Grandpa Comes to Visit

Better late that never, as the old cliché goes. I’m late to Jenny Matlock’s Saturday Centus party, but I hope there’s a glass of wine for this tired nurse. This is my favorite meme because it challanges us to distill our words down, which makes them more powerful, gives them more density. Each week Jenny gives us a prompt, and from that prompt we are to write a 100 word story, not including the prompt itself. You will find the Saturday Centus button on my sidebar. Click on over and read some good stuff. (If you're not too late)!

This week’s prompt: it was a dark and stormy night

Here’s what I did with it. The prompt is in italics.




It was a dark and stormy night,
lightening flashing, thunder crashing,
windows rattling, our teeth chattering.
We hid under the bed, clutching
one another like life savers
my brother and I.

The front door flew open, banging
against the foyer wall. Wind swept
through the hall that bisected our
antebellum home just yards from
the rising river.

Afraid to come out of hiding
lest we be swept away by the
howling wind, we clung together
with new energy.

An eerie quiet fell on the
house. We stared into each other’s
eyes, sighing, palpably relieved

“Grandpa’s finally gone.
We can go out now.”

“You sure? I’m still scared.”

reflections lost

APOLOGIES TO EVERYONE WHO HAS LANDED ON THE RED SWEATER. MY BAD. NOW, I'VE MANAGED TO POST THIS LINK TWICE. TO COIN A PHRASE, WORK IS THE CURSE OF THE WRITING CLASS (SORRY)

10/06/10 - late again

work and labor day play have me late to the party once again - here is my contribution to six word fridays, written on tuesday. gad. i must do better.
you will find the url for this great meme/blog hop on my sideboard, so click away and come see what it's all about.


reflections lost

transform yourself if you will but
beware of finding a stranger in
the mirror one morning and wondering
where you went - was it the
new friends you sought to be
included on all the right lists?
was it the little work on your
face to erase the lines you
earned back when you were you
the real you, the one with
certainly of purpose and confidence in
who you were? where did I
go you will ask yourself as
you stare at the stranger in
the mirror, no one staring back.

Summer with cj Continues

Jenny Matlock has done it again, thrown us a slider. This week our assignment is to continue a previous Saturday Centus post - ours or someone else’s - with the usual 100 word limit. Her button is on my sidebar, so check it out. It’s a wonderful writing exercise, and for me this week, a great outlet for anger and frustration and pain.

I am continuing “What I did over my Summer Vacation.” My addition is in bold type. And yes, it is true.



What I did over my Summer Vacation


I went to Miami, not to vacation, but to see to my son, who was bitten by a Brown Recluse spider and nearly lost his hand. I got calls from the mental hospital where he went because he started hearing voices again.

I began my job with Hospice, and after two weeks, I was tossed from the high dive in to the deep end of the pool - ten patients for me to take over. I sweated and ministered and prayed and was prayed over. I did not drown. I’m still swimming and ready for whatever tomorrow brings.

I am grateful.

As my son heals and readjusts, the crippling heat in Georgia continues, and I spend my work days driving from house to house, seeing to my patients. The full moon brought a spate of deaths, most pain free and serene.

One, though, was an agonal and torturous leaving. Her children refused morphine, accused me of trying to kill her with it, insisted I not enter her room without an appointment.

The anguish on that woman’s face will never leave me. She was dead before we could make an appointment that suited her daughter.

She is at peace. And I’m grateful.




This post is linked to Saturday Centus.



Read more at The Red Sweater.

Waiting

Late again for Six Word Fridays! Fridays at work are hard, so I rely on Melissa’s patience to allow me to squeeze my entry in on Saturday. She runs this very cool blog hop in which she gives us a word or prompt. We can use six words to say it all, but I am rarely capable of that, so here is a little poem of six word lines. You will find Six Word Fridays on my sideboard, so click on over the join us. It’s a great writing exercise and a wonderful opportunity to network.



Waiting


Waiting is hard, no one wants
to wait in a queue for
a cab or a ride at
the amusement park when it’s hot.
Waiting for payday is never easy.
Unless, of course you don’t need
the money. Hah! We all need
to pay the bills and feed
the dogs and ourselves and sometimes
have friends for dinner and use
the fancy French coffee maker from
Lyons that entertains the guests as
you finish up with the preparations.
Waiting sucks. Who wants to wait
for a plane that is late
or a bus that cannot be
seen, so far down the street
it is? I wait impatiently every
month for the first Saturday so
I can attend my writer’s workship,
see my precious granddaughter at the
same time. I am not patient.
Well maybe I am patient - occasionally
but not often enough to say
it’s a habit, a good habit.

Summer with cj

Jenny Matlock hosts Saturday Centus, a writing meme in which we are allowed 100 words to write a little essay or story. Jenny gives us a prompt, and from there, we begin to build our submission for the week. Please click on the Saturday Centus button on my sidebar to join in. You will find some good writing that runs the gamut from silly to serious.





What I did over my Summer Vacation


I went to Miami, not to vacation, but to see to my son, who was bitten by a Brown Recluse spider and nearly lost his hand. I got calls from the mental hospital where he went because he started hearing voices again.

I began my job with Hospice, and after two weeks, I was tossed from the high dive in to the deep end of the pool - ten patients for me to take over. I sweated and ministered and prayed and was prayed over. I did not drown. I’m still swimming and ready for whatever tomorrow brings.

I am grateful.



(Yes, this is true). Read more at The Red Sweater.

MMOM - cj Schlottman

Woops! It’s already Tuesday, and I haven’t yet posted on Java’s great blog hop, Meet Me on Monday. Every Sunday she posts questions for us to answer that might reveal more about ourselves than just what is in our blog posts. It’s a “get acquainted” kind of thing! Her button is on my sidebar, so click on over and join in!

Here are today;s questions and my answers:


1. What is your favorite dessert?
Creme Brulee!

2. What do you wear to bed?
Panties and my late husband’s Red Sweater

3. Do you get regular manicures/pedicures?
Yes! I need pampering - lots of it.

4. Did you play any sports in high school?
Nope. I gave up swimming when I learned
about boys!

5. Do you have an iPod?
I have THREE - Classic, Nano and Shuffle.
I adore gadgets of all kinds, but I
haven’t gotten an iPhone because I’m
addicted to my Blackberry.

Christmas Eve

Saturdays come around so soon these days. Having a JOB has cut into all of my time, but I am determined to make time for Jenny Matlock’s Saturday Centus, my favorite meme. Each Saturday, Schoolmistress Jenny gives us a prompt around which to write a 100 word story - I have even seen poems - not counting the words in the prompt. The trick is to keep the prompt intact and keep your piece to 100 words. You will find the Saturday Centus button on my side bar, so click on it and become part of this wonderful writing exercise. That’s why we’re all here. Right? We are writers who want to be better writers.

This week’s prompt is:

I listened to them from my perch on the top step and didn't know whether to laugh or to cry...

Here is my post for this week. You will see the prompt in bold letters.


It was after midnight, and my five year old head was spinning. Would he come? Did Santa exist? I thought so, but my brother, Henry, said Santa was made up just to trick little kids.

I heard a sound downstairs and slid out of my bed, cracked my door and squeezed through it into the hall.

“Hang it all, Gladys! I’ll never get this bike put together! Why don’t they write instructions in a language that’s understandable?”

“Shhh, Hank, you’ll wake the kids and Sally won’t believe in Santa.”

I listened to them from my perch on the top step and didn't know whether to laugh or to cry...
so I tiptoed into my room and cried my eyes out.



This post is linked to Saturday Centus.