%%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. |
| April 13th Prompt by Carol St. Ann (881) 4/13 Staying at Home: Enough already! Do you actually use all the rooms in your house all the time? For example, I have a formal living room I never use. Why do you think we build houses with unnecessary rooms? What if you were to re-purpose that room (or space)? Share your idea. Carol St. Ann My current abode is a two bedroom apartment set nineteen steps above the street. Yes, I live in all the rooms. In the past, I owned houses, but they never had unused space. I never lived in a space too big to clean. I do know people with formal dining rooms that are rarely if ever used. Some people have two kitchens in their homes, too. I always wished I had a large attic, but alas, that never happened. If I ever live in a house in the future, I'd fancy a large patio, or deck opening up off the open concept kitchen and living room. That flow of space would be awesome! Perhaps I could include a swimming pool in a glass-walled room. But wait, I live in Canada, but dream in Florida, or Nevada, or California. I covet the warm-fair-all-year-weather of other countries. Unless I move, none of this will happen. I'd be content with the modification I posted yesterday, a new den / library. |
| Hundreds of these large stone spheres are scattered across the Costa Rican jungle and are thought to have been constructed by prehistoric humans. For years, they have baffled scientists and archaeologists as to why they are there and how they were built. The spheres range up to 2.4 meters (8 ft) in diameter and are almost perfectly round. 5 DAY Andre the Blog Monkey's April Fools Mystery Writing Challenge Blog Prompt for Day 4 - Andre the Blog Monkey helped me out with today's prompt. Andre sometimes drinks vodka to a point where he talks of stone ball drinking parties in the jungles of Costa Rica. I looked it up and it's a legit thing. I asked Andre about the stone balls but he doesn't remember much about anything. Andre will name a drink in the bar after the blogger who writes the best explanation of ... The Mystery of the Stone Balls of Costa Rica So, just to be clear, we're delving into the mystery of big balls, right? Costa Rica has balls of unknown origin littering their jungles. Researchers, I'm certain, have determined these objects are not wayward beach balls, or volleyballs, or malformed shuttlecocks. What are they? They must have a purpose. Doesn't everything have a purpose? Someone at some time, created these balls for their own amusement. Cats, felines spring to mind. They do what they want, where they want and with whatever they want. They find the strangest things amusing. They can be spontaneous and their motto must be "repercussions / consequences be damned." I am a cat and I will do this right now because I wish to and I am capable. I do not feel compelled to explain myself to anyone. What is the single most gross thing a feline does? This action is accompanied by the most horrendous sound. Yes, I write of the dreaded, steaming, liquified blob known as a hairball. It's delivery system involves hacking, yacking, retching, and gacking. I suggest to you that these balls are simply petrified hairballs that were once batted around and rolled in layers of silt and mud. With each sediment layer, the balls grew. As with all play things, the cats grew tired of these balls and they abandoned them for better pursuits. No? Not buying into that theory? How about considering these balls as beads from a giant necklace? The string holding them together snapped and spilled a trail of beads bouncing away into the jungle. Perhaps these stone balls are actually rather large pellets for an immense BB gun. Of course, I realize only an individual of a certain enhanced stature could tote this weapon. Did Paul Bunyan ever venture to Costa Rica? I know I've mentioned him before, but just how large is Big Foot? Okay, okay, I have one more theory and I believe it's as plausible as any out there, circulating and percolating. Are you familiar with the Italian lawn bowling game, bocce? Yes, I theorize that these stone balls are the bocce balls of a giant race of beings who once vacationed in the tropical jungles of Costa Rica. It's a game played on any outdoor surface, so why not on the lush ground of this paradise? This would explain the seemingly random placement of the balls. They appear to be scattered and bocce are thrown to land with a thud and a roll. Due to their substantial girth and weight these balls are not easily transported. This must have been the site of past bocce tournaments. We know a bowling alley sounds like thunder imagine this venue's noise levels. I'm left scratching my head. Why do these balls exist and why in Costa Rica? I'm also puzzled re the drinking parties held there. Unless I'm missing something, how do the drinkers balance their various beverages of choice on an almost round ball? They are not suited as tables, right? And another thing, should tipsy imbibers be traipsing about a jungle? Don't they know about the tripping hazards on a jungle floor? |
| Sunday, April 12 th Prompt by Carol St. Ann (881) 4/12 Staying at Home: Daydreaming The good the bad and the ugly things about your house have been getting on your last nerve. Today fate has smiled on you. You’re the recipient of a 1 or 2 room renovation on your favorite Home-Reno show. It will be at no cost to you and will (of course) be completed in an hour. Which show would it be? Which room (but not more than 2 ) would you redo? Smile for the cameras, and describe the experience. Smile? You do realize that I've been self-isolated for several weeks now, don't you? My hair has declared a mutiny. In protest, it seems to be tripling its length. Without sunshine or much fresh air, my hair is a growing concern. I do not have the gardening shears , or the expertise to whack trim it back. What's that lovely descriptive? My coiffure looks like a rat's nest. Okay, I could wear a hat, but hats and I agree to disagree. So, there will be no cost for this miracle? I cannot argue with this. And all of this will be completed in an hour? Really? As long as I'm not the one cleaning up the mess afterwards, I'm on board. Initially and compulsively, I thought I'd like a new and improved kitchen. For years, I've dreamed of wall-mounted ovens, a dishwasher, oodles of cupboards and deep drawers, miles of countertops, gigantic appliances... you know, "the dream kitchen." Sigh. I live alone most of the time now and what would I do with all this grand space? Cooking for one doesn't require a football field-sized area. I've got it! Could I have a library/den? My books and collectibles, you know knick-knacks, photos, memorabilia, greenery/plants/indoor grow op. ...my stuff needs a more generous space. Everything is rubbing shoulders, vying for breathing room. Perhaps I could indulge in some new(er) furniture, too. I'd like a haven, a tranquil nook, a retreat of sorts. Choosing the bestower of my makeover is not an easy task. A plethora of renovators flood the market. While their respective television programs are not my usual fare, I did binge-watch a few during my knee replacement recuperation. I believe in supporting Canadian enterprise, so I choose Bryan and Sarah Baeumler to work their makeover magic. They reside near Toronto and I reside about a three to four hour drive from there. Bryan provides the muscle, the physical carpentry and such. His wife is the style guru. They seem to share my vision, or at least understand it. They can not help but notice the crowded conditions my books live in. The two of them design and create floor to ceiling book cases of oak that stretch over an archway. They incorporate cubbies and nooks. They gift me with a window seat cushioned with floral-printed pillows. The real surprise is a soaker hot tub! How could they possibly know that is a dream of mine? How did Bryan install the plumbing? And in an hour? They are miracle workers, true geniuses, visionaries! How would I describe this experience? Both my home and I felt pampered and loved. We feel as if we were treated to a luxury spa "the deluxe works package." We glow. We enjoyed the camaraderie, the professionalism, the undeniable results. Thank you Bryan and Sarah! Smile? Oh, I'm grinning. And I did not have to sweep, vacuum, dust, rearrange, lift anything. I suppose I was so bedazzled, but I do not recall seeing the camera people. Where were they? They are like ninjas, silent and hidden. I expected blinding flood lights and cables to trip over. This is the type of renovation I appreciate. No broken finger nails, stubbed toes, splinters, whacked thumbs, bruises, or abrasions of any kind. |
| Blog Prompt for Day 3 - In today's mystery blog challenge you'll write a detailed description of a MURDER scene. Da - Da - Daaaa You'll have a victim and a cast of suspects, including possible murder weapons, motive, etc. End your entry with this challenge to your readers. "It's up to you to solve this murder in a comment on my entry." Merit Badges will be awarded to the best MURDER scene and the best solution to the mystery. Nobody leave the building! Detective Salmon strode into a dim corridor eerily silent and free of crowds. A few weeks ago, he'd visited this same location with his family and they'd been buffeted along by a teeming throng humming with excitement. Thanks to Covid-19 this tourist attraction had been shuttered to the public. He shook his head. He thought it was a shame, but Ripley's Aquarium would be bustling soon enough. Not knowing what to expect he followed the seemingly endless walls of glass illuminated from within and showcasing millions of fish darting and floating in the clear water. This constant motion created rippling shadows reflected on the rubber flooring. As with most sudden death scenes, he knew when he'd found the spot. He suppressed a gasp and the involuntary shiver squeezing his spine. Nothing could prepare him for this. A man's bloated body bumped against the side of the immense tank nudged by rhythmic waves. Dressed in a grey uniform and red sneakers, the D.B. or Dead Body stared through sightless bulging eyes. He appeared to be swathed in a net that wound around his lower jaw and neck. The tips of his fingers were absent and his hands bloodied. Salmon spied several angry open wounds on the legs and arms still oozing red streams that formed a halo around the corpse. Peaking from the torn material were purplish welts. Something glimmered on the coral covered floor and the detective spied a pointed spear. It looked out of place amongst the vibrant reds, pinks, blues, and yellows. Tearing his gaze from the surreal scene, Salmon introduced himself to the young policeman standing guard. He appreciated that he'd not been inundated as soon as he'd arrived. He liked to soak up a crime scene undisturbed. "Hello Detective Salmon. I'm Officer Law, Marshall Law. I see you pursing your lips and tilting your head. That really is my name. Mom had a strange sense of humour." "What can you tell me about the deceased, Officer? Do we have an i.d.?" "Yes sir. This is Speckle Trout, a custodian here. According to the manager, who discovered the body this morning, Trout came by his nickname because he dabbled with stock speculation. He planned to make a killing from his portfolio." "What's the net worth?" "I dunno, maybe twenty dollars." "Huh? No, his net worth? Did someone get greedy? Where would a janitor get funds for investing? Could he have borrowed from a loan shark?" A shadow passed over their heads and both men looked up to see a sleek shark shimmy through the glass saltwater-filled arch joining two immense fish tanks. It lead a parade of rainbow-coloured fish, big and small. A giant black stingray loomed nearby. Glancing back to the body, the men noticed bobbing jellyfish, translucent and ribbon-legged. "Do you think the sea life killed him? Did he drown, or did a shark attack him? I believe I read somewhere that jellyfish sting. Could that be lethal? And what about that huge stingray? Didn't someone famous die from a bite?" "Sir, I believe that was Steve Irwin. " "Right, right so it was. Do we have any suspects?" "Well sir, I never considered the possibility of a loan shark, but yes I have a list of suspects. The manager is also the father of Trout's ex-girlfriend. They recently broke up and according to Dad, it was all Trout's doing. He explained away his leaving by saying there were more fish in the sea and he showed his ex a screenshot of his application to an online dating service, Plenty of Fish. So, she could be angry and seeking revenge. Maybe she and her father tag teamed this murder. The other custodian described Trout as a cold fish, acting all hoity-toity and stuff. He could've had enough. I think that's the list, sir." "Well Officer Law all we have is speculation at the moment. There appears to be four suspects and multiple murder weapons. There's not much more we can do here. We'll have more answers after the coroner fishes him out." It's up to you to solve this murder in a comment on my entry. |
| Day 2 Entries - 5 Day Mystery Challenge by Brother Nature (110) Bermuda Triangle Over the last 500 years, ships and airplanes have gone missing inside a triangular section of the North Atlantic Ocean called the Bermuda (or Devil's) Triangle. This mysterious area is bounded by the British Overseas Territory of Bermuda; Miami, Florida, U.S.; and the American territory of Puerto Rico. The earliest article to reference a disappearance was in The Miami Herald in 1950. However, the "Bermuda Triangle" itself was coined by Vincent Gaddis in a 1964 article. Since then, scientists and amateurs have floated various theories - from sea monsters to unidentified flying objects (UFOs) - but nobody has been successful in decoding the mystery. 5 DAY Andre the Blog Monkey's April Fools Mystery Writing Challenge Blog Prompt for Day 2 - I for one have always been interested in the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle. I like to ponder possible explanations for what it is. Think about it for a few moments, then share your possible (or improbable) explanation. If there is another mystery you'd rather share your thoughts on, that's okay too. Hmmm, when I hear the name Bermuda I think of shorts, sunshine and beaches. Oh, also the Beach Boys song immediately begins blaring on a loop in my brain. I suppose the moniker Bermuda Triangle is much easier to pronounce and spell that icosahedron or tetrahedron. But yes, what does happen to ships and airplanes in that geographical area? What fate befalls them? Is it at all conceivable that the Loch Ness monster summers in Bermuda? Could Moby Dick be alive and well patrolling this area? How big exactly is Big Foot and is he/she a strong swimmer? Perhaps a Cyclops incinerates various modes of transportation with a laser eye beam? Does an alien abscond with a life-size ship only to encase it in his/her glass bottle? Are they displayed in a case, or on a shelf somewhere in the cosmos? Could there be a rogue band of mermaids commandeering ships? Do the sailors fall prey to a mesmerizing siren song? Is there a cartel of sorts with those mermaids and pirates? Do they trade in illicit contraband in stolen ships? Do they maintain a secret lair in the Triangle? Maybe they dismantle ships and planes to sell off the salvage. Think of it as a tropical chop shop. It could be a gigantic octopus becomes irritated by ship and airplane traffic interfering with his/her tranquility. If you enjoyed a rather large infinity pool would you tolerate polluting machinery muddying the waters? Now, I'm envisioning Big Foot garbed in a pair of red Bermuda shorts relaxing in the summer retreat he fashioned from a purloined ship. He'd certainly have many decks to sun bathe on as he meditated. |
| Sat. April 11th Prompt. by Fivesixer (654) How are you finding community in these locked-down days? When the three of us, me, myself, and I step outside into the glorious sunshine, brisk invigorating fresh air, and vast wall-free spaces we seek out eye contact with those a hockey stick-length away. We nod. We smile. Perhaps we'll salute, or wave. Often an unspoken signal is exchanged and we stop our saunterings to share in a conversation. "Hey, how's it goin'?" "Oh, hi. Not bad, not bad, at all considerin'." "Ya, this virus thing is scary. Are we standin' six feet apart? Aint we supposed to be metric? I'm surprised no one has chalked off sections on the sidewalk." "Ah, we eyeballed it, close enough. Haha! Get it? We're close enough. Seriously, though, this aint natural. Lines are everywhere. It's like we're all in a herd, or in a cattle chute. Keep your distance, but line up." "Ya,I hear ya. It kinda feels odd. No one is breathin' down yer neck. I miss that. I tell ya what I don't miss, the shovin' and steppin' on the back of ma heels." "Have ya seen the masks? Lord love a duck! People are crazy. At Johnston's, I put a hand to my mouth to cover a snicker. I couldn't stop myself. Oh, everyone shot daggers at me for sure. But this fella had a shopping bag over his face. And his hands were wrapped in bags, too." "Well, I coulda sworn I saw a tea towel tied 'round some man's nose. I aint seen the bras yet, well, 'cept on the internet. My momma would roll over in her grave to see a grown ass man wearing a brassiere on his face." "Well, I guess I should be moseying along. Take care of yourself." "Ta for now. This'll all blow over soon." |
| How would eight year old you have reacted to being quarantined and kept out of school and society for so long? Let's recap. When I was eight, I was in the third grade and loving it. I was and still am the eldest of four. Wait, I must clarify this. At eight, my youngest sister hadn't yet joined us, so I was the eldest of three. I lived an entire town block from the school and my habit was to walk home for lunch every day. My best friend, Nancy lived across the street. My favourite haunts were all within walking or biking distance. Preston still is a small town and I felt safe exploring alone, or with my friends. Not attending school would be inconceivable! I liked homework and projects. I liked the camaraderie and the constant activity and noise. I enjoyed talking and laughing. School was my life! Wait a minute, where would I get books? The nearby library would be closed indefinitely. I'm hyper-ventilating considering that in the here and now. Today, I own a gazillion books, but back then I relied upon borrowing to satisfy my reading habit. No! Would the daily newspaper be delivered? Could I still read the comics? Blech! Mom reads sickly romances, lovey-dovey crap. Cell phones were a distant invention. Our home had one wall-mounted phone in the kitchen. Long distance calls were expensive and considered a treat. The local outdoor pool wouldn't be open yet anyway in late winter. When would it be open? Will summer still arrive? How will I survive the humidity without a visit every day to the pool? Television existed, but in a crude form, no surround sound, no huge screen, no remote control. Our home had one for the shared viewing pleasure of five people. Broadcasting reached it via an antenna from our roof. I'd describe the programming as limited and it ended every evening at 11:00 p.m. No late night binge-watching. There were Saturday morning cartoons though! You mean I could not visit Nancy, or have her visit me? Why not? Oh, I'd struggle with the unfairness of this, the ridiculousness of this. She lives right across the road. She doesn't have cooties, or a deadly virus. Yes, we'd wash our hands more if we had to, but wear a mask? I would stand on the curb and shout at her standing on the opposite curb. We'd tie notes to rocks and throw them at each other. We'd fly paper airplane messages. We'd kick a soccer ball back and forth. We'd ride our bikes up and down the street past each other's homes and wave. Groan! I suppose I'd take notice of my younger brother and sister if I had to, if I felt desperate, if no one else could play. They'd be good for some teasing and arguing. This guaranteed a reaction from Mom. Ack! I'd survive a quarantine, but I would not enjoy it! |
| 5 DAY Andre the Blog Monkey's April Fools Mystery Writing Challenge Blog Prompt for Day 1 - When mystery surrounds an object, that object then becomes a clue. Have you ever discovered a mysterious item, which became a clue to an investigation? Tell us about what you found and where the investigation led to. I found something rummaging around in my mother's jewellery box. A gold locket with fancy letters engraved on it caught my eye. I'd never seen Mom wearing it. Of course, being about ten years old, I carried it to her and asked questions. With a sigh, Mom revealed that the necklace had been a wedding gift from her mother, my Nanny. I traced the curlicue letters with one finger as she explained that that fancy writing had a name, calligraphy. Ooo, a new mouthful of a word. Studying the swirls, I could make out the letters 'CC' and I recognized her monogram, another new word. I knew my mother's name, the name other people used, Carol and my grandparents were The Cherskis, so this made sense to me. I accepted this. A few years later, now a teenager, I reexamined that pretty necklace with a new perspective. The two scrolled letters were not both a 'C.' The second one had an added flair to it rather like a 'G.' Could this be true? Was this an error? Our surname began with a 'B.' Again, I sought my Mom and pointed out this anomaly. This time, perhaps because she realized my 'mature' age, Mom admitted that this other letter was indeed a 'G.' She continued with a shocking revelation. She had never been a Cherski like her younger siblings. Nanny had been married to someone else before Grandpa and he'd been Mom's real father. Mom was a Gilham. This opened the flood gates to more questions. Was her birth father alive? Had she met him? Had I ever met him? Where did he live? Could we see him? Why didn't he visit? Mom answered that yes he was alive and no she'd never met him. He lived in the same province as we did, but it's a huge territory and the road trip involved a sixteen-hour drive. She felt it was too late to ever get to know him and she had her own family now. She also did not wish to offend her step-father. I couldn't comprehend this. I lived with both of my parents, and I loved my father, we were close. How could she not at least be curious? If it were me, I'd waste no time tracking him down and introducing myself. With further discussion, I learned that my grandmother had denied her first husband access to his firstborn. He'd sent letters, cards and gifts throughout my Mom's childhood and they'd been thrown away. Eventually, he'd stopped reaching out. I found this so tragic. Mom just shrugged and continued with her everyday life until one day her mother offered to accompany her to her birthplace and introduce her to her father. This opportunity came out of the blue and Mom jumped at this chance. She actually confessed to me that she felt nervous and excited. Anyway, Mom finally met her father and liked him. She described him as tall like her and easy to talk to. One meeting is all they had after years of separation. He died a few months later of cancer. I suppose this had always bothered me. Mom missed out on so much. She had what-ifs and if-onlys. Fast forward to many years in the future, during which time I'd bestowed three grandchildren upon my mother and I'd developed a thirst for family history. With my computer and internet connection, I established a family tree. My genealogy research caught the attention of a woman living across the country and she contacted me. She turned out to be my Mom's youngest paternal cousin and we kept up a correspondence. She informed me that she had four older siblings and the eldest remembered my Mom as a baby and had always wondered about her. She introduced me to them online and we wrote to each other. The eldest, Bill, would phone me and my Mom to chat. He lived across Canada on the eastern coast at a great distance from his brothers and sisters. Due to physical limitations my Mom could not fly and long car trips were painful. I did arrange for her to meet two of her cousins who lived about a five hour drive from our home. I drove her to this reunion and she chatted for hours with her newfound family. This trip took its toll on her, but she enjoyed it fully. Mom's health deteriorated and this trip was never repeated. The cousins were also seniors with limited funds and physical capacities. After her death, I managed to visit and meet the three remaining cousins. My search had come full circle. The beautiful letter 'G' had led me on a years' long adventure. |
| hurs. April 9th Prompt. by Fivesixer (654) What will you never take for granted again once we are no longer quarantined? I will never take the simple act of travelling where I want, when I want, and to visit anyone I wish for granted. I miss that freedom to just go whether that means a road trip, or a flight. I miss being in the same room with my family, all of them, immediate and extended. I miss that close contact. Being with a baby and bonding with them is much more fun when in close proximity. A baby doesn't respond to Facetime and phone chats with as much enthusiasm as her parents and grandparents. Coaxing to wave, smile, and say something at a screen doesn't always evoke a loving response. A baby is meant to be snuggled and social media cannot replace or replicate that. I will never take dining out in a restaurant with someone doing the cooking, the serving, the clearing up, and the clean-up for granted ever again. Oh what luxury it is to enjoy a meal you did not have to plan and execute. Dining 'out' caters to spontaneity. At the moment, I follow the take it or leave it menu. If me and myself behave, I may toast the bread for the peanut butter sandwiches. If we are all in agreement and harness the correct amount of enthusiasm, we may chop, dice, and saute something. Meh, we're not starving, but we're growing weary of our cooking. I will never take for granted the casual conversation on the street or in a shop with strangers. I will not miss shouting from a distance. I will not miss the face masks that conceal expressions and subtle nuances. I will never take for granted that I have a home, a shelter to safely self-isolate in. I may see the same four walls a bit too much lately, but at least it's home sweet home. My two room mates, me and myself, aren't all that bad. I can tolerate them. |
| Wed. April 8th Prompt. by Fivesixer (653) What is the most ridiculous thing about what's happening this month? This presumes that only one thing is the MOST ridiculous re COVID-19 and the measures taken to deal with it. There are many, too many to mention. This pandemic has raised the level of crazy and bizarre to a new level. I suppose if I had to choose one super ridiculous thing it would have to be the theory that this is nothing but a hoax. Despite daily reports to the contrary, some fools insist this virus and/or its severity is grossly over-exaggerated. They fail to recognize the virus' spread and its repercussions. They believe we're over-reacting. They either refuse or balk at self-isolation and self-distancing measures. They bray about their freedoms to say, do and go anywhere they wish. On a more humorous note, I cannot fathom the ridiculous anti-virus outfits people have created to 'protect' themselves. Really? Are certain individuals really venturing out in public swathed in plastic garbage bags and shopping bags? Why are some choosing to wrap their entire heads in plastic? Are these the idiots that do not read the warnings printed just for them? "Caution this product, ( a plastic shopping bag), may cause suffocation if placed over the face." I saw a picture of a woman shopping with a zippered plastic bag over her head and it flapped open near her mouth. This is the type of bag that quilts and sheet sets are packaged in. Why? And, oh, the handmade face masks are noteworthy for their uniqueness! If it is an actual photo, the woman brings ingenuity to an assinine level. She waits in a line with a cheap, cardboard birthday hat positioned over her nose and mouth. You know, the cone-shaped pointy hats. Any self-respecting virus would steer clear of that for sure. |
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Happy June! May was so fun!
