Tag: Writing

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups # 40

Posted on Posted in flash fiction, short story, WritingTagged , , , 55 Comments

This is my post for Julia’s 100 word challenge, with the prompt of ruby to mark the 40th week. Take a look over here http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2012/04/30/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week-40/ and maybe join in.

Pearl of Ruby?

I stretched myself awake and saw a carved ivory box on my pillow.

‘Oh no,’ said Leila, ‘They will come tonight then, but you are so young.’ I opened the box and my heart stopped.

‘A ruby.’ As big as an eye.

‘You must be valued highly; the old fool usually sends a pearl, as if that makes up for his stench.’

I was shaking as Leila opened the note.

‘But no . . . Prince Mustafa awaits you . . . the young handsome one is yours, a ruby your price’ she said running her pearls between her fingers.

My Hobbit is Suffering

Posted on Posted in Humour, Working world, WritingTagged , , , 24 Comments

For the last few days the hobbit has been arriving at the office looking increasingly wonky. Have you ever seen an ancient black and white movie starring Boris Karloff as the mummy? Well that’s how the hobbit was walking. Being a hobbit and inhabiting an entirely wrong world where no-one was free to cast a healing spell, he has been suffering, noisily. And enjoying the sympathetic attention of the pretty audit ladies, who were visiting the department. How has he acquired this painful condition? Well it could be, that not only does he spend his working days in front of a PC, but also because he has a portfolio of shares to manage, he hunches over his home PC until his head crashing onto the key board wakes him up. His eyes are as red as the mummy’s might have been, if the film above had been colour.

I don’t believe this is the real cause though, because on Friday I witnessed something strange. Hobbit cleaned his desk for the first time ever.

I don’t know if you remember that I told you about his car? How it’s interior looks and smells like it’s been dredged up from somewhere very unpleasant? Well, this leads me to believe that it’s the first time he has ever cleaned anything. It may have caused this irreparable damage to his neck and shoulder.

Hobbit has been asking the women to massage his pain away and one kind lady did help, not me of course! I sent him scuttling off to buy some anti inflammatory. Of course he couldn’t reach the site of the pain and asked for help to apply it. In an office with sixteen people, you can imagine the response.

Today he muttered about getting some professional help in the form of a chiropractor, but then talked himself back out of it because of the cost – all his money is tied up in shares. I remembered that our noble employer offers a free physio service and helped him to find the number. He stalled. ‘Go on call them, the sooner you do the sooner you’ll get sorted.’ ‘Not with everyone listening, I’ll do it later.’ I think he’s scared it might hurt. Or that it might be a dragon of a physio. Or that it might be a very attractive physio. He won’t go, he is happy in his suffering.

So why was he cleaning his desk? He has moved and someone new is sitting beside me. Hobbit is  8 feet behind me and I miss him and his Hobbity ways, and his socks.

100 Word Challenge Week 39

Posted on Posted in flash fiction, WritingTagged , , , 52 Comments

This week Julia’s challenge is to use the prompt ….I’m exhausted. Shut the door behind you…. So here is my attempt.

Caring

Right, your groceries are sorted, dishes washed. I’ve changed your bed and made up the spare room for your brother. The fish pie I made is in the fridge and a lemon meringue. I’ve refilled your medi-wallet too, okay?

The recycling bin is outside and the cats are fed. All the laundry is ironed and tomorrow’s shirt is hanging with those jeans I took up. I’ve booked you a test ride with motability and your wheelchair’s being serviced on Tuesday. Okay?

‘Where’s the remote? I can’t reach it.’

‘My sweets and beer?’

‘…. I’m exhausted; shut the door behind you….’

Shortlisted, me?

Posted on Posted in Creative writing, flash fiction, short storyTagged , , , , 45 Comments

Yes me! I submitted to South West Flash Fiction just for fun really and never dreamt that I would be short listed. National Flash Fiction day is on May 16th and Rachel http://rachelcarter.me an inspiring writer herself thought it would be a good idea to have a page to showcase the work of Westcountry writers.

So there I am and on the front page as well.

http://flashfictionsw.co.uk/ Do have a read, my story is Mystery Lady on The Train, written after I spotted an ad in the local newspaper.

Gypsy Meets a Red Hat Society Lady!

Posted on Posted in Craft, Fashion, WritingTagged , , , , , , , , , 34 Comments

Now, I know that at least two of my blogging friends are Red Hat Society ladies, you know who you are over in Oregon, but at the weekend I met a real live one myself. Carol, whose Hatter name is Countess Caroline, had a table displaying her gorgeous handmade fascinators, many of which she has created for mellow hatters (I just invented mellow because fellow sounded too masculine for Hatty ladies). Once Carol told me she was involved in this craziness I just had to learn more.

She began by telling me that they are all show offs! ‘You almost have to be’ she said, ‘and I’ve always been a showy off person myself’, I don’t know about that, but she is certainly a very attractive and outgoing lady who loves to chat. As well as the red hats they wear purple clothes when they meet up in their ‘Chapters’. Most of them are middlies but you can still join in your forties, then you are a Pinkie with lilac clothes and pink hats. At fifty you are invested with scarlet sparkles or a wand. Carol is one of the one hundred members of the Riviera Royals, whose leader is Princess Cockington.

When the ladies meet up they go on a ‘Hoot’, days out, concerts, shows and balls, and men are never allowed. Occasionally other chapters are invited to a soiree, to which they often travel using their bus passes, fully hatted and gowned. They have big conventions and she has been known to attend as a St Trinians girl.

During a ladies birthday month, they dress in reverse, red clothes and purple hats. There’s a whole world of red hatters out there with dedicated internet shopping sites. Some hatters have appeared on the Vanessa show, I would imagine Ms Feltz would be in her element.

            Carol told me that she went on her own to her very first meeting and that from the start she felt welcome. ‘I’ve found that women can be bitchy, but never felt that in the Red Hatters. I think it’s because of our age, there are no grudges, it’s a sisterhood. No one minds disgraceful behaviour. Even out for coffee we wear our hats. It’s supportive as well as fun, caring for each other through bereavement, watching out for each other’s well being and remembering little details.’

For last year’s Royal Wedding they celebrated at a lovely local restaurant. They watched together, all dressed to the nines waving flags, as if they were actually there. Carol has immaculately painted nails and not a hair out of place. Last year the chapter went to Ladies day at Ascot, what a sight they must have been, but as it was £3-400, this year they will be going to Newton Abbot. I have no doubt they will look wonderful.

            They have a ‘Mother of the Bride’ evening planned shortly. This will be held at the Grosvenor Hotel, Torquay, as featured on a recent Channel Four TV series. This will be a major event for which Carol will be making a sash to wear and the high heels will be out in force – manageable because it will be ‘Car to bar’.

Carol said ‘I can’t promote the Red Hatters enough, it’s given me a new lease of life and I wouldn’t be making fascinators without the society.’ She taught herself to make these exquisite little numbers. I tried one on and looked incredibly silly, but she has made lots for her chapter.

            Carol is a glamorous lady and even on holiday her style is maintained. She is ecstatic if she can sit in the sea, watching the sun glinting on her red glittery finger and toe nails. I am grateful to this fabulous lady for sharing her Red Hat experiences with me and maybe one day I might just join. Or not, because I’m too much of a scruff bag!

As well as the unnamed Oregon ladies, I’m sure there are more of you out there around the world, would you like to share some of the fun you have had? I would love to learn what you get up to around the globe!

A Cycle of Platforms and Hot Pants

Posted on Posted in Fashion, Humour, WritingTagged , , , , , , , 54 Comments

Browsing a few shops the other day my friend (also middle aged) and I had a lot of laughs at the clothes in the High Street fashion shops. Some of the things they would like young women to wear, are quite ridiculous, ghastly and even dangerous. I pulled tiny, bright yellow, jeans style shorts from the rack, held them against myself and decided that if I could somehow force them onto my plumptious rear, I would probably get arrested. I was told the next day that they are worn with thick black tights, uh so? They would still be ultra revealing. Again, from my old fogey perspective, I find it quite worrying to drive through the town on a Saturday night, and see girls, even in winter, in the skimpiest of garments, especially when they are far from sober. And then I remembered. I would have been sixteen, drop dead gorgeous and with a perfect figure, when I wore Hot Pants and walked down the town on a Saturday night, far from sober! I was never one for flashing the cleavage, but my  long, brown and sexy legs climbed high up to my very cropped denims. Actually my skirts were possibly worse than the Hot Pants, because they barely covered my assets and were definitely shorter than this.

We looked at shoes next; laughing at five inch platformed Betty Boo heels, that we would need scaffolding to be able to climb into, and crutches for three months if we attempted to walk in them. Some, like these are beautiful art, I’m tempted to buy some for posterity.

I asked a shopper if she wears anything like it and she said that yes, she does on a night out, and can keep them on comfortably for four to five hours. She was a sweetie, twenty-one and happy to have a laugh with us.  Apparently she usually wears them with skinny jeans, the mind boggles. I really hope she manages to keep staying vertical. And then I remembered. My five inch, sling back platformed shoes, shiny yellow patent and worn with those tiny skirts. I really wish I’d kept them or even had a photo . . . sighs. I wonder if the twenty –one year old will be looking at the fashion when she is middle aged,and laughing about it. In the 80’s, leggings were everywhere, they disappeared for a while but then lycra’d their way back to a whole new generation, who think they’re cool. But there’s nothing new under the sun is there? Are you old enough to remember wearing some of today’s so called hot trends? Do tell me!

Crazy Polish Woman has gone downstairs

Posted on Posted in Working world, WritingTagged , , , 20 Comments

Yes truly! Ooonika, not how you spell it but I’m trying to provoke a reaction, has upped sticks and left my office and now works in another department. I didn’t frighten her away. I know this because she has been back up at least six times today. She needed to clear her desk, complain, help solve someone’s problem, complain, ask a favour of me, complain about the smell of a heavy smoker down there. Complaining about not having a window any longer. I do, whoopee I can see the sky and the hills!

CPW likes to sing, the Polish equivalent of humming, a sort of dee dee dee sound, when she’s happy or bored or attention seeking. She won’t be able to do that down there in the serious dungeon of management accounts, and I have already missed the noise but luckily, I can hear it in my head. It’s strange when people move on, you miss them, but they are busy learning new jobs and fitting into a different environment with new people.

CPW has promised to help me to translate some dialogue I have to write into sensible Polish but she may be too important now 😦 I know she will keep visiting though because my office has the best and most regular supply of biscuits and naughty stuff. But she won’t be able to hang around long enough to indulge in the type of stimulating and  intellectual conversation we usually have, who will I talk to now? She has been great fun to work with. I’ll just have to look to the hills and hum a dee dee dee in my head, perhaps I’ll step into her shoes and become the Crazy English Woman. I have already slid under her desk to pinch her footrest, right what else has she left behind?

100 Word Challenge For Grown Ups # 37

Posted on Posted in flash fiction, Food, Humour, WritingTagged , , , , , , , , 23 Comments

Julia’s 100 WCGU this we at http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2012/04/02/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week-37/ says this:-

The prompt this week is to go back to last week’s entries. You are to use the last 10 words of the post next to yours and using just 100 words create a story. It may be a follow-on from the previous one or you may like to take it in a different direction.

I’m told that what I have written is quite a bit ‘Off in left field’  and that it will confirm my craziness but hey, I like to play! My section of prompt is ‘walked up to the table slowly, “what is going on?”, here it is.

Growing Table

The medical authority, are battling to control an obesity epidemic, but an abundance of sweets and biscuits covered the office table. There were back-from-a-Transylvanian-holiday treats, and dunkies provided by the plumptious boss. Fresh today, a stack of cakes, brownies and shortbread, courtesy of GT Porky and Co, auditors.

The scrawny dietician walked up to the table slowly, ‘What is going on here?’ ‘Not in my clinic, WE set an example.’ Behind her, the boss’s kilogramically challenged boss, with an epicurean feast of hot cross buns and Easter eggs, retreats, his face flaming, as she swept the booty into the bin.

Jaisalmer, Camel Safari at the Worlds End

Posted on Posted in Humour, India, Photography, Travel, WritingTagged , , , , , , , , , 28 Comments

Khuri is a little desert village with a hotel of whitewashed huts.

Khuri

We had cold drinks, and then went to meet our camels and make a decision, to camp in the desert, under the stars with a bed roll, or sleep in a hut with beds. We had several things to weigh up, what the food would be like – I don’t eat meat so didn’t fancy chicken, goat or camel roasted over an open fire! I’m joking of course, but no-one could tell me what the possibilities were. And what if pennies needed to be spent in the middle of the night? Let’s face it, there were no trees to hide behind. What swung it though was the possibility of scorpions. Who remembers a James bond film where one was climbing up 007’s chest? We chose to come back to the hotel.

Camel Saddles

It’s really quite difficult to get onto a camel, the saddles look good, well padded, but your legs are spread wide apart. Anyway, they are reluctantly in their lowest possible position, to enable you to climb on, then you have to time it just right and lean backwards, when they get up. That’s a very unnatural position, given that they sway as they do so. You soon get used to the motion; it’s a bit like a Space Hopper on legs. But then you go downhill, and not only do you need to lean backwards again, but also you have to squeeze tight with any muscles you can find in your thighs. So we were off into the dunes, to seek the sunset. That same still silence and heat that we experienced in Khuldera, something almost tangible, wrapped itself around us, lulling us into a state of euphoria and creating an inner glow, a bit like a meditation.

Unrepentant!

I could have been riding around for hours, travelling miles, or round in a figure of eight for ten minutes, because I had no sense of time or bearings. We reached a crest where a dozen people had already parked their humps and settled down to wait. This is where it went wrong. I dismounted and turned to where travelling friend was doing the same, just in time to see it get back up as she was getting off. Result – she fell, luckily there was no real damage but she was shocked and disorientated for a while and didn’t want to ride the pesky thing back.

We eased our hump shaped legs down onto the sand and waited while the sky became sky-blue-pink, it was beautiful but was like looking through a veil of micro fine sand. Travelling friend did ride back, very bravely. We couldn’t help thinking of what might have happened, of course it was hideous, scary and even embarrassing but thank heavens nothing was broken because Devon Air Ambulance was a tad out of range.

We were the only non Germans at the hotel, sitting around listening to some musicians, and dancing in the dark. We shocked Mr Singh again, with our capacity for Tiger, it comes in quite large bottles over there and well, it was very hot, even after the stars came out.

Excellent entertainment

Quite well lubricated, we headed for our hut. It was clean but very basic, with a loo in a cubby hole. Help came very quickly when I screamed. Spiders. Lots of very large spiders. We were laughed at but rescued. I insisted on checking under the beds for any that could be waiting for some fresh, juicy, English or American woman to feast on. The trouble was, checking when the light was one little dangling bulb, was pretty difficult. Attempting to push a bed aside, we found that it was a mattress, on planks that rested on piles of bricks! We didn’t find any more octopods, but didn’t sleep well either for worrying about them. The lesson – we would probably have fared better risking the scorpions.

I would highly recommend a camels safari, there’s nothing quite like the perspective you get aboard a foul breathed, bottom burping beastie with long eyelashes.

Don't I look the part?

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups Week #36

Posted on Posted in flash fiction, WritingTagged , , , , 29 Comments

This week Julia at http://jfb57.wordpress.com/ says,

‘Now for this week’s prompt. As you know I like to be topical so I’m thinking Easter. However, I’m thinking a little outside the box! The prompt is quite simple but the trick this week is to prepare for NEXT week!

I want you to write a piece with

….‘What was the rabbit late for,’ wondered Alice…..

in it. You have 100 words making a total of 108. However, the last 10 words are going to be used to start a piece by someone else next week!! Good eh! The idea isn’t mine – it came from Winchester House School‘

And so here are my 100+8 words plus some photos because I just happen to have them!

Alice knew she was named after THAT Alice and she hated it. Her mother would read it to her at bedtime, and she would drift away dreaming about Pippi Longstocking instead. If only she had been named Pippi, how adventurous she would have been! But no, she was dull Alice with beige hair, and her cousin’s old clothes.

And now, we’re reading it again, all through double English. And her form mistress was asking silly questions about Wonderland. What was the rabbit late for . . . wondered Alice. March Hatters, uh. . . mad hair? grinning cats? Oh no, Mrs Skinner is looking straight at me.