Heather kept an organized home. Next to “neat as a pin” in a Google search was (see Heather). One could stop by any hour of the day, and they’d be treated to a pristine environment. Little did anyone know that Heather’s cleaning took place in the middle of the earliest hours of the morning. Her inability to sleep, as well as her need to have ‘perfect order’, was because her life was filled with debris. Poor decisions, Pop culture interests, and a lack of Faith, kept her scrubbing and cleaning to no avail.
If you are a regular at our pub, you know the drill. For those new to Q, write a verse of exact 44 words (excluding the title) using pepper or any form of the word like peppering, peppered or peppermint.
Salt and pepper on your food, Should be applied according to taste. To presume regularity totally rude. Salt and pepper on your food. A restaurant argument once ensued, All civility abruptly erased! Salt and pepper on your food, Should be applied according to taste.
If money was no object, what would be your ideal holiday?
We don’t vacation in the ‘normal’ sense. It isn’t about money, it’s about time. We bought 30 acres of land about 35 minutes from home when our kids were little. The way we had vacationed before that wasn’t for us. Packing, planning, and leaving pets behind made our getaways stressful and costly when investing in our little ‘spot’ in the woods gave us a year-round option. Setting up our place, making gardens, and having trails for riding 4-wheelers made us happier than going somewhere we didn’t know. So, now we spend ‘happy time’ at our own somewhat remote spot including family and extremely happy dogs who roam freely as dogs were meant to do. The taxes and upkeep aren’t any more than a cruise or flight somewhere (probably cheaper these days) and we’re close enough to home for unforeseen needs, yet we can take ourselves out of the madness of daily living any time we wish.
Do you save for a holiday or put it on plastic to pay off later?
Our ‘camping’ is budgeted into our lives. It’s as necessary to us as groceries, healthcare, or hobbies.
Have you ever been on a cruise?
Have not the slightest interest in packing into a contained space with a bunch of strangers.
Do you send postcards or buy mementos?
Our mementos are family memories of games, wonderful food cooked outdoors, campfires, conversations and privacy, rest, and a few fossil rocks or wild fruits.
Gratitude: Connecting with our granddaughters often enough to really know them while we get a chance to share our values as a family. I couldn’t wish for more.
A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. It is similar to the Kyrielle and the Retourne. It has a refrain that is in a different place in each quatrain. The first line of stanza one is the second line of stanza two, third line of stanza three, and fourth line of stanza four.
Manhood belongs not to the meek. All honor is won at a cost. A reticent life unworthy. All you value easily lost.
I was once unsure just like you. Manhood belongs not to the meek. So, stand tall when facing this world. Cowards never find what they seek.
My hands are broken, my back is bent, And my job is most nearly done. Manhood belongs not to the meek. Time to fight your battles, my son.
Those gentle eyes and chiseled chin, Are signs that you’ll reach your own peak. Kind men guard the common ‘good’, ‘Cuz, Manhood belongs not to the meek.
The rules are: Maximum of 250 words. Based on photo prompt above. That’s it.
There he was, still an hour or so, from home at the mouth of the fjord!
It had been a long, long, time-too long. Her heart raced with excitement as her eyebrows drew into a scowl. Was she happy or angry? God made men with a purpose. He gave them talents and proposed that they make a mark on the world. Why weren’t children and family enough? The science, art, and exploration, however grand and celebrated, did nothing for the rearing of children and warming her bed.
He’d be awkward in the doorway…a stranger. Then, he’d settle in offering exotic gifts and wild adventurous tales to the boys as they danced vying for his long-awaited attention. It would take a few days for the ordinary to set in. The sense of safety and completeness that was only to be shattered in a few months by his new driving focus that didn’t include any of them.
She was tired of waiting for his ‘purposes‘ to dry up and his body to lose its untiring fitness. Their house was in need of long overdue repair. Keeping him home, where he belonged, would require an accident.
Let’s see how you choose to open and decode this message 🙂
Marj was in a dark dilemma. She’d done so much crying that her eyes were nearly swollen shut. What would she tell her parents when they returned from their overseas trip in ten days?! He was 7 years older than she at 24, and her “first”, but he’d romanced her in a way that made her feel completely safe and valued. What a naive child she was! Now, that was all a tortuous month ago and he had since vanished. The early pregnancy test had come back positive this morning and she now found herself rummaging in the attic for luggage to run away… or something else. Another rush of panic made her fall to her knees praying to God for direction and it was then she spied the envelope between the rafters. It was stiff-almost crispy- and it was sealed with wax like was done in the ‘olden days’. When she turned it over, the three bold words on the other side made her audibly gasp.
FOR MARJORIE ONLY
The letter must have belonged to her great-grandmother whose name she had always worn proudly. Marj had heard that she had raised her grandmother all on her own after a “tragic accident” of some kind had claimed her first husband. Later on, when Grandma was 10, she’d married Grandma’s stepdad -the man she knew as Grandpa-and had twin sons.
Marj waivered a bit then opened the note:
My Dear Marjorie, It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I did love you! Never forget that. We were impulsive kids full of lust and got carried off in a few passionate moments. Now I hear you’re “in trouble”. I know a doctor in Memphis who deals with unmarried girls who are “in the family way” and sets things right. I’ll help you pay for travel, if you wish. Do what’s right.
As Ever, Roger
“Great-grandmother Marjorie had never opened this letter. She probably knew what it was going to ask her to do. And I’m here because she chose not to do it. I hear you, God!.”
Marj placed the letter back, a little more carefully hidden, between the floorboards. Straightened her posture and went back to her room to look online for a job, and possibly later on, research ‘baby names’.
Since so many other online writers have blogs dedicated to their writings, I’ve decided to jump onto the bandwagon. All posts published here will be either fiction or poetry, some new, and some previously published on various places on the Internet. Some of my works are conventional, and some are quirky. All fiction posted here, except for fan fiction, will include the letters "rose" somewhere, as a tribute to my Baba.