Wakening day dawns
Still glassy water reflects
Through window: tranquil
http://lingeringvisions.wordpress.com/category/a-lingering-look-at-windows/
“Watch out” I screamed. Why couldn’t he just watch the road and slow down at roundabouts
“For heavens sake Janet. Don’t scream. I thought I was about to kill someone” Jack said.
“I didn’t know if you saw that car coming.”
“Of course I saw that car coming.”
“I don’t know what you see.” I wondered why he just didn’t slow down knowing that I was nervous. I felt so tense my back was hurting and my heart hurt it was pumping so hard and fast in my chest.
“If you say anything else I’ll never get in a car with you again. I’m sick of it”
I sat there, pursed lipped. How can I be quiet when I’m so terrified. Doesn’t he realise that these situations only arise because he is so laissez-faire that I become really nervous. If I don’t say something I’ll have a heart attack. I don’t know what he sees. If we have an accident because he hasn’t seen something then I’ll be responsible if I’m not dead. I glanced at him. He had that stony look on his face that didn’t allow an approach. How long will it be this time she wondered.
The silence was building a wall between them.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Watch out” Janet screamed.
I looked about quickly, anxiously. Whats happening. Are we about to hit something. She must have been screaming at that car.
“For heavens sake Janet. Don’t scream. I thought I was about to kill someone” I said.
“I didn’t know if you saw that car coming.”
“Of course I saw that car coming.”
“I don’t know what you see.” Janet said.
She looks pale. Why is she so nervous in the car. It must be because she’s seen things working in intensive care but she’s going to kill me. She gets my adrenaline pumping thinking I’m about to hit something or someone.
“If you say anything else I’ll never get in a car with you again. I’m sick of it”
Try not to be angry. I am angry. I’m bloody angry. She’s going to kill me. I don’t want to be in a car with her. I stare ahead. I’m not going to talk to her. She’s going to learn not to open her mouth in the car.
The silence was building a wall between them
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Watch out” Janet screamed. Her scream roused me from my doze.
“For heavens sake Janet. Don’t scream. I thought I was about to kill someone” Jack said.
“I didn’t know if you saw that car coming.”
“Of course I saw that car coming.”
“I don’t know what you see.”
“If you say anything else I’ll never get in a car with you again. I’m sick of it” Jack said.
Why can’t they both see the others point of view. I wonder what actually happened. Janet’s too nervous but Jack could make it easier for her and for him if only he would drive a little slower and have less of a relaxed manner when he’s driving. It would be so much easier for both of them. I’m not saying anything. Hopefully they’ll think I’m still asleep. I wonder how long it will be before they’re talking to each other this time.
If only they’d realise that the silence was building a wall between them.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/27/writing-challenge-shoes/
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It has been very hot in Australia for the last few weeks. Many parts are suffering from fire, more deaths have been reported in the period than normally occur as people just haven’t been prepared for the high temperatures experienced. It is not only humans that are suffering. The birds are feeling the heat as well and as we are in a drought they are attempting to source water where normally they do not use.
The rainbow lorikeet in the first photo was trying to get to the water in the pool. Very few birds avail themselves of this at my place because the pool, surrounded by building on three sides and a wall of waterfall on the remaining side, makes entry and exit steep and not that easy. This little bird though, desperate for either a drink or just to cool flew down, not realising that there is a glass fence around the pool and flew smack bang into it. I heard the thud and raced out to see the poor stunned bird standing, dazed but not moribund. I kept Zach inside and after 15minute I went out. The bird flew off at this point and I’m hoping it was alright.
The other bird, a Noisy miner, also flew into an almost inaccessible pond. The walls on three sides and the narrow opening usually deter birds allowing the goldfish to swim with safety from their predators. On this occasion, desperate for water the bird flew in allowing me to capture it on my iPhone 4s through the windows on one side of the pond. This bird was lucky though. He successfully had a drink.
Everyone loved Jerry when we arrived back at the store with him. He was a large puppy with massive feet and a very black coat with only small amounts of gold and not the tan that is usual. Thrilled, Mungo roused himself, tail wagging to meet the new arrival. Trog of course banished herself to an area under the house for a day or two.
Mungo enjoyed sharing everything with Jerry apart from his food. Jerry, a voracious eater wanted it badly. Mungo asserted his authority with a quick growl which the younger dog obviously recognised as “don’t you dare touch my food or your dead”. Amused we watched as he readily complied, reverting to underhand tactics to achieve his goal. He would stand and look at Mungo, a very slow eater, whilst extending his paw until it connected with Mungo’s food bowl. Without taking his eyes from Mungo, Jerry would then casually slide the bowl until it was under his nose rather than Mungo’s. He would usually get a few mouthfuls before Mungo realised.
We inherited with the shop a large chicken run which we immediately had filled with chickens, selling the free range eggs in the store. The chickens were fair game for Jerry who thought it was great fun chasing them as they were loose in the garden during the day. Working in the shop we were unaware of his activities until he caught one. The chicken was still alive but had bite marks where Jerry had grabbed her. I felt that there was no option but to put an end to the chicken’s misery.
Neither of us had killed a chicken but luckily Colleen knew what to do to bring a swift painless end to it.
“We are going to cook it. It’s not going to have died for nothing.” I said believing I knew the process having helped my grandparents pluck their chickens once they had stopped running around in a beheaded state.
I boiled the water to make the feathers soft and plucked it easily. I then put it in a pot in the restaurant kitchen to boil. The stock we could always use and the animals could eat the flesh. It surprised me that the chicken seemed to swell up on boiling and even more surprised when it exploded sending hundreds of eggs up into the air. I started to cry “Not only did he have to kill a chicken he had to kill our best layer. Look at all those eggs that it had.”
The chicken went in the bin and I vowed never to cook another chook again although on recounting the story I now know I should have gutted the bird and, what I believed to be eggs were in reality the wheat I fed them.
When I first heard that wood was the theme for this week my mind immediately shot to the timber on the wharf on the island of Tanna. The house we had taken to build.
Somewhere though in the recesses of my mind I felt I had posted this before and I needed to look at this challenge differently. It came to me, as I was thinking about Vanuatu, that on my shelf is a rudimentary bird carving we were given when we departed (1st photo). Then I noticed wood objects that I have collected from around the world that each time I look at them memories of places and people come flooding back.
my husband’s first honeymoon in Fiji. I wasn’t there but I love the statue of the canoe warhead.
The fat Buddha I bought in Hong Kong just after it had returned to Chinese governance. It reminds me both of the market stalls in HK and Vanuatu where we had a similar Buddha on the bar counter. I gained much comfort rubbing that Buddha’s head.
Then onto Germany from the Black Forest comes our wooden cuckoo clock. I’m sure our neighbours hate us as I can hear that cuckoo from way down the street.
From a small village Heppenheim, near Lorsch in the Hessen district of Germany comes my crow, a bird I love in the wood but am petrified of in real life as they seem to like swooping down on me.
From here to Australia. There are so many wood working clubs and individuals and a lot of them do some superb turning.
Now thinking of superb work the family heirloom comes to mind.
A fret work piece done for my Great-Grandfather the Scottish missionary to the Rocks in Sydney at the turn of the century by Curly in appreciation of my GGDad turning his life around.
http://wheresmybackpack.com/2014/01/24/travel-theme-wood/
Time 1235. In my kitchen waiting for the fruit toast to pop out of the toaster.
Sitting with pen in hand I’m in two minds as to whether I am glad this challenge is over with this post or sad. A snapshot of a brief moment. Fleeting thoughts now saved forever. It’ll give me back my book reading time not doing this but it won’t make that dashed book any more enjoyable. I wonder what time Mum will arrive. She’s really enjoying reading my manuscript out loud and it is helpful. We all like to be useful or needed. Or loved and wanted. Must remember to water that bonsai later.
Toasts up…..
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/20/weekly-writing-challenge-lunch-posts/
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