%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| Camping Trip June 15th Prompt Scavenger Hunt! What ten items do you send the kids to search for in the nearby woods? Andre is with them - I mean, what could go wrong! Right? Who doesn't enjoy an evening scavenger hunt? It's an excuse to play with a flashlight. There are a few spooky shadows to get the blood pumping. Shadows may be created. No fear of sunburn. Feed a few bugs. They'll feast on you no matter what you do. Play hide and seek as you search for treasures.Andre is pacing. He's never participated in a scavenger hunt. The most he's ever searched is for a comfy spot to chill and a refreshing brew to quench his thirst. Clutching the scavenger list he recalls tests in his past. He never did well with expectations. With a wild-eyed glance in my general direction, Andre permits himself to be tugged into the deepening dusk in the forest. He winces as a flashlight beam stabs his cornea. The children are all chattering at once. The first item on their list is a lightning bug. Andre has never seen one. Would it zap him? He staggers and soon stumbles as the kids leap about snatching and swiping at teeny tiny specks of glowing light. After a few collisions and bruised toes the newly captured lightning bugs buzz within their glass jar prisons. Mark number one off the list. No one received an electric shock. The second item on the list required an eagle eye to spot, a feather. As far as Andre knew birds just didn't leave their feathers lying about for anyone to snatch. He offered to climb a tree and act as a scout. Sure enough he discovered what be believed to be an abandoned nest out of reach of the kids. As soon as he reached into that lopsided mound of grass and twigs something sharp pecked his hand. Forced to defend himself, Andre let go of the branch he perched on and swung wildly. When he crashed to the ground, the kids cheered. He clutched a fistful of fresh feathers. The kids didn't need Andre's assistance to find number three on the list. They found plenty of mushrooms. Some of them wanted to taste their spoils, so Andre confiscated all of them. Number four proved to also be easy to scrounge. Green moss blanketed many of the tree trunks before it became missiles to fling at each other. With the fifth item on the list the explorers trained their flashlights on the ground. They heaved and kicked aside rocks to unearth worms. Andre spent a few minutes hopping and stifling curses only to experience writhing, muddy worms thrust in his face. Since many of the towering trees were evergreens item six lay scattered underfoot. Several pine cones became squashed as little feet stomped. A flurry of sword fights broke out as number seven landed in the clutches of the scavengers. Andre tried his best to fend off multiple pokes and jabs from the wielded sticks. He resorted to swinging a stick of his own. Pirate attacks proved to be great fun. Number eight's search ended the battle. Would they find garbage out here in the woods? A pile of something glinted in the circles of light. Aluminum beer cans had been discarded at the base of a maple tree. The lure to crush them proved too much to ignore. The kids clomped along with beer can footwear. Andre squinted and held a hand over one eye. He became the victim of an impromptu game of kick the can. Oh, number nine on the list could be seen scattered everywhere. It had been tripping Andre no matter where he stepped and it lurked in a range of sizes. He had to dissuade a few of the kids from adopting boulders. In the process he became the pack mule for an armful of rocks. His fellow scavengers were feeling tired. Andre had no idea what to claim as number ten. What would be a surprise treasure/scavenger's choice? He already juggled rocks that he dare not drop. He herded the kids back to the start of their excursion. In the lead he pushed through hanging branches that snagged his fur. Something sticky enveloped his face, but he had no free hand with which to brush it away. Out of the gloom of the trees, the kids pointed and stared. "Ooo, look at Andre. That's one huge spider. Will it eat him? Quick, it's moving!" Andre shuddered. A spider? Rocks flew through the air as he squirmed and swiped. This was not the surprise he wanted.( 773 words minus the 22 of the prompt ) |
| June 13th - Monday This week you and Andre are in charge of the kid's Summer Camp. Give us the name of the camp, the age group you're working with, and a bit of background. Camp Runamuck. What an apt name for a summer camp for pre-teens. These little darlings possess master manipulation skills. Oh, their cherubic faces are not to be trusted. They bedazzle with their gleaming white smiles and their unblinking attention. Flattery is syrupy sweet. During roll calls they appear immaculate, spot less. No grubby hands. Not a hair out of place. No perspiration clings to their smooth brows. "Andre, I've never seen an arrow shot in such a masterful, take charge manner. You never miss the target. Can you show me again how a pro does it?" "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly hold a bow and arrow. You wouldn't want me to injure myself would you?" "Show me that rope course again. Wow, you make it look so easy Andre. Is there another method for climbing and clinging to the ropes? Is a helmet absolutely necessary? No one plans to fall do they? If gloves aren't provided you cannot expect me to scuff my hands. Of course you can swing from the trees. It's in your DNA." "Are you certain that's the best way to start a campfire? I've been warned never to play with fire. Correct me if I'm wrong, but fiddling with flammable wood and an open flame is dangerous, is it not? Should any of us be breathing in that smoke? What about safety first?" "Why should I be it? That's not fair to single me out. What assurances do I have that everyone will be it? You may run and chase if you wish, Andre. I mean you're an animal. You don't need a reason to flit about." Andre, bless him, is no match for these kids. Is it any wonder he soon throws up the proverbial white flag? He doesn't need the aggravation. He receives the message loud and clear. They do not require, or want supervision. He raises a drink to that.( 350 words minus the prompt of 34 words ) |
| Bard's Hall #2 Does anyone else browse through news headlines seeking something new, different, eccentric, weird? I cannot be the only one that amuses herself this way. Random tidbits of information swirl, spin, sputter as flotsam in the endless , churning current of world drivel. Too many topics limp along well past their de jour expiry date. Much of it is nothing but speculation, sensationalism. Have the news gurus not heard of flogging a dead horse? Perhaps I'm being overly sensitive. Two plus years of Covid statistics, Covid restrictions, Covid advice will do that. Recently, I espied a feel-good item presented as a brief video. I'd heard of urban warfare. It manifests in many forms, but this version intrigued me. First of all and most importantly, there is no acceptance or sharing of violence. A California couple stroll through their home base committing acts of guerrilla gardening. Those two words tweaked my interest.Guerrilla gardening? What on earth could that be? This smiling duo admitted on camera that they shoot indiscriminately. They aim their weapons and fire almost everywhere. They are proud of their actions. They believe they are improving their neighbourhood. They arm themselves with plastic, pump-action water guns, large ones that resemble assault style weapons. Their ammunition consists of seeds mixed with water which they inject into random patches of bare ground. They refer to their unique endeavour as guerrilla gardening. I consider them geniuses. The old tried and true method of gardening requires physical effort to be expelled. One must squat, kneel, bend, stretch, dig, scratch, scrabble, and pull. It's dirty, exhausting work. Blood, sweat and tears christen every project. Load a gun with water and seeds? Just point and squeeze the trigger? No gun course required? No painful recoil? Yes! Your aching knees will thank you. Thanks to this clever duo bright, vibrant patches of flowers thrive in areas that were once barren. I'd consider that civic pride. I'm wondering if farmers see this as a planting option. Imagine a gatling gun armed with water, corn seeds, and fertilizer spewing a swath across an open field. Plant wheat? No problem. Prepare the gun. Shoot and spore. |
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Happy June! May was so fun!
