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 |    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. |
| PROMPT: The Wildcard Round! Go to a book you're currently reading, and turn to page 56. On that page, go to the fourth complete sentence. That's your prompt...at the end of your entry please list the title, author, and sentence. have fun and be creative! Paul paused to listen as he entered the super shed. He still laughed about the family's designation . Granted there had been no specific plans when he'd erected the wooden outbuilding, and it had seemed to loom large as it was built. The moniker 'super shed' suited the hidey-hole. During its first full winter, no wild beasts, or creepy crawlies had dared to move in. Now, he thought he heard scratching, scurrying noises. Curious, Paul secured a ladder against one of the inner walls, and climbed up into the unfinished rafters. There it was again, the unmistakable tattoo of scrabbling claws. A few dried leaves floated past his head. Sensing that something was present and staring at him, he swivelled. He almost slipped. Two bright, shining eyes set in a furry face returned his gaze. Believing no one would accept his description of the intruder, Paul snapped a quick photo with his cellphone. Stumbling next door, neighbour Peter was consulted. "Huh, whatever it is, it's kinda cute. It seems to me to be sorta rodentish." With shrugs and shaking of heads, the two men decided to explore the unidentified critter. This time a flashlight beamed into the dark crevices. They discovered a nest of dessicated leaves, and some kind of blue stuffing harbouring two babies. "Well, this solves the mystery of the bald snowmobile helmet, " exclaimed Paul. "I wondered what happened to the liner." Hissing and chittering from the pacing mother highlighted the prudent plan to exit the shed. Obviously, a single mother had selected this structure as her family's abode. Armed with the camera shot, good ol' GOOGLE was consulted. Many images of wildlife were viewed until a breakthrough surfaced. Apparently, the mystery critter resembled a Northern Flying Squirrel. The super shed squatter had an identity. One of the first online 'hits' mentioned a California Northern Flying Squirrel. This seemed ludicrous, and Paul's first reaction was to laugh in disbelief. If this were true, that poor animal had to be exhausted and confused. The super shed sits in a rural area known as the Near North of Ontario, Canada. It is nowhere near the Pacific Coast of the States. Had this mother "flown/glided" all that way in search of shelter? Was her internal compass skewed? Was she for all intents and purposes, an illegal alien, a border hopper? For the time being, Paul is content to share the super shed with the single mother squirrel squatter. He has been called nuts, but he cannot bear to evict a struggling parent and her dependent offspring. This furry family has a roof over its head for as long as they need it. They have provided a handy excuse for procrastination. As long as they are in residence, Paul does not have to finish the painting, or the trimming, or the wiring. This is based on a true story. Today's prompt came from the novel, 'The Snowman'. The author is Jo Nesbo. This is the required line from his novel: "Even the media has picked up on it." |
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