Get To 'F' (24)

Just a simple little pic as I'm feline a bit of a bad girl.  I stuffed 2 Haagan Daz Praline and Cream ice cream tubs in our shopping trolley when The Cheaper Half wasn't looking today!  Criminal ( at that price! ) but I'll feel like the cat who got the cream once they've all pissed off to bed tonight!

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Get To ''Halloween''

                              A mask tells us more than a face - Oscar Wilde


 This F-ing post's timing is to cover Halloween also..... While all my friends are making pacts with the Devil, my notions hang  more on the fancy dress side of Halloween - masked balls in particular. 

This time to add to the mystique and ambiance, is a cover song (from a movie I've watched a million times) by a delightful young man called Patrick Carrico. I'm sure the masquerade in you will recognise the song and film easily. If not, it's worth a listen anyhow!

 
     

Smooth Critters

Gee - you men have us over a barrel at times. You ask us to iron a shirt for you and then when we tell you to sod off and do it yourself, you put the garment on knowing we'd be mortified to let you walk outside like that......grrrrrrrr..........!

Sunday Snippet (35)

I don't know what all the fuss about these arranged marriages is. Me and my husband spent 6 months arranging ours  - and it went fine!

Seany

                                                      
The letter arrived on the Tuesday. A blue-tinged envelope held the words that over the years I dreaded most. 'Dear Dad..........'

Kids we were, your mother and I. Babies making babies, and look where it got us. The day the mid-wife swept you away through the swing doors, you bawling in her arms, was sickening. One kiss on that tender, peachy face and you were gone. 'Best all round' the cast of adults assured us. I can remember that night my mother sobbed her heart out, repeating over and over that she was sorry. We split up soon after, your mother and I, well, removed by distance. Wasn't I just lucky to have landed that job with Uncle Alex?


You were that shadow in the back of my mind. The one I could skip over, ignore even, but it didn't go away, just shifted itself into many other shapes, but always formed its original heart outline when not in use. 

I should have been your hero, your protector, your driving force, your hormone advisor even, and sharing laughs and plans that only we need fill. Then again, I should be down on my knees kissing your adoptive father's arse. He's the true hero. There for you all your life. Not even did he stand in the way of you finding me and gives his blessing for us to cohere if we decide to!


I know you know that your mother passed away and you are survived by a sister on her side.  You also have two little sisters via me! If ever a man needs a son, it's now!  Pure blood races through our veins.  I can't believe how maturely you're taking this. I deserve the anguish, guilt, shame, melancholy and all its awful trimmings for my absence.  But you trust a mere hug will bury them.


Seany, we'll try one day at a time, lad. If this doesn't work out, then the heart-shaped shadow will remain perfectly fixed as so.


Dad
XxX
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Mother F****r ! She's 66 !?

I try not to inflict my music passions on others too much  *ahem*  but I've just come across this video for Blondie's last single 'Mother'. No other band has influenced my life as much, or as long, as these old veterans. Form 30 years I've loved them. The mother of all female pop icons still rocks it at 66 (looking 20 years younger) and still ingests the fun, fear and funky into what makes a great song, captured in video, more memorable. Go Debs.....



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Sunday Snippet (34)

Nothing works better for me than a Sunday morning runny, half-cooked fried egg on a roll - especially if you were out the night before - and it led me to wonder how Morrisons train hens to lay these 'Taste the Difference' eggs.  It's the hens from the 'Economy' range eggs that I'm slightly puzzling over.......hmm?

Sweet Trouble With The Bubble.......

Out they come in tubes of colours, from the pockets of the mothers
 - seeking solice in the afternoon
Bubbles for fauteur de troubles, well fed up with muck and puddles -
willing now to quietly attune

All it takes you understand, is puffy cheeks and wand in hand,
dipped so deeply down into the lotion
A steady blow until the air, takes it into it's own care,
have you ever see such globular devotion...??

As they delicate the sky, focus on one with keen eye,
and watch the rainbow ripples circle round
Coloured oils swirl into rivers, that gives one delightful shivers,
as it settles on a leaf or on the ground.

Soak the plastic till it's thicker, blowing harder and much quicker,
 -  watch a hundred baby bubbles fight for space
Or run into them arms out wide, oozing soapy-suddy pride,
and feel the magic of the POP! against your face.

Now skillfulness is what is needed,  if previously you succeeded,
to blow the biggest bubble that departed
You must recapture it again, the rule is simple and it's plain -
 back on the very wand from where it rightly started!

No matter what a child desires,  essential things that life requires,
the humble bubble is the captor of our peace.
That every single generation, will always find a true elation,
from that gulp of air, their lips then first release.

It's 2.45am. I've Insomnia. And I Still Haven't Had A..........

Four hours ago, I intended on going to the loo to piddle.........and I still haven't been. Another victory for all those pelvic floor exercises I maintained during my pregnancies!  Who am I kidding......I'm sat here and the thought of that cold porcelain ain't doing me no favours. Potty, anyone....?

Get To 'F' (21)

Getting to 'F' this week was fun. Thank you NorseGod for choosing the pic.  I kinda know the feeling as I get my knickers in a twist often enough, but I'd need to be mega-stressed for this effect:

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Sunday Snippet (33)

I've just returned from a visit to an elderly relative, who turned 95 recently.  As the visitors came and went, she was reminding absolutely everyone that she was a great, great, great grandmother.  I, for one, would have expected a little more modesty from a woman of her generation........

Get To 'F' This Way Too.......! (20)

This week's picture really says it for itself.  Just imagine how many would sell if such a hybrid was produced.  Mind you, they'd have to succeed in developing a variety to please the hot-peppered gals, too! Just a little bit more, perhaps....I enjoy a good mouthful.....!
  
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                  have a quick visit for similar pics at my other blog HERE

And (one up) For The Happy Cow That Lives Down The Lane

(I grew up with classic Disney in my heart, but for my own kids' upbringing, these old characters were overshadowed by newer Disney ones.   However, they'd probably still have enjoyed this poem accompanying the picture........*ahem*)

Donald was the champion of grumpy, bumpy frowns
Hardly smiled at anything, no time for laughs or clowns
Asked some friends to join him on a shooting trip, one day
But no-one took him seriously, much to his dismay

'Look', he said, 'we're all just figments of old Walt's imagination,
but let's not get ideas that are way above your station!
Some of you are nobodies, just used for background fodder,
I think you'll find (till Mickey shows) I deserve the best of lauder!'

But the gang just laughed and wouldn't pose, kept sticking out their tongues
One by one their scrawny necks he could have gladly wrung.
Even in the distance, Clarabelle found it amusing, but
She knew her forest friends were in real danger of a bruising

So she spun a magic rainbow, chucked in colour, made it sparkle
Lured the mad drake forward, (notions heading patriarchal!)
Said, 'There's treasure at the rainbow's end, to suit Sir Donald Duck!"
But there wasn't, just a grand excuse for him to get to........

Catching Phosphorescence

This is a particularly poor attempt at a short story. It's been one of those week's where the juices, and idea's aren't flowing. Wanted to give it a try, though, as I enjoy entries made here. Not been short story writing for over 20 years and like this colour - it's a bit rusty...and not so short! Fingers crossed for the future....!

Senga waited patiently for Linus.  He promised he'd return to the bay for her.  That summer he left impinged upon her greatly, and for a long time cut her open every day.  Not even the salt of the cooling sea could cleanse the hurt. The day she felt those soft blue eyes resting on her was the day she felt she'd grown up.  Fourteen years old and in love with Linus.

It didn't take long for his fisherman father and needle-crafter mother to settle in.  The small isle welcomed the great angler.  His techniques were astounding and he soon became kitchen talk.  Linus felt proud of his father but had regular bouts of guilt.  As much as he loved traveling, even across the seas, he had music in his heart instead of fish.  Linus, a pretty boy who captivated women of all ages, especially while caressing his flute of luring notes.

Senga and Linus made plans for the future. They would sail around the world, revisiting all the places he had been.  Japan was the country she wanted to visit most and he depicted for her his memories.  How approaching boats made the land look as if it rose straight out of the water, and how all the trees there seemed to grow sideways. Daylight made everything look lacy and on the waters on a still clear night, reflecting stars erased the horizon and it felt as though you were sailing through a huge bowl of stars.  His biggest promise was to catch her a sea-firefly, one chilly magical night.


'I'll bring you back phosphorescence', he promised.  'and it will glow so bright, a token symbol of my love for you'.  And she believed him, until fate struck a direct blow.


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On the day he departed, heading back to Europe after his father died,  the darkest skies ever hooded the bay.  The young lovers clung to each other, each kiss tenderly stinging. Senga had hardly the energy to stand. The pain so ripping and so raw. At nineteen, they said their goodbye's.  He promised he would sail back in style for her, be the captain of a trading fleet and whisk her away to become his wife. 


 After a few years Senga lost faith in her beloved ever returning.  Her life moved on but rested with no-one new.  Accepting a few male invitations she did, but marriage, her mother feared, would evade her, lest it be for mere company.  Her heart had already been thrown into the sea and eaten by the creatures that scoured the bed looking for abandoned food.  Promises.


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Tearing herself from bed, she ran barefoot out into the night and towards the shore.  A commerce sailing vessel had anchored at the bay earlier on in the day while she was away and she only just heard the news. Large sails were not common and rarely passed by the bay. By the time she reached the sand the ship was far out. Holding out the lantern and waving was no use.  It kept on it's way.


In the ship, the Captain approached a tired and weary looking crew member.


             "Linus....? What troubles you?"

             "Sir, I wanted to make it ashore today, but awoke a short time ago only to find that we're heading back"

               "Ah, lad.......the trials of the sea. When she rocks you to sleep, you must obey." he sighed........."hold on....is that a swaying light on the shore....?"

                Linus  followed his line of vision and leaned far over the ship's side.  " No, sir.......I think that's merely  a firefly."
   

Opting For........(POETS RALLY week 50)

 

Have you often been this acrid
You, the keeper of that tongue?
Lashing it so recklessly
With that little mood you swung

Stop being oh, so touchy
Stop delving in so deep
The whole world, ain't against you
It's the hours you chose to keep

It's a struggle, some requirements
Often have to change their path
Unexpected rings, and social flings
Familiar aftermath

Some excuses really are,
The truth, and so you see
Disappointment scales the plans
In which we can't foresee

No damn hidden agenda
No one's stabbed you in the back
Short notice comes in bouts at times
It's hard to keep on track

Tainting those in colours
With that tarry, tarry brush
Might end in sad extinction
If a heart you lamely crush

Some fib to spare a feeling
We've survived it at all before
But some in selfish attitude
Head you straight for the front door

Make a scene, by all means, honey
Scream and shout and stomp and curse
Is it worth it, these huge mountains?
If you tumble off headfirst?

The Hiding Swallow.......

I waded through those heaving sheaths of wheat. Open heart, clogged head. A few days ago I found out you are not my real brother and it is your blood that is pure.

Our parents chose me well. Colouring, in eyes, of skin, was consistent with theirs. Two blues couldn't make a brown - right? So my copper hair and azure eyes secured the lie that gave me acceptance and substance of who I was. Never ever questioned. Until now.

Why couldn't I work it out? You, Mathew, with your matinee features, ease of tanning, your confidence roaring, and me with my plain face, pasty skin and placid nature. How could we share the same genes? My protector, my shield. You were my hero and I often felt like your bane.

Father told me in that hospital room before he died, that I have a birth mother out there somewhere. Knowing you now live so far away, I think he got scared for old quiescent me. I have no one else. I understand this revelation I was never to find out, but with mum gone, he panicked. This helped his passing, no secrets, no pain, no linger. Just peace.


So, I'll see you tomorrow and together we'll arrange the funeral. I can't believe it's been 13 years and you haven't married! That was expected of me too, but virtual recluses aren't likely to taste matrimony.  I'm surprised at you, though. All the girls that wanted to be my friend just to get closer to you! My handsome big brother........

Before you head back, Mathew, will you trek through the wheat field with me?  Remember how we used to take that shortcut home and risked time and again, the rage of the farmer?  But the beauty of that field, the performance that captivated, was when the swallows circled us, speed and angle perfect, catching the winged insects we disturbed while paving our golden route. You told me they only appeared to those with pure hearts. No liars, cheats or fakers would ever be encircled. Only those who truly feel love. What will our chances be? Will your protective shadow ever be standing behind mine again?


I bit my lip yesterday and tasted the blood as it filled my mouth. Yours would taste no different, if the swallows ever misjudged the dive and speared your heart. Welcome home, Mathew.

Caress For Less

I'm into the habit now of trying to watch an online movie a night in my 'me' time. Never would I download any films to my comp *(he's getting on a bit) and I don't want to lumber him with any more applications and shit. The lure of the laptop is enticing me greatly. But I've faith in this old rattler yet. Sometimes, all he needs is a bit of a clear out and he complies better (bit like the cheaper-half!).

After a huge search, and some trial and error, I found a great site with no complications, no download and no sign-up. Just a click and you're off with the choice of two screen sizes. So tonight I'm regressing back into my musical youth and watching, in pure cheese 80's rock and roll, Some Kind Of Wonderful, with Eric Stoltz, hair as ginger as the title colour. Takes me back to my first kiss, with you, Robert McMillan, you balding ex-lothario, you........

 *whisper

Sunday Snippet (32)

I often see signs like this when I'm out and about:

Honestly, this kind of slanging must do some damage to their confidence.....! What makes it worse is that these signs are found near schools and busy suburban areas. If it's better grades society wants out of  kids, then this shock tactic ain't gonna work.......!