IndigoFrame

3 Words Wednesday!

2010-06-01T23:58:00.001+03:00

3 Word Wednesday -
abandon, gradual, precise - the words are in there somewhere :)

I find myself in a daily cycle of shit. It doesn't necessarily have a particular pattern to identify itself to me as shit, I just know that it is...shit.

Was it a gradual decline into shit and therefore nothingness? No. I don't do things slowly, (I want to write LOL then realise that, bloody hell woman, I used to write with an ink pen and LOL was NOT in the vocabulary back then) in fact I never did anything in a rush. I did ( and still do ) tend to slowly glide like a duckling on ice towards my end game.

I had such grandiose plans, such designs for living ergo LIFE. I still do actually. I see myself on that stage collecting my award, smiling like a muppet on prozac and thanking my English teacher for inspiring me. At what stage did I abandon such grandiose plans? I didn't really. I still see myself smiling oh so smugly at the cheerleader, the sportsman, the popular ones and thanking all those who contributed to my 'greatness'.

The precise moment of my awakening was the sudden realisation that I may never write an award winning film, a gut wrenching poem, paint soul defining moments. But I will always be a mother. My greatest achievement. There was a smile, a 'munt' we called it, the daughter and I. We both do it, no one else has that ability but she 'munted' at me and I 'munted' back. I know, that 150 years from now, there will be a little girl with sticky out ears 'munting' at her mother. I did that! That is my mark on life, the world, the universe. The 'Munt' is a sticky out chin and a cross eyed look that only a mother could love.

One Word - Regardless

2010-05-04T15:22:00.001+03:00

Today's word is 'Regardless'........

regardless of the fears, the tears, the downright terror I feel right now, I have no choice. If he has to go, he has to go. If I hold him back, he will look like he’s tied to his wife’s apron strings. If I say go and something happens, I will forever feel guilt and sorrow.

Yes, I am alive by the way. I've been lazy...I know, I'll get down to the writing again I promise. :)

One Word - 'blade'

2010-02-15T11:26:00.001+03:00

Today's word..... 'blade'

my offering - and do I feel out of practise lol

'blades of green grass swaying gently in the soft breeze that blows across the hillside and hands that grasp at the blades tugging at them in passion and abandon'

One Word - 'delicate'

2010-02-14T06:56:00.002+03:00

My stab at oneword.com 's word for the day and it's been an absolute age since I did this.....

The word for today is 'delicate' and you have one minute to write anything you want! It is certainly the way to get your brain working first thing!

"delicate wings of silvery sheen, eyes such a bright vivid green, mischievous smiles and feminine wiles"

One Word - Optional

2009-08-19T00:03:00.001+03:00

ok it's optional. what is? well.... um.... your taking part........ in? well... it's all optional honey.. it is? yes. why? 'cos I said so goddamnit'

One Word - Heartbeat

2009-07-13T08:47:00.000+03:00

I can hear it, so fast and loud, noisy and rapid, like a rabbit's would be when caught in headlights. It's my baby, inside me, the heartbeat of a future 'us' our baby. Our little me, our little you.

A Last Goodbye.

2009-07-12T10:43:00.000+03:00

I'm so cold. The sun is hiding behind the clouds and there's a threat of rain. There are so many people around me. A huge crowd of family and friends, holding hands and comforting. Yet I feel alone. What is it they say? 'I can be in a roomful of people and still feel alone'. A sob catches in my throat.

The service was nice. I never was a big 'God' fan, nor of prayers. I did like the music choice tho. Jerusalem was always a favourite of mine and many others. It's uplifting. I know it's 'sposed to be patriotic as well but I just love it 'cos it's rousing and loud. No matter what sort of crappy voice you have, you can sing as loud as you like with that one.

There is a scattering of dirt on the coffin as this part comes to an end. I actually find this more upsetting than the service. It's like a final step. Now it will be a run up to the pub to raise a glass in honour of the dear departed one. Then more drinks will flow, some funny stories will surface and then the crass bastards in the corner will start taking bets on who's next.

The sun has come out, just as everyone leaves.

'Are you coming?' a voice rings out in my direction.

'Yes, I suppose I am.'

A final look back at family and friends before I head towards the light.

I feel warmer now.

A door...

2009-06-30T11:21:00.010+03:00

'So how did you do this then?'

'I left the kitchen cupboard open, getting out the pasta and turned round too fast'

There was a pause as the doctor studied the face before him.

'It's very large for that type of injury'

'It was a large cupboard.'

The doctor smiles.

'This cut above the eye is going to need a couple of stitches but it shouldn't leave a scar'

'Well, wouldn't want it to spoil my modeling career'

The doctor smiles again.

The stitches are done, painkillers dispensed, another smile.

As the patient gets down from the bed and turns to pick up a bag from the chair, a wince and a groan.

The doctor hands a leaflet over.

'You may find this helpful'

It's a leaflet about domestic abuse.

There is an uncomfortable silence.

'I don't need this'

'Well, that is okay if I am wrong, I would rather be wrong'

Silence hangs heavy again.

'Not all victims of domestic violence are women, Mr Davies'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Domestic violence is a fact of life. Violence against any other human being is unacceptable. There is a common misconception that domestic violence is always against women. But there is a small percentage of men affected. Either by female partners or by gay partners. There is evidence that 5% of all victims are male. But with men loathe to report cases or even talk about their abuse, the figure is probably higher.

5% is 5% too much.

The following are some links for victims of abuse. If you are using google chrome and want to be sure that your internet history is not at risk of being seen, click the spanner/tools button in the top right hand corner of your browser and choose 'open incognito window'

Male or Female. You have a god given right to be treated with respect and face each day without the risk of a slap or a punch or a kick.

http://violenceunsilenced.com/

http://www.safe4all.org/

http://www.batteredmen.com/

http://dahmw.org/

http://www.refuge.org.uk/

http://www.womensaid.org.uk/

1-0

2009-06-29T09:29:00.001+03:00

She takes off her shoes and holds them close to her chest. The house is dark and silent. She holds her breath as tightly as she holds her shoes and starts the ascent to her room. In her mind she is counting the steps because the 5th step, the one after the bend, creaks. Loudly. She miscounts but realises her mistake as her foot hovers over the threadbare carpet. She is finding it hard to balance with her hands clasped to her chest and slowly, gently puts her foot down. It creaks but it is a creak that seems to her last for minutes rather than the split second.

By the time she has made her way to the landing, with her bedroom door in front of her, her heart is hammering like a rabbit's. She pushes open the door with her fingertips knowing that at least won't creak thanks to the hot oil hair treatment she used on the hinges last week.

“I should market that idea” she thinks and has to struggle not to laugh out loud.

Once inside the room, door closed behind her, she quietly sinks onto her bed and breathes a sigh of relief. And as she falls into a dreamless sleep she reaches up to mark a '1' in the dark with her finger.

“Me -1 – Mum -Nil”

Outside the door, the woman waits. When she is sure that she can hear her daughter's even breaths, she retreats to her own bed, avoiding the creaky board 3 steps from her room, so that she too can fall into a dreamless and now worry free sleep.

The Fool

2009-06-28T09:36:00.000+03:00

The Fool

With all his worldly possessions in one small pack, the Fool travels he knows not where. So filled with visions and daydreams is he, that he doesn't see the cliff he is likely to fall over. At his heel, a small dog harries him (or tries to warn him of a possible misstep).

There have been many times and occasions over recent years when I would have welcomed a small dog yapping at my feet. There were many periods in my life when we had one if not two around us. Welcoming us home from work, excited little yips and funny little gargles as they leapt up to catch our attention long enough for a stroke and a treat from the treat cupboard.

Over the years we went from Jack Russell to Miniature Schnauzer to Shih Tsu rescue cases and back to Jack Russells. There is nothing so trusting or as loving as a family dog. Dogs die and leave odd little shapes in our hearts. Sometimes these shapes are padded out as best as they can be and on rare occasions they can be filled and stretched to make a new shape.

I'm rambling. I know I'm bloody tired. How strange to be tired when one does so little. I find that sitting here all day gives me the numbest bum ever. The view from where I sit is grey and quite frankly grim. But it can be interesting watching those busy people going about their busy lives. I assume they are busy. They rush everywhere, too busy to speak to anyone, rushing along as though everyone else is invisible. To have somewhere to go and something to do, oh my god, I would just about keel over with the excitement. It would be the death of me most probably. Although, it's not like I'm an invalid I guess a short walk would do me good, later maybe.

I'm bloody freezing. The sun is shining and it's summertime but the chill goes right through me these days. And I have the sniffles. I should take something for that. Is it midday yet? We always had this rule, me and him, no drinking before midday. Now I think, well, it's midday somewhere isn't it?

I feel invisible. I feel like nothing. People rushing by not seeing me. Well maybe they can't see me. Maybe I have reached the point where I am only visible to the carer or to the do-gooder. There is a rattle of change in a cup. When I look up, there he is, in all his red haired glory, with twinkling blue eyes and a smile that always made me feel lucky that he looked my way.

But my eyes are old and it isn't him. It is another young man but one so much younger than me, one with pity in his eyes and not a cheeky glint of lust.

Our lives change so quickly. When I was young and in love, when I was young and with gorgeous children, when I was living a life that was full of happiness and laughter I never thought I would be able to put everything I owned into one small bag which I would guard with my life.

I still have my wedding ring, I still have a curled up picture of the four of us laughing and in love, with being the 'club' that very few could get into unless by personal invitation and agreement by the other members.

I no longer have my blue eyed boy. When I lost him I crumbled. I broke into a million pieces and no amount of glue liberally applied by my two golden haired adult children could mend the fractures.

One day, it seems so much easier to pick things up and leave, to leave things behind, to leave those you love behind and wander off. I had thoughts to travel the world, like a fool I believed that would happen and now instead the world travels me, rushing by, ignoring me, maybe seeing me but wishing I would go away.

I am sure they looked for me, I am sure they still wonder where I am, what I am doing. I am sure there are grandchildren to coo over, I am sure that the pain of not knowing where or how I am is more than the pain of trying to fix me over and over again. But I find it too hard to live without my blue eyed boy, who they look like, who they laugh like. Yet I am too much of a coward to join him just yet.

There's a good few pounds in that cup.

Is it midday yet?

OK, the title comes from a short story competition I am thinking of entering, I haven't revised it, it took me 38 minutes and all I had to do was make sure it was less than 4000 words, obviously I need to put more. I don't know if this is the one I will submit after revisions but I actually like this one for itself. For me lol :)

One Word - Movie

2009-06-21T09:41:00.001+03:00

A movie of my life? Well, now I would like Angelina to play me as some kind of kick ass expat, charging through life, kicking soccer moms out of my way. Driving through the streets of Qatar like she does in Wanted... Oh wait, I do that already :)

I've been a bit slack lately, it has been a rough week for me, still have the bad back, black dog chasing me around but hopefully this week I can get over this bump and sort myself out.

One Word - Guitar

2009-06-12T08:53:00.000+03:00

Oh god, guitars, we have more than 5 of them. I'm sorry I cant be more specific but seriously, we are in danger of becoming overrun with them. Is there some kind of pest control company out there that deals in Fenders and Yamahas? Please, send me the number soon before they start to procreate and I am forced to pick one up and learn the damn thing!

I live in a family of 4 but 3 of them play guitars. One has left home for Uni, leaving her guitars behind, and being sent a new one for her birthday...if she ever comes home, she will be bringing with her, a guitar AND a bloody violin that she has bought. Our musical instruments collection now totals more than 5 guitars, NO I can't get specific, a drum kit, a snake charmer's flute, a sitar, a saxaphone and soon to be added...a flute!

Thank god for ear plugs.

2009-06-10T07:21:00.000+03:00

One Word ~ Cards

2009-06-08T08:31:00.001+03:00

When my boy was 10, he went through this phase of doing card tricks. He knew tons of them. I hate them, they are another example of maths to me and I can't abide maths. I hate numbers, the bigger the number the bigger the cringe. But I loved joy on his face when he did a card trick. He still gets that grin but its about girls now....

Prince

2009-06-07T09:45:00.000+03:00

Prince Charles once gave my dad some organic carrots from his farm at Highgrove. My dad had spent the morning helping another farming castrate some rather large organic porkers on the farm. My dad said, royalist that he is and remained until his death, that Prince Charles was friendly and like any other bloke. Bless him

Bit weak this one.........

Drip

2009-06-06T11:49:00.000+03:00

drip drip drip little april showers - something something something. I love singing. I'm not good, my daughter is good. but Im not. Oh and I can't remember words. Start off well, and then sort of descend into some incoherent mumbling! It's shocking really, I can't even get the words right when they are in front of me!

Am I getting better at this or worse for god's sake lol

Today's word from oneword ~ Lock

2009-06-04T07:22:00.000+03:00

Isn't he that bald guy from 'Lost'? I don't get that show, I was 'Lost' after season 1. But when I watch, I watch it for Sawyer, the man is a piece of hotness that I can only dream of talking to let alone anything else. Having a hot flush here and must seriously cool down, off to stand in front of the open freezer door!!

LOL!! :)

Chess

2009-06-03T09:46:00.000+03:00

They move around each other, avoiding contact. No touching going on here apart from the odd knock as they make their way around the board. Queen takes Knight...and in their divorce she takes him for everything he has too....

My second effort - it's amazing how your brain seems to come to a stop before it bursts into life!

Infected

2009-06-02T07:35:00.000+03:00

I can't help it, they rise up in me like some kind of fizzy bubbles bursting to get out! They start as small and insignificant and finally they are out, huge giggles, giggles that wont stop that seem to make me look like a loon! It's starting hurt, physically hurt but a good hurt.

Well that was my first effort on oneword.com - thanks Karen - I feel a little retarded but it's such a good concept and she was right, it does get the brain going!