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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. |
DAY 3 In Sydney, Australia: Woohoo! I'm in Sydney, Australia pinching myself. This is a dream destination and I wish my eldest grandgiggle, Sydney was with me. I shall have fun in her honour. The Hilton Sydney will be my one-day base and though it boasts many features, I have plans that will take me away from its amenities. Sigh, the life of a jet-setting tourist is a busy one. As fast as I could chew, I scarfed down my choices from the breakie buffet. I glanced at a menu and noticed a strange offering. The odd name spoke to me, lime syllabub. I learned it's a pudding concocted of whipped cream, sugar, lime, and sherry or white wine. Hmmm, intriguing... maybe I'll indulge later this evening. Oh, this is definitely a first for me, a vending machine that offers flip-flops. This gadget stands in the hotel lobby and a foot-sizing chart is displayed conveniently on the floor before it. Is this a subtle hint to relax and adopt beach footwear? Thanks, but I never travel without a pair of my own. My toes anticipate some sand and surf dipping today. My feet and I hit the street for a self-propelled walking tour. My head constantly swivelled and I rarely blinked. Wow, Sydney! I strolled through Hyde Park and I'm certain all anyone heard from me were gasps, oohs, and ahhs. The grass is so green and lush, but I did not tarry to lounge on it. The most gorgeous tree I ever espied took my breath away. Its leaves resemble green ferns and its blooms bedazzle with a vibrant purple. I like its unique name, too, the jacaranda tree. This is the oldest public parkland and it glows with pride and preservation. The many fountains are amazing and the Archibald Fountain is a stunning work of art. I love the water-spouting turtle. With no time to waste, I saunter over to Darling Harbour and of course, the name Darling reminds me of Peter Pan. Is this the exotic Neverland? Certainly, pixie dust has been scattered here. I can imagine pirates cavorting here, too. I enjoyed my meander through the lovely serenity of the Chinese Garden of Friendship and I stopped to savour a quick cuppa at the Tea House. After my brief respite, I discovered the magnificent steam-powered carousel created in the 18th century. Now, this is a working piece of history. Noticing the lack of steam did not dampen my fun ride. I envisioned bonneted, long-gowned women enjoying this sedate, civilized attraction. I am so grateful that style of fashion is in the past. Toting a parasol everywhere? Not for me. Buttoned shoes? Uh-uh, flip flops for me. Alas, a modern electric engine is deemed more efficient, but the original motor remains. I rewarded my toes with a dip in the pristine sand and surging surf at Bondi Beach. I strolled barefoot as I squinted and gawked. In my mind, I strutted as one of the beautiful, bikini clad beach bodies. Hey, this is a dream, virtual vacation, isn't it? With my walk behind me, I set sail on the Sydney Harbour Coffee Cruise. Now, this is the life, sippin' and sight-seein' on the water! With unlimited self-serve coffee, tea and biscuits I could prop my tired legs up and just exercise my eyesight. The scenic few hours slipped away like the silent wake of this water craft. The sun danced and sparkled on the water and caressed my pale Canadian skin. I ogled iconic sights such as the Opera House. Its distinctive white-sails roof is a wonder. Since money and time are refuted concepts in this virtual exploration, I next opted to indulge in the Blue Mountains Day Trip. This could have qualified as the various forms of travel in the comedy film, 'Planes, Trains and Automobiles.' My excursion began with a van ride across the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I then ventured on a train, a cable car, a tram, and my own two feet hiking. I felt the cooling mist of a waterfall and marveled at its mighty roar. It was no Niagara Falls from my home province, but dramatic nonetheless. I felt the imposing power of The Three Sisters. At Featherdale Wildlife Park I got up close and personal with a kangaroo and coaxed him to nibble treats from my hand. Oh, what fun, I posed for a pic with a cuddly koala. More of the unique scenery greeted me as I returned along the Parramatta River on a ferry. Intrigued by its name, I signed up with The Buccaneer Explorer trip. Sigh, no pirate ship or frigate awaited me. I was not lent a sword, a peg leg, or a head scarf. Pirate speak was not mandatory either. I boarded a small plane for a flight over waterways and lush foliage. Back on land, I beheld the wonder of the Horizontal Falls, a phenomenon of sea water and rock formations. At Cape Leveque, I dined on the white, sandy beach. I swam, splashed and snorkeled in the refreshing clear water which glimmers blue and green when spied from the air. Now I truly understand the words turquoise and azure. As I bobbed on the waves, I seemed weightless. Sigh, my eyes rebelled. Salt water stings. Reluctantly, I flew back to Sydney. Did I fail to mention the harmony of various accents I heard during my walkabout/ gadabout? Australia lures many diverse cultures. My ears savoured the broad long vowels of the Aussies delivered with such ebullience. I noted the sing song of Asians. European tongues are no strangers. Apondia  Lyn's a Witchy Woman  Lazy Writer est 4/24/2008  WakeUpAndLive  Prosperous Snow celebrating  and I gambol over to Paddy's Markets to browse and unabashedly people-watch. It's a fun evening after our busy day. Sydney pulsates with life. We chin wag and laugh. We come to appreciate the Aussie expression, "no worries mate." I wonder what awaits us during the train trip? |
| Day 2 in Antarctica: Yawn. Stretch. I feel like a sled dog as I awaken and shake off fresh snow. I never dreamed I'd be digging my way out of slumber. I am grateful for my longjohns and the cozy bivy sack. This super crisp, fresh air zonks me out. Chocolate for breakie and strong, hot tea. Why not? . I tripped over my own two feet climbing into the zodiac. Ice is everywhere. Wow, the towering icebergs are majestic! They are enormous, silent sentries. I wonder how old they are and what they've witnessed. This zodiac slices through the water effortlessly. My kayak weary arms appreciate this. My gasp is involuntary. Green snow? I don't see this at home. Our guide explained this is a phenomenon attributed to algae, global warming and penguin poop. Huh. Apparently, penguin guano is high in nitrous oxide commonly known as laughing gas. Is poop a laughing matter? We were told red and orange algae snow exists, too.Bizarre. I espied a few hundred or so waddling, cuddling penguins. Smart birds, they create chick care groups known as creches, the equivalent of our child day cares. One adult penguin is left in charge to permit parents to forage. Even penguins need a break from their offspring. When swimmimg in the frigid water, they are well camouflaged by their dark feathers. The resident leopard seals kept their distance from the zodiac. As I understand it, they hunt penguins in or near the open water. The penguins feel safe on land in their large groups. We toured The Vernadsky Research Base. What an impressive station in the middle of nowhere. I love the story of its origins and subsequent change of owners. Back in 1947, the British established this base and in 1996 they sold it to Ukraine for an entire pound. It was deemed too expensive to dismantle and it thrives today with numerous scientific studies. Wow, an impressive bar boasts that it's the southernmost bar in the world. We all sampled its wares and toasted our wonderful guides. Of course, there was no shortage of ice. It felt relaxing to shuck my heavy parka, toque, scarf and mitts. Returning to our sea taxi, we indulged in a brief snowball fight. |
| 30 Days Camping In Antarctica, Day 1: Wow, just wow! Never did I imagine I'd set foot in Antarctica much less camp there. This will be the adventure of a lifetime. Not having to roll, pack and lug a tent is wonderful. Time is wasted wrestling with a tent and in a freezing climate the howling winds would attempt to shred it anyway. The first thing I noticed is the absence of noise. There's a serene silence here. Ice and snow must muffle everything. Secondly and enthusiastically, I noticed the absence of insects. Hallelujah! Camping here at home in the summer I cannot avoid stinging, whining, vengeful bugs. How blissful not to cringe and slap. I understand bundling for colder temperatures, I've packed my woolen toques, mitts and scarves. I thought to wear the parka with plenty of pockets. I've been told, no, encouraged to snack often. Woohoo, I have an excuse to indulge in chocolate. Assured I cannot possibly gain weight, I'm going to enjoy this month long adventure to the land way, way down under.Peace and quiet plus chocolate, that's a win-win. Here is where I admit I've never perched in, launched or paddled a kayak. And I call myself a Canadian? Okay, I've managed to stay afloat in a canoe and a raft. I grasp the concept of balance and paddling. I do not relish an emergency release /escape into the frigid water. A few chillingly cold splashes I can endure. Do not worry, I am determined to earn the title of kayaker. I am already a certified yacker and I will put forth the effort to add the 'ka.' I presume the inflatable kayaks will be filled via a pump? I can blow with the best of them, but.. I like bannock. It's been years since I cooked it on a fire. Imagine explorers eating it perhaps in this very spot. I plan to enjoy the star -studded panorama from the comfort of my bivy sack. A few of our guides point at the expansive sky and say "les etoiles." They are lovely French Canadians.Vive Quebec and its twinkling stars. To my fellow bloggers and explorers extraordinaire I bid a bonne nuit. My arms are tired, but I believe my eyes are more so. I rarely dared to blink and the glare from the ice, snow and water is intense. I promise not to snore. |
| July 30th Prompt: Favourite prompt? Most rewarding aspect of participating this month? So, it's time for the highlight reel? Another month of blogging is behind me. As usual, the prompts pushed me to craft some sort of a reply. Not all of my efforts came easily, or without some reflection. Do I have a favourite prompt? No. I did enjoy the discussions fostered by the "if they can put a man on the moon, why can't they _____?" prompt. So many thoughtful writers here. Apparently, not many of my fellow bloggers enjoy the hand-washing of dishes. They would like a machine that causes dirty dishes to poof, disappear. So, some aspects of housework are considered drudgery if not icky. Is it a strange coincidence that numerous bloggers are left-handers? I salute their resilience. I believe as a group we're divided on the playing of music during the writing process. Some of us appreciate background noise and the rest of us prefer silence. If I remember correctly, many of us would love to visit Great Britain. Imagine a hiking, sight-seeing, writing tour of WDCers. We're all coping as best we can with Covid. I enjoy reading the various blogs and the conversations they spark. It displays a determined strength. May I say carry on. This virus will not diminish us. |
| PROMPT July 29th Write about an invention or technology that you wish existed that would make your life better. Yesterday I mentioned a talking mirror and I'd like to explore that marvel a bit more. What's the harm? Is there an upside? "Psst, hey mirror. You awake?" "Of course I am. Why would I be sleeping? I just hang around all day. It's not as if I could walk away." "Oh, sorry. I can't really see my reflection clearly. Are you sure you haven't dimmed?" "We had this conversation. I told you the lighting in here isn't the best. Stop squinting! You're making me look bad. Turn on another lamp or something." "There is that better? Oh, yep I see myself now. What do you think? Have I got it?" "Got what? What are you asking?" "You know, it. Do I have it? Am I special? Do I have that je ne sais quoi?" "How would I know? And just for the record, I'm not French speaking. I prefer plain speech. I deal with reality, with what you can see under your nose. Well, if you care to look." "Maybe I'd like to see a little less of me and more of myself." "Huh? The reflection I generate is the bonafide you. Those are your own eyebrows aren't they?" "Yes, I wake up with my own eyebrows already on my face. Sigh. Nowadays, I don't recognize that face staring back at me. I never had wrinkles and is that a double chin? Where did that moustache come from? Where did I go? It's odd, but it's like there's more of me and less of me." "From where I'm situated, I'd agree there's more of you. You're a broad, right? You've grown haven't you? You're a broad sight bigger. It happens." "But the true me does not look like this at all. What are those marks at the corners of my eyes? Have I been etched? Gasp! Are they crows' feet?" "Why not think of them as laugh lines? You still have your sense of humour, right? All that guffawing left its mark. They show the world that you've been touched." "Oh, I'm touched all right, touched in the head. I'm speaking with my mirror. My mirror is giving me a pep talk." "Um ,er, excuse me. You wanted a pep talk? Why didn't you say so? I can be supportive you know. That requires a different setting. You caught me off guard and snuck up on me." |
| July 28th Prompt: Write three of your own prompts and then reply to one of them. Okay, three prompts, eh? Here they are, ta da. 1. What is the most annoying habit of others? 2. Pretend you're a dog for a day. Write about a day in the life of a dog from your new perspective. 3. What if your mirror started to talk to you? What would it say to you? Hmmm, I choose number three. A talking mirror? "Hey, how ya doin'? Long time no see." "Um, you saw me this morning. Did you forget?" "Of course not. It's just talk. So, how ya doin'? Busy? Tired?" "No, not particularly. Why? Do I look tired? What do you see?" "Oh, ha, ha. Nothin.' It's a greeting really. Are you sure?" "Come on, you're my mirror. Give it to me straight." "What? You want me to gloss over the facts a little, or just lay it all out?" "Is it that bad?" "Mmmm, I dunno. You do have dark bags under your eyes. Did I say bags? Ah, ya... they're more like large suitcases. Aren't they heavy? You really haven't noticed them? Wow." "I only glance at you and this is the first time you've spoken to me. Couldn't you describe them as smudges instead? Your observation is a tad harsh." "Sniff. Don't blame me. The lighting in here is lacking. In fact, it's downright grim. Uh huh, nothing flattering in this room." "So, the lack of bright light is to blame? All I need is a better light bulb?" "Hold up. I didn't say that. I recognize under eye bags, oh sorry, smudges, when I see them. Oh, do you know about the wrinkles and the grey hair? Should I mention them? You seem sensitive." "Ack! Why are you criticizing me? No, I don't recognize the face staring back at me." "Well, trust me, it's you. You aint no spring chicken anymore. Wait. Where are you goin'? Don't you want to talk some more?" "I don't know. Maybe I need a second opinion. Maybe I need a better moisturizer." "You do that. I only speak the truth. I'm a mirror ya know. I reflect. That's all I do. Will I see ya later?" |
July 27th Prompt: Write about a time you were caught off guard, surprised, or had the rug pulled out from under you. How did you recover? Me, surprised? Hey, I'm the veteran of three children. Surprises are part of the child-rearing kit. Nerves of steel and unwavering patience are included in that make believe box. Unlimited humour cushions the other ingredients. So, yes, I've encountered my fair share of off guard moments. I've attempted to record some of those unforgettable incidents for posterity. Reading about the trials and tribulations some how verifies their existence. Trust me, when they happened I did not ever imagine I would describe them in a written form. I had my hands full coping, treading water, juggling, reassuring frightened children, trying to remain calm and remembering to breathe. I did what I could in the heat of the moment. Panicking is not an option. The strangest surprise I ever experienced will never be a chapter in a child-rearing manual. I did not venture into motherhood anticipating all would be accident free. I'm an accident magnet and since my offspring carry some of my DNA, stitches and fractures were a sure thing not an improbability. All of this aside, never did I forsee my son trapped inside an army tank. He had to be unique. I wrote a brief tale about our one of a kind adventure. He and I recovered, but he does not wish to revisit that time. Here is my account.
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| July 26th Prompt: What food would you like to judge in a Cook-Off? Rainbow hued awnings flapped and slapped in the breeze. The sun caressed the top of Hank's exposed head as he sauntered amongst the throng of tourists. His nose twitched. Meats sizzled. Sounds of chopping and dicing echoed all around. Bubbling and burbling mixed with the whoosh of gas flames. Notes, hints of onion, peppers, tomatoes, and beans danced around him. Sniffing he detected the subtle scent of spices teasing, tantalizing. Allspice pungent and strong. Cinnamon with its surprise tang. Chili and paprika smoky and sharp. Unmistakable black pepper. Oh, could that be a new spice, a mystery tweeking his sensitive nose? Ah, how he loved the annual chili cook-off. Hank's stomach growled. Saliva swamped his mouth and he swallowed with difficulty. Every year, the wait proved agonizing. At long last the clanking and clinking signaled the chilis were ready. Long ladles scooped samples into bowls and one such offering appeared before the quivering Hank. He blinked and inhaled the fragrant steam. Suppressing a sneeze, he chowed down. Oh, the mini explosions in his mouth. His taste buds tingled in delight. Savoury smoke spewed from his reddened ears, or did it? Tears welled in his eyes and he smothered a gasp. Now this was chili. Without reservation, Hank licked his bowl clean. With a belch and a sigh, he stretched. Hank lapped a bit of his ice cold water just to be polite. As a wide, blissful grin slowly split his face, Hank cocked one leg and let loose an unapologetic fart. Yes, this indicated fantastic chili. Instant gaseous combustion. Chili reduced to its most basic form. With groans, gasps and epitaphs colouring the air, Hank shook himself thoroughly and meandered away from the noxious cloud / crowd. He ignored the weeping, gagging people pointing in his direction. He shrugged off their comments. "Oh my God! This is unbelievable. Shouldn't that dog be dead or something? What's in this chili? Ack, I can taste it!" |
| July 25th Prompt: Reflect on your week. Challenges? Successes? What made you smile? Funny you should ask about my week... I hesitate to mention this, but I am being harassed. I am puzzled and I grow increasingly concerned. Not yet panicked, I am looking over my shoulder and dreading the familiar call of my stalker. His persistence troubles me. Why me? What have I done to attract his wrath? Will I be able to reason with him? Is he actually a he? The little fist waved in my direction and the dark-eyed glare struck me as humorous at first. I must admit I sensed the strong emotion emanating from my confronter although I failed to understand why it hurled at me. The constant tail twitch, or more accurately the agitated thrash emphasisized the chittering barrage. Okay, I recognized anger when I saw it. What I did not comprehend and still fail to see is the why. Why did a red squirrel scratch it's way up to one of my camper trailer's opened windows to share its obvious displeasure with me? The rapid fire chirring and chattering indicated impressive lung capacity. I never heard a pause for breath.The first time this surprised me I knocked on the interior wall and the intense creature scampered away with a flick of its bushy tail, but no abatement of the tongue lashing. I sat inside at a table typing at my tablet. I believed this to be an anomaly. Within a few minutes, my accoster returned to the same window and punched at the screen. This did not seem necessary to me. I swear the arms were waving as it again subjected me to a furious piece of his mind. I repeated my get-away-from-the-window strike and for a brief moment that squirrel defied me. He jumped to the ground and reappeared at the screen door in an obvious hey-I'm-not-finished-with-you move. He peered in at me seated at the table and commenced to chitter-chatter as he vibrated with indignation. His red fur stood on end. He perched atop the metal handrail before he swung from it. I stomped the floor and despite his bravado, he leapt to the deck. Did this end the assault? No. He had to express his agitation, his distress by scrabbling along the awning for several laps. Then he clawed his way to the aluminum roof of the trailer where he skittered and zoomed for a few more moments. For something that probably weighs two pounds at the most, he stomped, not light on his paws at all. This strange behaviour continued for an afternoon.That squirrel had a mission and he expelled a great deal of raw emotion and kinetic energy in an attempt to communicate with me. But why? What had I done to attract this wrath? I'm not anti-squirrel. I let sleeping squirrels lie. I let scampering squirrels scamper. I let foraging squirrels forage. I believe that squirrel lives matter, but what is the matter with this particular beast? He clearly does not see this as a laughing matter. I'd like to brush this odd encounter off, but that squirrel had a bee in his bonnet, a too tight tangle in his tail. Now when I hear a chorus of excited chitter-chatters, I wonder if I will be at the centre of a squirrel plot. |
PROMPT July 24th If you could switch places with one other person, who would it be and why? What in particular would you do? A switcheroo? Trade my body/existence for another? Ah, if only... Well, I definitely do not wish to trade places with a celebrity. No thank you. I value my privacy and I don't feel the need to confront paparazzi, or look over my shoulder constantly. What I do, who I do it with and when I do it is my business and no one else's. If I believed I could really make a difference, I might consider tagging in as a politician. Imagine pushing through new legislation? It's a thankless position though and it moves at a snail's pace. Would I like glad-handing and photo ops? Nope. Perhaps I could trade places with my hubby, the long-distance trucker. Sure, I've accompanied him for some of his cross-country jaunts, but I sat in the passenger seat being jostled. I have no concept of steering that big rig with a heavy load down the road. Yes, I'm a driver, but what I keep between the lines does not compare. Could I maintain that constant vigilance? Could I deal with idiot, inconsiderate drivers? Could I manage the delays, the frustrations, the obstacles, the loneliness? Could I 'live' in a semi for days or weeks? Could I survive on one restaurant meal after another? Could I cope with being at a physical distance and helpless to aid in a family emergency? His only method of contact is a cell phone and daily conversations. He lives that phone company ad "reach out and touch someone." What in particular would I do? I'd permit him to stay home while I delivered freight somewhere. I'd be a long distance trucker even if only for one trip. His semi is a new one and it's an automatic. It's well within the bounds of possibility that I commandeer his truck and propel it along a highway. Yes, the concept is feasible. Now, had it still been a standard... I am acquainted with a few CB words and trucker slang. Perhaps I could fake it until I make it. I am aware that a "chicken coop" cannot be avoided and it's open for business if the light is flashing. "Gators" on the highway are to be avoided. Strange, I know, but we do have them in Canada, too. He no longer hauls a "skateboard", so there'd be less climbing. The "travel agent" would direct my route. I've been taught to respect the "bears." Yep, becoming a replacement trucker is a doable switcheroo. I could even manage with a "black eye." |
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