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I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I am now nearing completion.
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This week Charli’s prompt asks for sound. August 27, 2014 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) use sound to announce some sort of change. It could be at the beginning of the story–a lonely bar keep on a quiet road hears the rumble of motorcycles and anticipates customers. That could be good news or bad…Or you could tell a story that unfolds as expected until a character hears something–like a bride getting ready upstairs at the church who hears a shattering below followed by the shouts of her groom, “I’m outta here!” Sound can trumpet, clang or whisper. It can foreshadow or be the twist.
Respond by noon (PST) Tuesday, September 2 to be included in the compilation.
“Look at those crows circling.” Marcia said “Gives me the creeps knowing someone’s going to die tonight. Like vultures waiting to take the soul to another place.”
“Don’t be stupid. That’s just an old wives tale.” Peter’s exasperation was apparent. “Just because they’re circling doesn’t mean anyone’s going to die.” They walked on in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
Crrrrrack! Peter looked up at the noise to see the branch falling rapidly toward him.
Boom! The ground shook from the force of the impact. Marcia shook her head as she looked at Peter’s lifeless eyes. “Old wives tale huh?”
I hope you can find the dialogue that goes with these photos. We were supposed to put two side by side but I’m not technically savvy to work out how to do that. Even as thumbnails using left and right they went at different levels so I thought I’d prefer to see the full size image rather than teensy ones. Would love to know what you think the dialogue or even the title may be.
My husband brought home a dead looking bunch of daffodils the other day purchased in a fund raiser to collect funds for cancer research. Daffodil day is held each year for this purpose and as 115 Australians die each day from cancer growing hope for better treatment and thus more survivors is a very worthwhile cause.
The next day the dead bunch of daffodils had opened into a gorgeous showing of gold and yellow. It made me think that the the other name for daffodil is truly warranted – Narcissus. Where this name comes from is not known fact though it is rumoured that on the ground that Narcissus (the chap that couldn’t stop staring at his reflections in puddles) died these blooms sprung up for the first time or it could have happened vice versa. It could have been as Pliny expressed – named for its narcotic properties.
That is the amazing thing about the beautiful daffodil. It is highly toxic. They contain poisons lycorine (mostly in the bulb and leaves) and norbelladine. Of the two hundred different chemical structures of the latter poison 79 are found in the humble daffodil to the detriment of a number of children at a school in Suffolk who were poisoned when a daffodil bulb was mistaken for an onion and put in the cookery class soup.
You also have to feel very sorry for the poor old florist who suffers from an ailment known as “daffodil itch” which causes a severe dermatitis with itchiness, dryness, scaly skin, redness and thickening of the nail. All this because of a poison, calcium oxalate, in the sap.
Still there is nothing like going through a cold winter (which I no longer have to do) and seeing those first bulbs burst into colour. It is a sure sign that spring has sprung and summer is around the corner. William Wordsworth vision is what I like to see.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.