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 |   The simplicity of my day to day. |
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This is where I write my thoughts, feelings and my daily trials, tribulations and happy things
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| I remember this event very well, although it didn’t affect me personally. We had emigrated to Perth Western Australia and been living here for two years. Cyclones were a foreign concept to us. We awoke on Christmas Day to the news that a city called Darwin had almost been wiped off the map. It was hard to imagine a weather event could cause so much damage and heartache. Events of December 1974 The northern Australian city of Darwin was devastated early on Christmas morning 1974 when hit by the tropical weather depression that was given the name Cyclone Tracy. As the eye of the cyclone passed over the city between midnight and 7am on Christmas morning, torrential rain fell and the winds were officially recorded at 217 kilometres per hour prior to the Bureau of Meteorology anemometer being destroyed. Houses and other buildings disintegrated under the onslaught, accompanied by the sounds of flying debris and breaking glass. Records have identified 66 names of individuals who perished as a result of the cyclone (53 on land and 13 at sea), and many more were injured. Seventy per cent of Darwin’s homes were destroyed or suffered severe damage, and all public services – communications, power, water and sewerage – were severed. There was a song written about the event. https://youtu.be/UsQfeROpd5c?si=hBGzLvikDP9J-HIf  |
| Prompt: Write a story about a turkey. A tiny speck of daylight caused Trevor to stop his sudden obsession with pecking. He crouched back down into the darkness and calmed his panicked breathing and waited. Nothing bad happened. With one eye open he dared to peek. The bright light was still there, the same light, the same size, nothing frightening. Another tentative peck and the light increased. Trevor was no longer scared and pecked some more. Soon his head was in the light, and suddenly felt a sense of achievement and knew this was his destiny. Freedom. A few weeks after his birth, Trevor and his brothers and sisters were loving their world and their new plumage began to grow, covering the mottled brown and white fluff they’d been born with. He found the new feathers quite itchy at first, felt a little gawky, uncomfortable and gauche. He discussed these feelings with his siblings and found he wasn’t alone in that respect. His mother explained it was a natural progression and that soon he’d be a fully fledged, adult turkey. But soon he realised his family were beginning to avoid him, they told him he was different, there was something wrong with him. His new feathers were blue! Spurned by the flock he despised his blue feathers, he was different. All he wanted was to fit in, be the same. Trevor was a sad, lonely turkey. The days were long, no one wanted to be near him in case they caught the blue disease. But things took a turn for the better for Trevor. The man who fed them each day began to bring other human people to visit his turkey world. They stared and laughed and pointed at Trevor. At first this made him feel even worse about his difference and wanted to hide from their gaze. However the other turkeys realised they had a celebrity on their hands and that there were benefits. The visiting onlookers brought extra food for all when visiting their famous brother. Trevor was a celebratory, his picture was in all the papers. He was washed and cleaned, his claws painted blue to match his glorious plumage. The others felt drab in their ordinary feathers and complained. But Trevor forgave them their cruelty towards him. Eventually he fell in love with a turkey called Tessa. Tessa and Trevor watched breathlessly over their first clutch of eggs as the first crack appeared. Tessa hoped at least one of them would be as blue as their father. |
Prompt: I'm looking forward to December because. I'm not looking forward to December because… I’m not looking forward to December because it heralds the beginning of a long, hot Australian summer. Although I’ve lived here since 1972 I still despise hot weather. November this year has been kind and the Jacarandas are in full bloom, their purple flowers make a carpet underneath the canopies. High twenties centigrade is my comfort zone and anything in the thirties is uncomfortable. As for forty plus! That’s bordering on madness. I’m looking forward to December because it’s the last month of this year of poor health for both my husband and I. We’re looking forward to 2025 being a year of no doctor’s appointments. Also December means I’ll spend quality time with my family. |
| Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2396--November 25, 2024 “When I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around.” Willie Nelson In what ways can we count our blessings and feel thankful? Sometimes it’s a hard thing to see what you’ve got and only be concerned by what you’ve not. We can become so involved in our troubles and worries we think we’re the only one and everyone else is doing so well. Social media has a much to answer for. We log on to see our friends and family members having what appears to be a wonderful life; great kids, no money problems, nice house/car/clothes etc. Yet it is simply a veneer, everyone has troubles, it’s inevitable. Money doesn’t always guarantee success and happiness. Millionaires can still be miserable and unhappy. They still get sick. Imagine sitting around a dining table with a group of others and each person put their troubles/problems in the centre and you could swap your troubles for one of theirs, I guarantee you’d quickly grab your own back. So take a moment and count your blessings. |
21st November. Have fun with these nine words: muscle, watch, wardrobe, energy, strike, exception, consciousness, point, and incentive. It’s been a week of recovery of both mind and body. Each and every muscle without exception decided to let me know where it is situated and complained about the harsh treatment it received. My energy levels reached rock bottom, and I had no incentive to do much of anything, and more to the point my muse deserted me in my time of need. Luckily when I tripped over my dog and hit my chin and throat on the vacuum cleaner, I didn’t lose consciousness. The strike caused me to receive a skin tear on my upper chest for which I’m still receiving medical treatment. My husband is always reminding me to watch out for Lucy, who at aged 12 decides to lie down anywhere to sleep these days. She certainly moved very quickly after I came crashing down and yelled for John to come and help. I wasn’t looking in any fit state to go anywhere, and John had to get something for me to wear from my wardrobe and assist me to dress before I could get my arm X-rayed at the hospital. |
Prompt: Trust What kinds of actions or signs make you believe someone is trustworthy? And if trust is broken, how can it be rebuilt? Oh, my goodness, we live in a time in history when trust has been dealt a death sentence. The internet is to blame. We can no longer believe what we see and what we hear. We need to be constantly on guard from those who are out to trick, scam and steal from us. We no longer answer phone calls from numbers we don’t recognise, and even if we see a message or email from what appears to be a trusted source, such as the bank, we need to verify its validity. So how can we trust? Who can we trust? Only those close to us. I have just a couple of good friends who I trust. If they ever betrayed that trust I would be devastated. My children and my husband of course are the only other ones. I can’t see society ever returning to that time when a handshake meant something, when you could believe the news on the television, radio and newspapers. It’s all fake news as one Mr Trump often spouts. Photographs are photoshopped, Artificial Intelligence can now make it appear as if people are saying and doing things they never did. So when you can’t trust your eyes and ears what can you trust? Even our children are being lured on line by people who strike up conversations, pretending to be a child of the same age. They gain their trust and then abuse it. How sickening is it to have to sit your child down to explain they need to be on guard from predators, that they can only trust their families? Politicians are certainly not trustworthy, they’ll say anything to get votes and then disregard all their election promises. We are being forced to be a world of cynics. It’s a world I’m beginning to dislike. |
| Gratitude Is gratitude is important for our well-being and do you think gratitude could relate to love? If so, in what ways? I think gratitude could easily be mistaken for love. There are so many different kinds of love aren’t there? Romantic love, a parental love and friendship love. If the case arose when someone was dependent on a career for their everyday personal care, It wouldn’t be hard to imagine that carer would become important. Then it wouldn’t be hard to imagine a gratitude which could be viewed as love. There have been many cases when a client has been taken advantage of because they’re under the misapprehension their gratitude is love. It’s common for patients to become so attached to their doctors and nurses, they truly believe they love them and would do anything for them, yet it is gratitude which is the overwhelming emotion not love. Gratitude is an important emotion to experience and to express. It is a kind of love as it generates the same feel-good hormones and yet it’s different and it’s good to know the difference. |
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How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.” -John Burroughs Let this quote about aging inspire your entry today. I’ve found myself commenting on the ravages of old age lately. I suppose that’s only natural as one sees those same aging affects each day in the bathroom mirror. It saddens me though to see the movie and music idols of my youth, those stunning women and strong handsome men, now just fragile, unrecognisable images of their former selves. With age comes wisdom, though in the imparting of that wisdom those younger ones in our lives take it with a pinch of salt. They’re probably too kind to say what they’re actually thinking, wondering how we could possibly know what they’re going through. So what, if anything, can be good about aging? Yes, leaves grow old beautifully as the quote suggests, but can it be said of humans? The cosmetic and beauty industries make millions out of our insecurities selling the idea that age can be beaten or delayed. I admire people who are so comfortable in their skin as to not give a hoot about how they look, although many, men in particular, take that to the extreme. I often sit having a coffee at a cafe and people watch. The thought that mostly passes through my mind as I watch the vast variety of people, is that we all started life with the perfect body, a flawless canvas with which to do with as we choose. Yet many of us abuse it throughout our lives. So if there is beauty to be found in the aging leaf, where can it be found in human beings? Maybe it’s the beauty of spirit many older people develop in later years. Lines, wrinkles and sagging flesh have been portrayed by artists throughout history as having a kind of beauty. Life drawing classes prefer the fuller figure, giving the artist more interesting contours to draw than the flat stomached counterparts. Although having said that a flat stomach is one I’d willingly swap my roundness for. I personally wouldn’t mind all the outward crumbling of my body if I could retain the energy and suppleness of youth, with no pain. With age comes pain and that’s what I find the worst part. Up to being aged 75 I thought I’d cracked this growing old stuff. I could walk, climb hills, hop from rock to rock over streams without even thinking I might slip and fall. In five years I’ve lost so much mobility I see myself as a different person altogether. So I’m finding it difficult to see the beauty in old age although when I began to write this blog I thought I would discover something positive I could say. Having said that I really ought to end on a positive note and to find some light in the darkness. 🤔 Okay! I’ve developed an even sharper sense of humour than I already possessed all my life. I’ve come to the realisation that life is a joke. I’ve worried and had sleepless nights over all the sad and difficult times throughout my life and things either got better or worse but it had nothing to do with my worrying. Things happen, nothing stays the same and problems get resolved one way or another. And at the end of the day, life is short, and after I’m gone it will carry on without me. I’ve learned to accept and there has to be a sort of beauty in that. |
Prompt: Taking risks What is better, staying safe or taking a risk? Did you ever have to make such a choice and would you do it again? Life is all about risk. I was very risk averse until I was in my mid twenties. It was about that time we took the biggest risk in my life by taking our three years old daughter and leaving everything behind. We came to Australia, a place where we knew no one or even anything about the place. We risked everything to find a better life. On a much smaller scale, I’ve risked abseiling when everything in my body was screaming at me not to walk backwards off that cliff! I’ve scuba dived in shark infested waters, been less than a few feet from a jumping crocodile and probably the most scary thing of all was to join a writers group at aged 75 and read out loud something I’d written. |
Day 3656 November 7, 2024 We're all going to pass at some point in time, which piece of your own writing would you like to be remembered by/with. If not a piece of writing what other remembrance would you choose? Ha, great prompt, to which I have no answers. My Portfolio currently stands at 541 items. Each entry is one I must have thought was worthy at the time of entering, but selecting one particular piece would be too big an ask. As a whole, I may be convinced to believe, the portfolio itself is proof of what I’ve been doing for all these years, and wouldn’t mind being remembered for. Each time I receive a review for a story I might have written some years before, I cringe when I spot glaring errors or in spelling or grammar. So as I would no longer be here when my portfolio is being read I’m not about to spend weeks going through each item and editing to spare my embarrassment.😩 |
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