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Rarity

20 Apr

HPIM1850Yes, Virginia, England does have sunsets!

I’m no gardener, but I doubt this tulip is rare (although the fact that it bloomed before my daffodils does make me wonder). No, what is rare about this photo is that the tulip was captured at sunset. Yes, sunset. In England. I’d begun to think there was no such thing. I don’t know the last time I saw a sunset here, thanks to the nearly unbroken string of cloudy, rainy, or snowy days we’ve had since this time last year. (Just a note: I haven’t seen many sunrises either, and it’s not because I was sleeping the days away.) In the rarest of occurrences, the sun was out all day today, sunup to sundown, with not a cloud to be seen. I figure the meteorological good fortune is a direct consequence of my mom’s arrival from the States; there’ll be only bright blue skies while she’s here, and it’ll be impossible for her to believe that the past twelve months have been nothing but the stereotypical dismal British weather portrayed in every movie ever set in England. I’d forgotten just how good the sun feels and how energizing it can be, even if the temperatures are only in the 50s. I could get used to this. I could practically feel my body synthesizing vitamin D while I was pulling weeds around the tulips this evening. So if the sun shines for the next two weeks, and it looks like my mom is indeed the good luck charm that has brought sunshine to England, then I’ll be begging her to stay until August when we are due to move back to America!

 
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Posted by on April 20, 2013 in Challenges, Observations, Photography, True Life

 

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Quatrain

19 Apr

wasp-nestPhoto Copyright Janet Webb

I stroke her fragile hand in the pale light of the moon, her skin now as dry and papery as a wasp’s nest.

“Remember that poem you wrote to your puppy? I thought it was for me; you stole my heart way back in third grade.”

Softly I recite the four lines memorized nearly 78 years ago.

All can see our friendship is strong;
No doubt, by my side you belong.
Brown-eyed scamp, your kiss I adore.
I’ll love you forever…or more.

This is the final verse of our love story; I draw my last breath and reach for forever.

I missed last week’s Friday Fictioneers since I was out of town, but I’m back on board this week, submitting my 100 words inspired by the photograph selected by the Fictioneers’ fearless leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and guided by the letter Q of April’s A to Z Challenge!

 
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Posted by on April 19, 2013 in Challenges, Fiction

 

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Plunge

18 Apr

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Question 128
You are at a lake with some friends; the sun is warm and the water is cold. Going into the water would temporarily chill you but you know that later the warm sun would be even more enjoyable and you would be glad you had gone in. Would you take the plunge?

Uh. No. Been there, done that, not doing it again.

I lived in New Hampshire during my high school days, and went with a friend to Lake Winnipesauke over Memorial Day weekend. Her family went there often in the summer months, so she had local friends who were able to meet us at the lake for the afternoon. The weather was decently warm for New Hampshire in May, but the water was cold. Way cold, in my opinion. Our original plan had been to go water-skiing, but the guys were not able to procure a boat as planned. So the three decided a swim in the lake would be the next best option. I am not a fan of cold water, so I mentioned that I would just sit on the dock and maybe dip a toe in while they had a splash. Well, that plan was quickly vetoed–if one was swimming, we all were swimming. I tried to persuade them to go ahead without me, but the three of them were insistent that I was getting wet. Jump in, just jump, they cajoled. I stood firm in my refusal, but the next thing I knew, one of the guys had hooked me under the arms, the second had my left leg, and quickly coerced my friend into grabbing the other. As they were preparing to start swinging me over the edge of the dock, I managed to scream and wiggle enough to convince them I’d rather go in under my own power than be tossed in, so they set me back on my feet and formed a line behind me to block any chance of retreat. I was even a good sport while they counted, and jumped on command at three. My lungs stopped working as soon as I hit the water.

The three of them jumped in right behind me, laughing and whooping, and by the time we had all surfaced and shaken the water out of our eyes, they did have the good grace to notice that my lips were sapphire blue and I seemed to be gasping unsuccessfully for air. Once again they lined up behind me, this time urging me to swim faster, get out, climb up the ladder. The lack of oxygen to my brain had not stopped me from realizing that the impact with the water had driven my swimsuit as far as it would go up the crack of my backside, and though I feared the very real possibility of an imminent blackout and subsequent drowning, I was NOT climbing up that ladder with a wedgie. While I was wrestling the spandex out of my posterior, they must have thought I was too weak to pull myself up the ladder because suddenly half a dozen hands were fighting for real estate on my butt to push me up onto the dock. I eventually flopped onto the sun-bathed wooden planks with at least half a cheek still exposed, and finally felt the band around my chest loosen enough to drag in a breath of warm May air. My friend wrapped me in a towel, and they all stood dripping and watching me warily as I pinked up again (not sure whether the return of oxygen or embarrassment contributed more). I think I must have scared them witless, for they were pretty subdued the rest of the afternoon, but I never again had to worry about taking a forced swim in a cold lake with that crew!

Nice that I was able to twist today’s random pick from The Book of Questions to fit letter P of the April A to Z Blogging Challenge!

 
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Posted by on April 18, 2013 in Challenges, Deep Thought Thursday, How It Was, Memoirs, True Life

 

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Overlooked

17 Apr

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I spy with my little eye…something chocolate! Can you see the foil-wrapped Easter candy tucked in the corner of the road sign? I spotted this little treasure while we were wandering around Delft in the Netherlands on Sunday morning. Made me wonder if the town had had an Easter egg hunt and this one got overlooked (it was more than six feet off the ground, so if it was a hunt geared towards young ‘uns, no wonder they missed it!), or if someone had just randomly stuffed a chocolate egg in the sign (maybe they stashed eggs all over town, like a squirrel hides acorns). I’m not normally one to pass by a piece of chocolate, but not knowing the provenance of the egg made me uneasy about testing its edibility, so I reluctantly walked away.

Seeing this forgotten egg reminded me of a family Easter many years ago. I must have been about eight, and my brother six, and we had dyed and decorated a dozen hard-boiled eggs with Mom’s help. On Easter Sunday, Dad took the eggs out and hid them all around the back yard, concealing them well in the shrubs, trees, and patio furniture. When he had finished, my brother and I were turned loose to hunt high and low, each wanting to best the other by finding the most eggs. I don’t remember now whose basket held more when we finally gave up the hunt, but I know for sure it wasn’t a tie. The twelfth egg remained hidden, despite hours of searching. We sent Dad back out to retrace his steps and find the rogue egg, but he, too, came up empty-handed. We would have accused Dad of eating it instead of hiding it, but he didn’t particularly care for hard-boiled eggs so we were pretty sure he was innocent. For days afterward, my brother and I went back out into the yard, poking in bushes, digging in mulch, climbing up trees, and turning over rocks, but each time returned to the house eggless. We thought for sure the sulfur smell of rotten egg would eventually lead us to the pastel-colored fugitive, but weeks passed without a malodorous whiff. Dad finally concluded that soon after the hunt a raccoon must have come through the yard and had it for a snack.

Wonder what kind of critter might tote off the chocolate egg hidden in the street sign?

 
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Posted by on April 17, 2013 in How It Was, Memoirs, Observations, True Life

 

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Notice

16 Apr

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Notice: I am giving you fair warning that I am about to temporarily abandon my carefully planned weekly blogging schedule. My mom is coming to England for a two-week visit, and my priority will be spending as much time as possible with her, not locking myself in my office to curse the cursor taunting me from a blank screen. Since I’ve yet to master the art of the quick post (those 33-word Trifextra pieces take me hours), I am scaling back the writing while Mom is here. I will continue to post daily, and am committed to completing the April A to Z Blogging Challenge, but I see the next half-month’s postings being heavier on photographs than words. And since my goal when starting this blog in January was to practice my photography skills as well as my writing skills, I don’t feel like I’m letting myself down too much. Thanks for understanding, and I’ll be back on track the first week of May!

 

 
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Posted by on April 16, 2013 in Challenges, How It Is, On Writing, Photography, True Life

 

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Message?

15 Apr

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The 22° halo is not a rare phenomenon. It is simply an atmospheric optic caused by the sun’s rays glinting through the millions of ice crystals in wispy cirrostratus clouds three to five miles above the earth. These rainbow-colored halos can be seen circling the sun any time of the year in any region of the world. Or so the internet tells me.

I saw my first one seven years ago, the day after my dad died without warning at age 58.

Above all else, my dad wanted me to be happy. If he ever saw that I was down or troubled or upset, he’d tell me–beg me, really–to smile. I, in turn, never wanted my dad to be upset or disappointed or unhappy with me, so I always tried to put on a cheerful face when he asked. At the worst of times–when he held me as I cried over my grandmother’s death, in a comforting email he sent me during the horrific days after 9/11–Dad would tell me to smile and somehow I would find the strength to rein in my emotions and do as he asked. His request could not take away the pain from tragic events, but it did help to balance the overwhelming feelings of sadness, anger, and confusion by giving me a different focus. For above all else, I wanted my dad to be happy.

On April 16, 2006, driving back to my parents’ Maryland home after a quick trip to Virginia to pack some clothes, numb and nauseous as I tried once more to absorb the reality of the previous day’s news that my dad was gone, GONE, I saw a 22° halo as I neared the Potomac River. I had to pull the car over while I gave in to deep, keening, hiccup-inducing sobs, because I just knew that halo was my dad’s way of telling me that he was okay, that I would be okay–and that he was asking me once more to smile for him. I’ve never had to work harder to regain control or put on a brave face, but as the halo slowly faded, some of the knife-sharp despair started to drain away too. Dad’s final message was the only thing that helped me get through those first terrible days after his death, as well as the series of further trials and tragedies that seemed destined to bury me in the subsequent months.

The second time I saw a 22° halo, about six months ago while sitting in a friend’s back yard, I immediately sensed it was my dad just checking in. I watched the colors brighten as the sun sank behind a neighboring roof, and I realized what a comfort the echo of his ritual request has been in the years of his absence, even though his deep voice and warm hug no longer accompany it.

“I got your message, Dad,” I whispered. And I smiled.

 
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Posted by on April 15, 2013 in How It Is, How It Was, Memoirs, Monday Mix, True Life

 

Chit-Chat

14 Apr

101_3474Nearly halfway through the April A to Z Blogging Challenge, and since I’ve posted every day, I get Sunday off (with no assigned letter) for good behavior. Earlier this week, I came across a feature, called Sunday Night Chit-Chat, while surfing through some of the other April A to Z Challenge blog postings, and bookmarked it to use today. I found it on Allison’s site, Duct Tape Holds My World Together and Coffee Fuels My Soul…, and she links back to the original creator at My 1/2 Dozen Daily. Here’s the premise:

  1. Copy & paste the questions at the end of this post into a blog post or comment.
  2. Start your post with a photo, joke, quote, something from the past week.
  3. Come back and leave me a comment with a link to your post so I can see how your week compares to mine! 🙂

Seems like a simple, stress-free way to end a hectic week, so here goes…

What are you…

…reading?  Beach Music by Pat Conroy

…watching?  With the hubby, the newest seasons of Survivor, Amazing Race, American Idol, and The Voice. When he’s at work, as incentive to do the ironing, I’m watching recorded episodes of my favorite British comedy/drama, Stella.

…listening to?  A bunch of old music…it’s time to update the iPod!

…cooking/baking?  Nothing fancy this week…just tried to use up leftovers before our long weekend getaway.

…happy you accomplished this week?  Got four blog postings drafted so they could be automatically published while I was away.

…looking forward to next week?  My mom is coming to England to visit on Thursday!

…thankful for today?  A Dutch stamp in my passport, thanks to a long weekend in Holland with my husband, my favorite traveling buddy.

Now it’s your turn!  What are you…

  • Reading?
  • Watching?
  • Listening to?
  • Cooking/baking?
  • Happy you accomplished this week?
  • Looking forward to next week?
  • Thankful for today?
 
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Posted by on April 14, 2013 in Sunday Best

 
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