Saturday

SoCS: March

March has been taken in a bit of a stride around here. To begin with I haven’t felt like I have had enough time to sit down and really focus on writing or reading or pretty much anything that will bring joy. Instead I have found myself resorting to hibernation mode on the days where I could have had some time to get things done; then afterwards kicking myself for wasting time.

Yes, at the beginning of March, I was already to march into the sunrise, head full of goals to complete and a list of things to do: yet somewhere along the way I got lost.

Do you ever get those days where you just feel you have had enough so you sit down and take a breather and some selfish time to yourself, and suddenly a few hours have been lost. Well that was my month of March really. Then tonight I find that I have literally lost an hour (darn those stupid time switches), and suddenly I feel awake again and aggrieved at all the time lost.

It keeps ticking whether we make the most of it or whether we waste it: and I guess we all need to feel as though we are wasting our time in order to do something about it.

So I shake my fist at you March, you have been my downfall and now I am protesting! Give me back my time and we shall have no more quarrel!

*marches off into the night and slams the door*

 

Take a read through the other SoCS posts over at Linda G Hill’s blog

Advertisements

SOC: Would you like to live without wood?

Wouldn’t it, wouldn’t it
Wouldn’t it be funny
If a lady had a wooden tit
Wouldn’t it be funny

Ok so that isn’t a particuarly pc rhyme but this was triggered and remembered from an old poetry book I had as a kid (this happened before from a SOC) , though I’m starting to think that this wasn’t exactly a book meant for children, at least not the age I was anyhow. But regardless we are trailed off the subject matter here.

Would or wood? the same sounds yet very different meaning it just gets confusing as so many things in life can do. If only we could see the wood from the trees or perhaps we should be hoping we can see the trees instead of just wood as all I seem to be seeing recently are trees being pulled down to make way for roads and building, and one day soon I worry I will wake up to find that I’m living in a concrete street. Yes it might be easier to maintain with no gardening to worry about etc but surely we should be valuing nature surrounding us at a much higher price.

Recently I saw a blog post which made me smile as it gave me hope that Spring wasn’t too far off and I’m looking forward to the days getting longer and the crisp bright mornings. I’m even looking forward to seeing if I get a new family of starlings in the garden this year, wouldn’t that be grand.

Bring on the Spring!

This post was inspired by the prompt from Linda G Hill

And the lovely post from KIWINANA

SoCS: The late edition

So it may have been slightly late last night when I decided to write, and my brain may not have been firing on all cylinders but I’m still going to use my SOC: even though it’s a prompt from the wrong week oops.

In my defence, I was catching up and this is the post that caught my sleepy attention

Linda G Hill

So I began to write using this prompt – SOC Jan 14th

But we’re not Datist here *grins*

Pencil v potato

This is how it all began, the start of it all, the very first move in the writers war. It was a mild day on the south bank that started as easily as any other day should yet it should be noted that Linda was there first. For days she had walked by that very spot in the soft dappled grass that lay under the old apple tree. For almost a week she had yearned to sit in the gentle breeze and feel free as she edited her manuscript, if she could only find the time. So when opportunity struck early Friday morning and a meeting was cancelled Linda made the lengthy journey towards her workplace yet instead managed to divert the destination to that desired spot overlooking the lake.

Taking out her pencil and red pen she set about with her soon to be most read novel and began the daunting task of editing. She had managed about five whole minutes of peace and pencil biting (well editing is indeed a stressful business) before she heard the nasal tones of her future nemesis.

Oh no that’s not how you want to do it

I’m sorry? Linda looked up moving a hand upwards to block the sunlight

The markings, you’re doing them all wrong…

Excuse me?

The woman plonked herself down in Linda’s blanket and began opening a large bag of cheese and onion crisps.

I can help you if you like, I’m a writer you know

I…

The woman didn’t wait for a reply before popping a crisp into her mouth and crunching very loudly near Linda’s ear as she leaned in for a closer look at the book.

Yes you may know me, I had my picture printed in gardeners weekly just last week and commended on my letter about how to properly sow daffodils. I also won star writer of the week for three weeks in a row for the church ezine. So you see I can help show you the best way to write as I am a writer.

Flecks of potato flew from fingertips as she gesticulated the emphasis on the last word.

Linda opened her mouth to reply and then paused.

SoCS – Ha!

Ha ha ha and he he he
Come little halfling
Dance with me

Thinking of words beginning with Ha in this type of situation seems more difficult that it should be. And I might have written a little rhyme but I’m fairly sure that I shouldn’t use it anywhere out of the realms of fantasy writing, too much Game of Thrones reading I guess.

If I only had half the time to think up words which have a ha would it make it harder or not I wonder. After having a few minutes to decide this then I have to admit that it would, in fact I am struggling to think, even though I know that there should be a number of these words available, maybe I should make it more of a habit to scour a dictionary every once in a while.

Disregarding the Ha for a moment though, I am currently typing on Written, kitten which I assumed would bring up a cute little cat picture every 100 words, however it appears what I have is a headless female singer image, am I missing something here? is there a singer called kitty that I should know about and I don’t. Oh yep apparently I guess I should because this next picture is also headless female with a guy holding a guitar hmmm

After changing the choice from kitten to puppy I wonder what will surface next on the images and I guess that if they scour the internet using these terms for pictures then I should at least be grateful that there wasnt a more warped tagging of pictures. So now all I have to do it type out another fourteen words in order to see if my writing can produce a puppy or…

OK I guess we shall go with not then … awww  😦

 

SoCS – Be

 

To be a Bee or not to be

It begins with a single moment of perfection, a conversation about an A-Z challenge and a pondering over the next idea for a B post. Then it arrived like a beautiful beacon, the perfect prompt for me to spring from.

So thank you to Linda for choosing this week’s prompt to land into the conversation at exactly the precise time that it was needed, I beamed a broad grin and was very happy with the discovery of my BE prompt. Now I was free to run away with the word and roll it up into new wondrous ways. Though perhaps not in the way that my initial conversation went, with had the bee literally being rolled up into a rizla and smoked, I mean who would smoke a bee?  Only a crazy person surely!

Yet as is happens I was happily mistaken and the poor boy was merely mentioning that people smoked out bees rather than smoked them, which seems a terrible thing to do when they are already on the decline. Don’t fret though bee lovers, the conversation was pulled back up into a nice level, with the disclosure that the bees in his compost bin were not smoked out and evicted, they merely co-existed in mutual happiness. Well except for the time when the bin vibrated under the warm summer months at which point it was given a wide birth.

So those bees could happily go about their business of creating honey for which to dine upon and feed their offspring. I fancied that they could have a bee banquet: a smile arose as the image emerged.

Just a tiny table surrounded by seated bees wearing napkins and eloquently talking about their hard day’s work whilst they waited for their honey holding tiny runcible spoons.

SoCS – Real

For anyone not already heard of the Stream of conciousness Saturday: which is a prompt put out every Friday,  then check out Linda’s blog below

Linda G Hill

My stream this week was encouraged by a CampNaNoWriMo cabin sprint too, so double encouragement, thanks guys 🙂

 

Real

Get real!

Think about everything that you need to get real with today. Perhaps you need to change something in your life or at least be real about it to yourself. Sometimes we get so set in our ways that we lie or at least cover up the truths, even to ourselves.

I get why, I do it too. Sometimes it’s hard to examine our real thoughts and feelings, hard to accept that change is necessary…is inevitable, yet when it needs to be done then it’s hard, it’s scary even. We put so much effort into living out each day with the idea that if we just keep our heads above water, if we just keep moving along no matter how slow, then at some point it will all make sense, it will somehow feel real.

But it doesn’t.

Sometimes the light of day is like pouring boiling water over dusty cracks that we suddenly realise are there. Upon viewing these blemishes we realise that everything we thought was real and honest is now nothing more than a facade: a strangers face tacked on to our hidden desires. A covering for thoughts or feelings that reside deep within, that we don’t simply feel we can show to the real world. so instead we slip on a mask and wear it well, so others can’t see the real you. We might feel alone in this fake life created, yet we tell ourselves over and over that somehow this is better than the alternative. That somehow the monotonous existence of our being is the real world, is our real life, and that wanting, hoping for anything else is too presumptuous, too extravagant.

Do we really want the real us to surface?

To swim free and vulnerable out into the open. To allow ourselves to open up and release the inner beings of our souls into the real world, to allow ourselves to soar and swoop amongst the others. Do we really feel ready to allow reality to test us? Are we prepared for the onslaught of real experience to taint our fledgling emotions, to cast aspersions on our real self, to crush what little fragility we have left inside.

Are we ready for real life and all its brutality?

Let me thing about this, whilst I hide under my rock a while longer.

Egg – SoCS

Over at Linda’s blog for the prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “egg.”

I had some train time without internet to kill so this prompt was a lovely thing to fill the gap, thank you Linda 🙂

 

EGG

What it the chicken of the egg that came first? Obviously those cunning folk among us know that the answer to this age old question is the egg. Ok,so it wasn’t a chicken egg, but a lizard or fish egg is still an egg never the less and why should they count of any less value. It reminds me of a poems I once read as a child and whilst I enjoyed the rhyme enjoy to remember it, I guess at the time that I never really understood it.

The codfish lays ten thousand eggs
The humble hen lays one
The codfish never cackles
to tell usewhat she’s done
But we all scorn the codfish
Whilst the humble hen we prize
Which only goes to show you that it pays to advertise

But isn’t it a great little poem and actually shines quite a truth on real life: those that shout the loudest do seem to get more out of life, whilst the quiet hard workers continue to strive on and get passed over. (walks away from the rant)
Now I remember this poem from a poetry book that I used to have as a young child, I can’t remember the book title or the poet and maybe even some of the words are incorrect but it is from an old memory. This isn’t the only poem I remember from being a child, which I think is testement to how poetry can really make an impact on people, or children even. I think it was the rhyme that made it stick, along with others such as Gerry the giraffe and Rhubarb Teb. Even the old Oliphant which I only found out as an adult came from a book: Tolkien – Lord of the Rings. When I think to myself of all the poems and song lyrics that I can remember it’s actually a fair amount of memory, yet I cannot seem to remember where I leave keys or recall conversations I have had the previous day: what’s with that?

Sometimes my mind draws such a blank on simple everyday things and I can’t work out how it can be so good for silly non important facts yet I can’t retain information that would be helpful. Perhaps my brain is just wired to prefer absorbing enjoyment rather than function.

So the prompt was egg right? *makes mental note to purchase Easter eggs in the sales to top up the chocolate supplies*