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Author Archives: dreaminofobx

Willpower?

16 Feb

imageTrying and failing to resist temptation

I am supposed to be on a diet to undo the damage sustained after fifteen months of packing away any kind of British comfort food set before me.  However, I am currently in Brugge, smack dab in the land of Belgian fries, Belgian chocolate, and Belgian waffles.  The city of Brugge has both a chocolate museum and a potato museum–if there’s a waffle museum, we haven’t found it yet. Within the 1.66 square miles of the canal-ringed old city center, there are more than 40 dedicated chocolate shops, sometimes three or four in a row on the same side of an ancient cobblestone street.  Thankfully, waffle shops and fry carts aren’t quite as numerous, though they definitely aren’t hard to find.  It’s too bad they were not distributing willpower when we entered the city, because rolling around an intravenous drip of the stuff would have been about the only way to save my diet from the warm waffle with ice cream and dark Belgian chocolate sauce I had late this afternoon, right before my dinner of Flemish beef stew with Belgian fries (the waffle shop closes at 6:00 p.m., so we couldn’t risk eating dinner first then coming back for dessert).  One thing I know for sure: I would have regretted leaving Belgium without experiencing its famous cuisine far more than I’m going to regret the extra miles and extra sit-ups the indulgence will cost me in the gym next week.

 
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Posted by on February 16, 2013 in How It Is, On Me, True Life

 

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Off-season

15 Feb

imageMaria paused by the window as she shook the heavy down pillows into fresh cases. There wasn’t much going on two stories below, and to be honest, she was partial to the winter months in this old canal city. The tourists preferred to come when fluffy grey cygnets paddled down the waterways behind their graceful parents and flowers dripped like jewels from window boxes. Winter meant fewer rooms to clean, which meant a back that wasn’t killing her by the end of the day, which was a godsend to her budding relationship with the lusty young artist with the smudgy charcoals, recently come from France to capture the grandeur of the city’s architecture in his sketchpad. Scrutinizing the telephone table beside the neatly made bed, Maria replaced the notepad and pen pilfered by the last guest, then scooped up the dirty linen and closed the door on Room 321 for the final time this week. Once the day’s soiled towels were spinning their way to dazzling whiteness in the bleach-filled drum of the basement’s industrial washer, Maria bundled up, climbed to the hotel’s ground floor exit, and stepped out into the gathering darkness of a crisp winter afternoon, anticipating the ways her creative Frenchman would welcome her home.

 
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Posted by on February 15, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Valentine

14 Feb

The Giant's Heart in the pathway to the castle

In pre-dawn shadows I come looking for closure;
This day meant for lovers especially brutal.
For weeks it seemed best to maintain my composure,
But on the dark sand that effort seems futile.

When life was too hectic this beach was our haven,
Where rhythm of waves drowned out worry and stress.
You laughed when I noticed the circling raven;
My fear of death’s omen you refused to address.

I dream of a future that’s now out of reach
And mourn the soul mate too soon snatched away.
You’re not coming back no matter how I beseech,
So I must say farewell this St. Valentine’s Day.

Gulls ride the breeze on which your ashes are blown
The sea whispers back that I’m never alone.

Prompt from Writer’s Digest:  Write a Valentine’s Day poem of no more than 20 lines about spending a Valentine’s Day all by yourself. The only rules are that it must rhyme and the final line of the poem must include the title of your favorite song. I opted for a Shakespearean sonnet and chose the song “Never Alone” by Jim Brickman featuring Hillary Scott & Lady Antebellum.

 
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Posted by on February 14, 2013 in Poetry, Uncategorized

 

WTN?

13 Feb

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Dang this snow that’s been falling all day,
I’ll go see if the ponies can play.
“Can’t you see we’re unable
To get out of this stable?”
So I said to the mare, “What the neigh?”

 
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Posted by on February 13, 2013 in Poetry

 

Overkill

12 Feb

HPIM1604Okay, so a couple inches of snow fell overnight, but honestly, the roads aren’t that bad! I think bringing the tractor home and parking it in the driveway was a little dramatic. There are no HOAs to speak of in England, but the Brits are notoriously fussy about anything detracting from the visual beauty of their landscape, near or far. Neighbors complain if you don’t weed your flower beds, and rally to prevent brand new play parks from opening because the slide and jungle gym are too brightly colored and not in keeping with the muted tones of the village. A TV satellite dish can cause a row if the neighbor can see it from his conservatory (ask me how I know), cell phone towers rarely rise more than two stories lest they ruin a scenic vista (can you hear me now?), and you haven’t seen wrath until you’ve mentioned wanting to erect wind turbines in an empty field. So tell me, how is this guy getting away with parking an enormous John Deere in his driveway?  Maybe he’s on call to transport the homebound to and from the surgery (doctor’s office) next door…

 
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Posted by on February 12, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Sly

11 Feb

snowy foxIn the past few weeks, I’ve seen foxes slinking around in broad daylight in several local fields, and the first thought that’s come into my head is, “I wonder if they have rabies.” Foxes are known for their skills as nocturnal hunters, and my perception of them as night creatures is reinforced any morning I drive to work and see a dead one on the side of the road that was not there the previous evening. But apparently it is not uncommon for foxes to be just as active during the day—guess the population is just denser here than I’m used to in Virginia, so I’m liable to see more. And besides, rabies has been eradicated from the United Kingdom’s animal population.

That doesn’t mean foxes are harmless, however, especially the 10,000 or so urban ones in England’s capital city.  Reminiscent of the infamous cry, “A dingo ate my baby,” a neighbor reported hearing a mum screaming, “A fox attacked my baby” just last week in the suburbs of London. A four-week old baby boy was reportedly snatched from his cot by a fox and dragged to the floor, where the infant’s mother kicked the animal until it dropped the baby’s tiny arm from its jaws and fled. For me, this story begs the question, how did the fox get into the house in the first place? The weather has been wet and cold for the past several weeks, so I wouldn’t think a conscientious mom would leave a window open in the baby’s room. (An window open to the summer—I use that term loosely—breeze was indeed the culprit in a June 2010 attack, in which nine-month old twin girls were mauled by another urban fox.) After much digging, I found one news agency that stated the fox had entered through a broken back door, and that the family has been rehoused by the council as a result. (Council housing is provided to low-income Britons, who often end up paying little or no rent thanks to a government Housing Benefit scheme, and with regards to upkeep and general aesthetic appeal, the properties generally fit your stereotypical image of low-income housing.) Happily, Baby Denny was moved from intensive care to a regular ward at the hospital today, where he continues to recover from last week’s four-hour surgery to suture lacerations on his face and arm and to reattach a severed finger on his left hand.

Experts say fox attacks are “incredibly rare,” but as more and more of the animals inch closer to humans and the easy food source of unprotected garbage cans, the likelihood of finding the cunning critters in one’s suburban home increase. Whether they are dragging last night’s chicken carcass out of the kitchen bin or hauling small children off to feed the kits waiting back at the den, it’s bound to be a nasty surprise. Just one more reason the Brits should consider adopting the American practice of putting screens on their windows!

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Rats

10 Feb

Gong Xi Fa Cai (or Gong Hey Fat Choy if you speak Cantonese rather than Mandarin)! Happy Chinese New Year! Today marks the beginning of the Year of the Snake, which has not been a particularly auspicious year in past lunar cycles (2001-September 11 attacks, 1989-Tiananmen Square Massacre, 1977-Elvis died, 1965-Malcom X assassinated, 1941-Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, 1929-stock market crash). I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to take a shower this morning (apparently on the first day of the New Year it washes away good luck), so I’m hoping to recover by wearing bright red and setting out a bowl of oranges. In the meantime, TOMW suggested I consider my animal sign in the Chinese zodiac, and analyze which traits are true for me.

Back in high school, I learned from the paper placemat on the table of the first Chinese  restaurant in which I ever dined that being born in 1972 meant my Chinese zodiac sign was the rat (⼦). This did not please me, especially as my brother was gloating over his tiger sign, given that my only images of rats were as wet, squeaking, ravenous villains scampering through sewer pipes in horror movies or as red eyes and scaly tails darting around laboratory cages in my biology class. I could not see any qualities in common between us, but subsequent study does reveal that I do indeed possess several traits that the Chinese identify with the sign of

Here’s a list of rat characteristics from an online source:

~very charming (I like to think so, but not in a smarmy way)
~gets more done than most (on a good day, when I’m firing on all cylinders, I can be incredibly efficient)
~adapts well in most environments (yep)
~good eye for bargains/discount shopper (I love sales, coupons, and auctions–rarely do I buy at full price)
~intellectual (yes, I believe so–not on par with a rocket scientist, but I can hold my own)
~good at concealing or hiding things (not to be deceitful, and only if it benefits someone close)
~secretive (I can keep a secret, but I don’t think I’m sneaky or conniving if that’s what they’re implying)
~creative (yes, if you count writing and crafty projects)
~talkative (about 95% of the time I’d have to disagree with this one)
~always in “alert mode” (yes, but I get lax when I’m tired)
~analytical (I usually try to look at all angles before choosing the best course of action)
~seeks power (I don’t really seek it, but I don’t run from it, either)
~great debater/gets point across (I try to stand my ground and present my argument logically, but usually think
of something else I should have said after the fact)
~honest (if nothing else in this list is true, I hope this is)
~takes advantage of others/opportunist (I don’t see this in myself, and I hope if others do, they will point it
out when it occurs)
~argumentative (not just for the sake of arguing, but if I firmly believe in something, I will politely and
respectfully defend it)
~materialistic (not in the sense of being greedy…another website suggested that Rats love to surround
themselves with knick-knacks and mementos to create a warm home environment–that sounds about right)
~anxious (sometimes)
~nervous (sometimes)
~very observant (as long as I’m not overly tired)
~quick tempered (not compared to other members of my family!)
~little hotheaded (yeah, okay, I’ll cop to this one on occasion)
~stingy (looking back on our childhood, my brother would probably say, yes, but I hope I’ve outgrown it)
~worrier (yep)
~good advice giver (I do give it, but don’t know how good it is)
~great imagination (until I sit in front of a blank computer screen…)
~resourceful (yes, I take pride in this one…there’s not much I can’t do for myself, and I thank my granddad for
setting that example)
~avoids manual labor (NO…I’d rather not break rocks in the hot sun for a living, but if something needs doing
around the house, I’m all over it)
~loves to travel (yes, I do, and luckily I have a husband with the same love)
~thirst for knowledge (definitely…always reading, listening, watching and storing tidbits of information)
~perfectionist (*sigh* yes, I am…more demanding of myself than others,I hope–one day I’d like to be a
reformed perfectionist)
~difficult to please (I don’t think so)
~good organizational skills (always in my mind, but they don’t always translate into physical results)
~dominant (only if the situation demands it…I think I’m equally willing to be passive)
~aggressive (no, that’s not me)
~does not seek advice from others (not true…I often seek advice from many sources, then analyze the results
to make my own decision–which can look like not taking advice, I guess)
~quick witted (sometimes)
~a doer, not a talker (I strive to be, because it frustrates me when others don’t follow through, but I know I don’t
always achieve this)
~great writing skills (we’re putting ’em to the test this year!)
~likes seclusion or solitude (yes, “me” time is important to maintaining mental balance)
~socially active (not a party animal, but I enjoy quality time spent with friends and family)

I’m in good company as a Rat–Shakespeare, Mozart, and George Washington were all Rats. But, unfortunately, so was Jeffrey Dahmer, so I guess that horror movie image isn’t completely wrong after all.

 
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Posted by on February 10, 2013 in On Me

 

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