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Image source: tibchris' photostream |
"Daniel, it's your turn."
Friday, June 17, 2011
Tick Tock
The old clockmaker squinted through the lens at the tiny gears. They must mesh perfectly or it won't be accurate, and his clocks were always accurate.
Ah, but maybe it's time to retire, to let his apprentice take over. After all twenty years is a long time to stand in someone's shadow.
"Daniel, it's your turn."
Written for Friday Flash 55.
"Daniel, it's your turn."
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
My House is a Fortress
Tuesday was just another day, or so I thought. It was one of those picture perfect days, not too hot with a nice breeze. The yard needs mowing so I change, grab a bottle of water and head out the door. What makes today different? I close the door (I usually leave the inside door open). OK, so you know that sinking feeling you get when you realize you've accidentally done something stupid? That's how I felt the moment I heard the door click behind me. I was just going to mow the yard...why did I close the door?
I reached back to check, hoping against hope that I hadn't done what I thought I just did. Yep...locked. Grrrr!
Now what? I assess what I have with me. My pocket knife, chap stick, nail clippers and a bottle of water.
Being the resourceful gal that I am, I pulled out my pocket knife. Just for the record, I have no lock-picking skills and the knife didn't do anything anyway. I walked around the house...thinking. We have a few basement windows, but they don't open from the outside. Neither do any of the other windows - they are securely locked from the inside.
There's no choice...I must call hubby and confess. Since I don't have my cell phone, I trudge up the street to the convenience store to use the phone, make the call, and trudge back. As usual, he takes it all in stride, explains his need to take an unplanned half day of vacation and heads home.
It'll take at least an hour for him to get home, so I figured since I came out to mow the yard, I might as well do it while I waited.
The good news from all of this...my house, although a modest brick ranch, is really a fortress. With the doors locked, no one (especially me) is getting in.
Care to share your best lock out stories?
I reached back to check, hoping against hope that I hadn't done what I thought I just did. Yep...locked. Grrrr!
Now what? I assess what I have with me. My pocket knife, chap stick, nail clippers and a bottle of water.
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| A cardinal who often visits my window sill. |
There's no choice...I must call hubby and confess. Since I don't have my cell phone, I trudge up the street to the convenience store to use the phone, make the call, and trudge back. As usual, he takes it all in stride, explains his need to take an unplanned half day of vacation and heads home.
It'll take at least an hour for him to get home, so I figured since I came out to mow the yard, I might as well do it while I waited.
The good news from all of this...my house, although a modest brick ranch, is really a fortress. With the doors locked, no one (especially me) is getting in.
Care to share your best lock out stories?
Monday, June 13, 2011
Quote of the Week
Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony. - Mahatma Gandhi
Our thoughts, words and actions are like dominoes. One affects the next, and it affects the next and so on. We are the happiest when all the pieces flow smoothly, and are in sync with one another.
Friday, June 10, 2011
A Miracle
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| Image source: Striking Photogrphy by Bo |
The wildfire burned hot, and smoke filled the evening air. Scores of firemen had been battling it for hours, when someone shouted "over here". There in the bank of a nearly dry creek was a small cave. Crouched inside was a boy and his dog. It was a true miracle on that hot August night.
Written for Friday Flash 55. While this is a work of fiction, devastating wildfires continue to burn in Arizona. Let's keep these people in our thoughts and prayers, as well as those affected by the recent floods and tornadoes.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Happy Birthday Mom!
June 8, 1925 was a very important day in my life. I wasn't actually born then - that is my mother's birth date. You can see the significance for me, right? I'd like to share with you a little about the woman my mother was.
She grew up on a farm in a small town in Maine during the Depression years, and life on the farm gave her a great love of nature.
During her teen years, she watched her two older brothers leave to serve in World War II, and she graduated high school two years before the end of the war.
She didn't talk much about her early life, so I don't know a lot of the details. After finishing school, she worked different jobs before going to work for the phone company. During this time she met my father, who was in the Air Force and stationed in Maine. When his service was completed, he moved back South to work for a trucking company (he was originally from Virginia). She followed him to Winston-Salem in 1952, and they were married in 1956.
In the 1960s, she saw the assassinations of President Kennedy in 1963 and Senator Kennedy in 1968. Together we watched the first man walk on the moon, and played badminton and kickball in the back yard. Some of our best times were outdoors, and I got my love of nature from her.
She was a smart, talented and creative woman, but she never nurtured her talents. Everything was put aside for me. I was her focus. She was completely selfless to the point of going without so others didn't have to.
I still have the Halloween treat bag she painted for me. It is one of my treasures. I used it as an example to make Halloween bags of my own a few years ago. Sometimes it is the little things that mean the most as we get older.
One year we spent long hours making Christmas decorations from styrofoam shapes, beads, glue and old Christmas cards. That was such fun, and we decorated our tree with them. I even used them as a history project in school.
My high school graduation fell on her birthday, and I thought that was cool. I also thought I was grown. It took a while for me to realize how wrong I was.
She grew up on a farm in a small town in Maine during the Depression years, and life on the farm gave her a great love of nature.
During her teen years, she watched her two older brothers leave to serve in World War II, and she graduated high school two years before the end of the war.
She didn't talk much about her early life, so I don't know a lot of the details. After finishing school, she worked different jobs before going to work for the phone company. During this time she met my father, who was in the Air Force and stationed in Maine. When his service was completed, he moved back South to work for a trucking company (he was originally from Virginia). She followed him to Winston-Salem in 1952, and they were married in 1956.
In the 1960s, she saw the assassinations of President Kennedy in 1963 and Senator Kennedy in 1968. Together we watched the first man walk on the moon, and played badminton and kickball in the back yard. Some of our best times were outdoors, and I got my love of nature from her.
She was a smart, talented and creative woman, but she never nurtured her talents. Everything was put aside for me. I was her focus. She was completely selfless to the point of going without so others didn't have to.
I still have the Halloween treat bag she painted for me. It is one of my treasures. I used it as an example to make Halloween bags of my own a few years ago. Sometimes it is the little things that mean the most as we get older.
One year we spent long hours making Christmas decorations from styrofoam shapes, beads, glue and old Christmas cards. That was such fun, and we decorated our tree with them. I even used them as a history project in school.
My high school graduation fell on her birthday, and I thought that was cool. I also thought I was grown. It took a while for me to realize how wrong I was.
She watched with much trepidation as I grew up, got my license, got a job, and eventually moved into an apartment. I was still her little girl, and that never changed.
When I married, she acquired a son whom she loved. She and Daddy always referred to us as "the kids", and continued to do for us even though we both had jobs and our own home.
There are many times when I still wish I could ask her something, tell her what I've been doing or just have her over and cook for her, like she did for me for so many years. Many of our conversations centered around food.
There never comes a time when you stop being your mother's child. That bond is always there. She taught me values and to treat others with kindness and respect, and filled my head with knowledge you don't get from books and school (common sense).
I am proud to be her daughter, and even more proud to have been her friend. If I ever manage to be half the woman my mother was, I will consider that I have succeeded in life.
Happy Birthday Mom. I miss you!
When I married, she acquired a son whom she loved. She and Daddy always referred to us as "the kids", and continued to do for us even though we both had jobs and our own home.
There are many times when I still wish I could ask her something, tell her what I've been doing or just have her over and cook for her, like she did for me for so many years. Many of our conversations centered around food.
There never comes a time when you stop being your mother's child. That bond is always there. She taught me values and to treat others with kindness and respect, and filled my head with knowledge you don't get from books and school (common sense).
I am proud to be her daughter, and even more proud to have been her friend. If I ever manage to be half the woman my mother was, I will consider that I have succeeded in life.
Happy Birthday Mom. I miss you!
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