This week’s wordle is dedicated to everyone who visits people in nursing homes. Whether it be for religion, sharing information, or just to listen. Your deed has not been ignored. Visit Create the Good to learn more about volunteering with seniors.
For anyone expecting a brilliant blog, you’re going to have to wait. I’m working on some things, but when I saw The Daily Prompt’s prompt for today I had to write something. They’re asking us to blog about some of the more meaningful hand-me-downs that we’ve gotten.
There’s a lot of hand-me-downs that I’ve gotten through out my life. Clothes, bags, toys. You name it, I’ve probably received it. My grandmother used to send us used clothes or pocketbooks and tuck folded up bills or small checks into the pockets.
I think my favorite hand-me-downs is the postcard collection that I received from my mother. It wasn’t just her cards, but also cards that had been given to her by other family members. I can’t even read some of them because of different languages. Postcard collections are more than just cool pictures. They are cool pictures with a family story to go with them. It’s a little like sitting down with an elderly family member and their photo albums. You can see the pictures of where they went and the message on the cards gives you a little bit about what was going on when they sent it. You get a bit of the story even when the participants are gone.
It’s one of many reasons why I started messing around with Post Crossing. You send out post cards to random people across the world and the website enters you into a log to receive a random postcard back. I’ve received post cards from places I had never heard of before. It gives you a chance to learn a little bit about other cultures, other people, and sometimes even a little bit about the language.
People rarely take the time to send postal mail these days. When was the last time you sent or received a post card? Or even a letter?
With the loss of a single day of your life every time you use it, would you use a power to predict the future?
I’m not altogether certain I would. It would definitely be tempting to take a peek at lottery numbers, but would that really make my life any better? When I think about it, probably not. Sure, I would have a grand time spending it on other people and trying to set up trust funds and scholarships and such. But society as it is these days, too many people believe in taking what they get from others instead of working for what they need. By winning said lottery, not only would I be taking the easy route, I would be leading others into the temptation of the same. Perhaps that’s why God still hasn’t allowed me to win the lottery. That’s what I’d like to believe anyway.
Of course we could always use said power to see how our relationships would work out before getting into one. That would sure be handy. But would it be fair to cheat my future spouse out of even a single day together? And sometimes we’re put into another’s lives to teach them or to be taught something. If we look back, many times it is more our bad relationships that teach us how to treat someone properly. Even a bad example, can show us a good path.
All considered, I think I’d prefer to put my future in God’s hands. At least he wouldn’t lose days of life afterwards. 🙂
Today’s daily prompt is putting us in the place of the casting director of our favorite television show or movie. But the catch is that we have to replace the entire cast with our family and friends.
Oh dear. My favorite show is Doctor Who and I can’t think of a single person who would be a good personality fit for the Doctor. Sure, his personality changes a little every time he regenerates but there’s still a quality to him that doesn’t. It’s that essence of fun, danger, excitement, and adventure all rolled up into a human shaped burrito. I’ve lead such a sheltered life that I can’t think of a single person who I could picture grabbing my hand and saying “Run!” The closest I can think of would be the oldest daughter of my friend, John (who I also think of as a friend). She’s an avid Doctor Who fan and with a little encouragement out of her shell I can picture her in his place. Besides, it’s about time the doctor regenerated into a woman.
I’d cast myself as the Doctor’s companion, but that would be a little bit unfair as the casting director. My oldest sister would be the Doctor’s companion because whenever there’s a natural disaster, car crash, house fire, or other sorts of emergencies nearby she always wants to go look at it. She says that she wants to help. but I think it’s primarily wanting to see the disaster itself. I can still remember after hurricane Hugo came through South Carolina, she was always wanting to go look at the damage, especially out by the beaches.
Captain Jack, if he were to ever come back to the show, could be any one of the guys at the McDonalds that I work at. One in particular, a guy we’ll call Harry, would be perfect. He’s a fun guy, definitely appreciates the ladies but is more than ready to step up when needed to help right a wrong. I can’t see him equally flirting with the opposite sex though. Or the aliens. I’m pretty sure he would try for the show though.
The Master, again if he were still in the show, would have to be my second sister. She always likes to think about perfect crimes and ways around the rules, even though she doesn’t believe in breaking those rules herself.
Who would you cast in your favorite shows? Leave your links to your responses to the writing prompt if you attempt it.
It’s that wonderful, brilliant time of year again. The South is notorious for it, but I’m sure we’re not the only ones. Labor day is over. It’s fall again.
In the coming weeks, there will be mornings that start out cool enough to need to wear jackets. It’ll be delightful until the temperatures skyrocket halfway to lunch time and we’re sweltering in those warm clothes. In childhood, it meant lost jackets and sweaters. If you’re anything like me, it’s much the same as an adult. I can’t tell you how many times that I’ll be getting ready to head out, feel the chill in the air, and step back in to grab my jacket. But do I see it? Of course not. It’ll be a few minutes, but I’ll realize that once again my jacket has been left behind in the car. And when you’re young it’s usually one of those not quite plastic coats that are ten times colder and seem to take forever to warm up to body temperature. And during the Southern Fall that’s usually about the time to take it off.
Of course we’re not there yet. It’s still hot as anything outside. Which begs the mention of the other great Southern Fall disagreement. White after Labor Day. Some say it’s an etiquette detail and nothing more. Others say that it’s just because of the weather and thusly to be ignored thanks to the strange Southern Fall. After doing my homework I found the truth behind it even more bizarrely annoying. According to an article on the White Rule in Mental Floss magazine (a greatly diverse magazine that always has something in it that you never knew that you didn’t know) the background of the White Rule was less about the weather and more about money. Apparently, it was part of a list of etiquette rules created sometime in the 1800s to primarily let old money know if they were dealing with new money or old money.
That being said, we’re getting to my favorite part of fall. My favorite yearly writing competitions and challenges all happen at this time of the year. And on top of that, my favorite writing clothes have always been sweat pants and sweat shirts. Good comfort clothing. Is it possible to wear during summer and the first part of fall? Of course not.
But that time is coming. My time is coming.
What is your beef with fall? Comment to commiserate or say a few words in support of fall.
Blind shock. Dragons. In South Carolina. Fort Knox maybe. The gold was held there. Perhaps even to the west where the other gold mines were.
But South Carolina?
It seemed too ridiculous to consider. South Carolina was a poor, but proud state. Not in debt, but not rich. Not thickly populated with big cities, but a coast densely populated with tourists.
People were too much in shock to panic. Although the satellite news programs were already starting to report on rising waves of panicking citizens. All the practicing for hurricane evacuations was left behind as people flooded from the big cities.
The country people were much more practiced at this sort of thing. Shotguns and rifles were brought out and cleaned. Cocky rednecks boasted on how they would be the ones to bring the big monster down.
Meanwhile the small group of citizens that had prepared for this eventuality for so long gathered together in old metal armor. And still others began protesting the killing of such an endangered species.
Talks begin in the government to decide if the dragon is real and what it’s legal status is. Focus groups are started. Groups are lobbying in Washington. The President is taken into hiding.
Meanwhile the Unicorns breath a sigh of relief. At least it’s not us.
“You want me to do what?” Johnny just stared at his boss in shock. He had sworn never to do that again. Not after the last time.
“It’s simple, just go with the man. He likes fishing. You like fishing. It’s perfect!” Johnny instantly decided that his boss was fully and truly insane.
“I do not like fishing. I used to like fishing. There’s a big difference.” Johnny crossed his arms and tried to stare down his boss, but to no avail. The man had been clearly taken with the idea.
“You just had one bad experience. That couldn’t possibly happen again. I mean really, loosing your cell phone off the side of a bridge at night? And your companion just leaving you in the lurch like that? That’s just ridiculous.” Johnny frowned, but didn’t say anything. How could he when he hadn’t told the true story the first time around?
“Still,” he started, not quite willing to give up on hope of getting out of the situation. “Surely someone else can do it.”
“You’re the only one without plans or with ability. Besides…” The man paused and glanced around furtively. “I heard that there might be an opening in the executive offices. It would look good for you and I’d be happy to recommend you.” Johnny groaned. He’d been trying to get out of the ground floor of the complex for ages, but would it be worth the cost?
“If it helps I’ll even drop by before dark to check up on you. My daughter’s science fair should be over by then.”
“Fine,” Johnny muttered darkly. His boss clapped him on the shoulder happily.
“Great! I’ll set things up and call you this evening with the arrangements. I’ve been told he’s a really great guy. A real story teller.” The man turned and made his way to his plush office, leaving Johnny to head back to his own cubicle alone.
“So he suckered you, did he?”
Johnny looked over the cubicle maze to see one of his few friends, Melinda smirking at him.
“I don’t want to do it, but he made a convincing argument,” Johnny tried to explain. He tried to keep his fear and doubt show.
“I bet he did. The exec is supposed to be a hard core fisherman. One of the long term guys in accounting said that he once caught a fish with his bare hands.” Johnny frowned at Melinda. He know that it was perfectly possible to do so, even though he had never had the patience to try. But to someone who had never fished, it would be extremely impressive.
“I heard that he once used a magnet to catch a fish that had stolen his bait, hook and all,” cut in one of the other guys in the office. Johnny rolled his eyes. Most hooks weren’t even attracted to magnets. It created the right affect as Melinda and a couple others gasped.
“I’m sure that’s just a blown up story,” Johnny insisted as he slid into his own cubicle. He wasn’t worried about the executive so much, but he did know that he would have more than the usual fishing equipment in his tackle box. Especially a flashlight. He barely suppressed a shudder as he began his task of shuffling through pages and pages of program error codes.
He was just beginning to drift into a daydream of his future office upstairs when the mail cart attendant tossed a letter on his desk. He frowned. No one ever wrote him at work. Not even customers. He fingered the fine envelope and turned it over to look for the return address.
He dropped the envelope in shock.
It couldn’t be.
The sender was Anna Belle Martin with a return address at her country estate.
Anna Belle had died at the river during his last fishing expedition.