be the lucky one.

It didn’t appear to object to its intended fate, just accepted that this was how it was. It lay there motionless; baking in the sun, crunching up the way I liked them.

I found myself saying grace, giving thanks, I flicked it into my mouth and it was gone.

Just like that.

Now is there another?

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Aging, Wisdom, and Experience.

I was curious about the aging process and how others are approaching it.

We are confronted by it each day. Each passing day adds something that either shows your age or reminds us that we aren’t as young as we used to be.

Most of us ‘boomers’ have taken a different approach to growing old. We haven’t become mirrors of our parents although I am sure we do have traits taken from them.

I saw recently a program about “Growing Old”. One group gave me much to smile about when I was told their motto was to “Grow Old Disgracefully”.

That sounds like a good idea.

There are those among us who are fortunate to maintain good health, lots of energy and a clear mind.

To them, I feel envious, as I can no longer do what I could do ten years ago. I see them out of a morning pacing the streets, one man I know, now in his 80’s is looking as good as ever. It must be something to be blessed with continuing good health.

To me it’s frustration as wanting to do active physical things is no longer an option. There’s restriction too when your friends invite you out and if there is a walk involved you go a certain distance and then have to sit and wait for them to return or in some cases cause them to miss out because they don’t want to go alone.

I think it’s important to accept what is happening to us. Be it arthritis, chronic disease or something that puts a stopper on so much you want to do.

Thankfully my mind is still operating, in a fashion, though I often get muddled up with the daily wordle. In short I try to make life enjoyable, maintain my sense of humour and look forward to our family dinners.

During our lives, we have accumulated a lot of experience. What good is it to you now?

So my question is, should you feel moved to respond, what are your experiences with aging?

Be they good or bad, let me know below.

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #170 – The Branks

It was the only way to shut her up.

It looked cruel but sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.

She got the message. She stopped her aimless banter, taught her brain to think before she gushed forth with words, which seemed to come in any assorted order.

We appreciated it, but I doubt she did. We’d removed her favourite pastime. She appeared listless. We watched her on Saturday mornings wandering the High Street wanting to chat to everyone but now offering little more than a polite nod as she passed by.

There was no getting away from the humiliation. The branks was designed to humiliate and it did. It taught her a lesson.

We took it off after a week and she was so crushed she swore at everyone there and retreated to her hut and wasn’t seen for several weeks.

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Sunday Poser #67 – Valentine’s Day

Usually disappointment along with the mirth of knowing I wasn’t the only one who received nothing.

I seem to know a lot of people who like me receive nothing each year.

I think it’s the not being loveable enough thing that has descended upon me as I age. People seem to want to keep me at a distance, that doesn’t mean they cross the street if they see me, they might, I’ve only witnessed it once from memory and that worked out for the best as the woman in question fled and was never seen again.

Once when I was married I received a bunch of flowers in the middle of a class I was teaching, which gave the students a lot to talk about. So not every Valentine’s Day has been lost.

It’s one of those very commercial days, yesterday, Sunday, the shops were full of red roses of various shapes and sizes.

I have a friend who is doing it tough at present so tomorrow to help her shall take her a bunch of flowers from our gardens here. A sort of Valentine’s gift, I sign of love and care.

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #168 – The Attack.

When it happened it happened so swiftly there wasn’t much time to think about it.

It was our first decent Sunday afternoon, no rain, the sun shining, disturbed only by the rumble of the approaching warplane.

It cruised above us before circling and then all hell broke loose.

Sitting in the middle of the paddock behind our house there was no protection. The world around us exploded in fire. I grabbed my brother and flung him down a tiny dip in the field and threw myself over him.

The noise was beyond deafening; dirt, rocks and dust rained down on us, I could do no more than hold my breath and hope it would go away.

Eventually, the noise stopped. The air was thick, my ears were ringing, there could have been sound but I never heard it.

My brother crawled out from under me and said in my ear: “That was close.”

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#writephoto – Approach – When My Car Broke Down

I had that sunken feeling when the car broke down. Of all places it was not that far from my destination, my Aunt Mary.

Aunt Mary was what we in the family referred to as eccentric. She had strange ideas about a lot of things but mostly it was her insistence that she only grew carrots in her front garden. Inside the boundary fence and either side of the front path, there grew carrots as far as you could see.

It encouraged the rabbits she once told me and they were a source of food to her. Every meal she made you had rabbit of some sort mixed into it.

Right now the problem was to get help with the car and as night was approaching there was limited daylight to work in.

There was a mist rolling in and through it, I could see Smith’s Castle looming above me. Smith’s Castle was impressive. Large and foreboding.

It had been called Smith’s Castle since 1456 when the village smithy’s invaded the castle and carried off the aristocratic Fortesque-Smyths and claimed the castle for themselves.

I found the front door and with a sense of trepidation rang the doorbell feeling a bit like Brad and Janet in Rocky Horror.

The door creaked open and a small balding man in a dinner suit stood there. “You rang?”

I explained my predicament and he watched me with eyes that suggested not a lot of what I was saying was getting through to him.

“I’ll get the mistress, wait here’” he said.

I could hear the creaking of opening and closing doors, whispered voices and the patter of tiny feet.

I suddenly had the feeling I was in the wrong place. Small faces appeared around the door, there was a fanfare and the door swung open to reveal the most beautiful woman.

“I love an entrance,” she said looking me up and down. Behind her, the small faces peered at me from behind her skirts.

“May I use your phone? I’ve broken down,” I asked.

“Of course, and then we’d love to have you for dinner,” she announced before spinning round and swanning off.

I then understood the line: “You can check out any time you like but you can never…….”

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge – #166 – The Top of The Hill

We had to get to the top.

She instilled a sense of urgency about getting there.

There was a lot of huffing and puffing, the climb was exacting for two people at our advanced age but she was driven to get there.

She was like that when she became determined. There was no stopping her and logic was never a factor.

So on we went, struggling to put one foot in front of the other, heads down realising this was a much bigger effort than we imagined.

“What’s there?” I gasped.

“The other side,” she replied never missing a beat.

And suddenly there it was. The other side.

“Don’t you feel a sense of achievement?” she asked.

By this time I was sitting down, ever so grateful for the seat some kind soul had put there. There were no words between my gasps of exhaustion.

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#writephoto – Antique – Sally’s Antique Wares and Stuff

Antique – Image by KL Caley

Sally’s Antique Wares and Stuff was located in the middle of the High Street, just down from the Post Office.

You couldn’t help but walk past it as you made your way down to the PO or the supermarket.

Sally believed you had to have something to catch your customer’s eye.

In her case, it was a shop crammed with wares, which appeared to have little to no order. She had the philosophy that if you saw something you liked then crawling over a bunch of other stuff to retrieve the piece you had spied could result in another sale.

And it worked.

My mother, on her way to buy milk one day, had been on the lookout for a Royal Doulton dinner plate to replace one she had broken when she saw one in Sally’s shop. It was in a far corner and to get to it she had to squeeze past a number of shelves packed with crockery of all sorts of value and not.

Needless to say Mum arrived home with a bag of plates, cups and saucers all of which she announced were bargains and she couldn’t bear to leave them there. So her shelf of old and ancient bits and pieces was rearranged to fit in the newly purchased items.

Mum was very proud of her purchases and said there was a chair she fancied as well but we reminded her that there was limited space in our house as it was and any large item purchased in future might result in one of us kids having to move out to the shed.

Mum thought that was a great idea and we could see her mind ticking over as she contemplated the idea of one of us moving out. None of us kids was volunteering I must say and we were still short of milk.

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Reena’s Xploration Challenge

It’s new … does it mean it’s welcome?

My wife went into labour at what I thought was the most inopportune time. Barely a year before my son had been born. He was a difficult child, demanding, and a law unto himself.

I felt as though I had finally gotten a handle and how best to deal with him when I was faced with the prospect of having to go through it all again.

As we drove to the hospital my resentment grew. I felt trapped into an everlasting struggle with babies.

But when baby is due and making all the signs of coming out into the world there is not much you can do but be there and see what happens.

In the labour ward, there was a huge photo on the wall of a flowing stream, I think it was meant to provide mothers with a sense of the baby flowing down her tubes and out into her arms.

I took many a deep breath anticipating what was ahead of me.

Baby was born but there was a complication and my wife had a bleed. The nurse had already sat me down, out of the way, and gave baby to me to hold while she and the doctor did their thing.

I sat there and looked down at my new daughter. As I did so she opened her eyes and looked at me and I instantly fell in love with her.

Every thought of resentment went out the window. Here was this tiny bundle of life looking up at me, her dad, and I couldn’t have been more pleased.

She was new, and she was welcomed.

I tear up every time I recall that moment and she and I some forty years later have the best relationship.

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Chapter – January 6th

I read another chapter

It’s a grind I have to say

Disappointing when her other novels

Have been gripping page-turners.

But I’m determined,

I know it will improve

Words are so much like that

Luring you in

Taking you places so often foreign.

I’ll give it another go later

I owe it to myself and the storyteller.

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