Blogging Insights #47- Ideal Conditions

We’ve been asked how we relate to the above quote.
I made a 44-year career out of caring for children in my home and, even now, my granddaughters frequently spend time here.
Most of my adult life has therefore not been interruption-free.
For a while, in my earliest blogging days, I got out of bed an hour and a half before the ‘gang’ arrived and wrote speedy pieces. Actually, that time limit fueled my interest in flash fiction which I accidentally found I had an aptitude for!
Since my husband retired, there’s no actual me-time or space. Yet, I’ve always been a spontaneous sort and my inclination to surround myself with children is proof of that.
I now pull out my laptop to my kitchen table randomly and race to run errands mid-post frequently. All the while, my mind mulls over the original inspiration and, quite often, inspires excellent new insights!
Zigging and zagging all day comes naturally to me. LOL
I set no schedule nor limits for myself making my writing endeavors a treat not any sort of chore.
My goal of one day writing a book will be subject to life’s plan. If I were to stress over it, then all the other things that I do would suffer. I am more than a writer.
With this attitude I’ll probably never be a Stephen King, but I’m happy, useful, and thankful for all of my opportunities. The rest of my life will write itself, I guess. 😉

Six Sentence Story- Nosy Neighbor

PROMPT WORD:  SHIFT

See the source image


Mildred was about to turn eighty, was recently widowed, and had started a rather lengthy ‘bucket list’ with number eleven written in bold letters: 11. “Tell Lydia exactly what I think of her!”.

Lydia had been Mildred’s widowed neighbor for twenty-five years and a major ‘pain in the ass’ as she was always complaining about how Mildred, and her husband, should live but Mildred’s husband had a philosophy of not ‘making waves’ so Mildred had refrained from any confrontation.

Two of Lydia’s many complaints were requests that they’d barbeque on the other side of their house because of the smell and smoke damage to her drapes AND that they should mow their adjoining lawns on Tuesdays and Saturdays, as she did, to keep the neighborhood looking neat!

Even as Mildred reminded herself of Lydia’s persistent nosiness her fists clenched… “Of all the nerve!”.

As luck, or divine intervention, would have it on the very morning when Mildred had decided to confront Lydia and clear the air ‘once and for all’, she happened upon a newspaper article about teaching ‘difficult kids’ that caused a dramatic shift in her attitude.

It stated, ” The kids who need the most love and understanding often ask for it in the most unlovable ways.”, and Mildred supposed that adults were no different, so, she decided to invite Lydia over for a cocktail -low and behold- instead of serving a long planned ‘tongue lashing’, Mildred made a new friend.



Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (wordpress.com)
It’s Six Sentence Story Thursday Link Up! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (wordpress.com)

Not the same old feelings…

Hosta
Hosta (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Funny how our minds work. Just a photo of a hosta plant in another blog got me thinking. Yikes!

Here goes:

When I was a kid, we were very fortunate to have a family cottage on a lake. Along the side of the cottage was a patch of hosta plants. They grew every year even when mowed down to make a better path. I thought that they were homely, good for nothing, weeds. I’d trip over them while playing twilight games of hide-n-seek. But…there they grew with a tenacity that I could not appreciate in childhood.

I now have my own piece of outdoor heaven in a wooded area. There were barren, shady spots where nothing would grow. I discovered hostas in a new light. Their name even “put me off”. I had already decided, years ago, that I did not like hostas. At the local greenhouse, there was a larger variety of them than I had ever realized.

The happy ending is a lovely, much appreciated shady garden. Hosta does not mean the same to me now, although I can “drum up” a shudder, still, when reminiscing.

If I were to return to life as a plant, I think I would like to be a hosta. Rather plain…shade loving… and tenacious.