Frizzy flaming hair and crimson globed noses present a visual cacophony that trips and cavorts into the ring. A bogus water pail trick elicits the audiences shrieking laughter. Circus; a big top stage.
This weekend’s Trifextra challenge we were given three words and asked to give back another thirty, making a grand total of thirty-three words. The words are:
ring
water
stage
Trifecta: Trifextra-Week 77
And Edward saw then that it was not a locket at all. It was a watch, a pocket watch.
It was his watch.
“Edward?” she said again, certain this time.
Yes, said Edward, yes, yes, yes.
It’s me.
Trifecta’s Trifextra Week Fifty-Four Writing Challenge issued a challenge this weekend to “scour through your favorite pieces of literature and give us the best 33 words you can find.” Well this is quite a challenge, daunting in fact. I had to cheat a bit to get the 33 words. The crossed out words are those additional descriptive words that don’t take away the context of the quote. Without them, the quote is exactly 33 words.
The children’s book, “The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane” is an amazing story with adventure and an overall theme of persistence and fighting to get back to the ones you love. I love the story and there are so many great bits, but honestly, the end had me blubbering like an idiot and illustrate the reward for a truly miraculous journey.
Shades of happy pink are abundantly splashed; purple jealously accepts next best. Angry and worn, white subdues black and navy’s careless invasion. Optimistic yellow’s smile shines brightly while gray mourns, ignored and avoided.
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Linking this up with Trifextra Week 52 where they asked for a 33 word example of personification. I looked around the room and saw the box of crayons used by my granddaughters to happily and obsessively create drawings and color in coloring books. Many emotions spill forth when she is coloring. The perfect object to personify.
Trifextra Week 52
I missed another Blog Birthday. Must come with my dread of counting my own.
Here is the post that began it all. A little piece I wrote about my sweet daughter Blossom.
Happy Belated Birthday to Day In and Day Out, er, me, well US!
Blossom is playing basketball this year and it’s her first time playing sports. I watch her with pride and a lot of empathy for the apprehension she has of it being the first time. It’s another step away and yet a step ahead.
I watch her play without “watching” her. She runs up and down the court looking into the stands to see what my reaction is and to see if she needs some “advice”. Most of the time I try to watch her in the periphery of my sight. I can see her but she can’t see that I can see her. She seems to relax a bit when she doesn’t feel like I’m scrutinizing her and getting ready to tell her how to do something. I see her relax and dribble the ball with ease and begin to watch what’s going on a little better.
It is her…
View original post 289 more words
Boiling down to a few words or a sentence or two is really hard! I took the tagline I already use on my blog and enhanced it.
Thought a photo or two would make you all go ooo! and aaah!! or maybe just say What the Hell?? I’m hoping for ooo and aaah but if it’s somewhere in between so I don’t worry that you think I’ve completely lost my mind I’ll be satisfied.
At any rate, enjoy. Or not. Or just scratch you head and wonder.
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Day In and Day Out
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This post was inspired by the crew over at WriteOn Edge and the RemembeRED prompt this week.
We’re doing something short and sweet for this week’s RemembeRED post.Imagine your life, or a part of your life, as a title and tagline.That’s it. Give us the title, and give us the tagline.We’re looking forward to seeing your life distilled to a few catchy, perfect words.
Tim Tebow is a great guy.
Tim Tebow is a good football player.
Tim Tebow is a Christian.
Tim Tebow is a wonderful role model.
Tim Tebow is not a religion, and that’s where my problem lies with all the Tebow hype. The fervor surrounding this young man is bordering on cult like. When we started calling kneeling in prayer as “Tebow-ing” and referring to his accomplishments in one game as “Tebow 3:16″ we are mangling Christian beliefs and putting importance on a man and taking it away from God. People are defending any criticism of him as if he is being attacked for his beliefs and those criticizing him are being ridiculed and judged harshly because of their criticism. Seems a bit hypocritical to me.
Let’s get real. Tim Tebow is a man who happens to be a good football player. Believing God is intervening because it’s Tim Tebow or that Tebow is a special football player because he believes in Jesus Christ is distorted thinking. It’s true; he is blessed. Blessed with talent, but so are the other 95 quarterbacks and the other 1600 position players in the NFL, some more than others, but blessed nonetheless.
Looking back over the years there have been other players and teams who have accomplished seemingly impossible odds to achieve greatness. Kurt Warner comes to my mind. He played good college ball but did not get drafted into the NFL. He went home and to stock groceries in a Hy-Vee grocery store (my favorite grocery store by the way). He turned to arena football and played there for three years before he was signed to the St. Louis Rams in 1998 where he did amazing things. On his Wikipedia page, he says he had a religious conversion in 1997, but his conversion was never attributed to his rise and prominence in the league.
Over the course of this season, my favorite team, The Denver Broncos, have managed to make it to the playoffs. AS A TEAM. Tim Tebow didn’t and couldn’t do it all by himself. No really! He couldn’t! I had my doubts and voiced them early in the season when everyone was shouting and stomping about Kyle Orton being the starter. Tebow was not being heralded as a good player because he was a good play. He was being heralded as a good player because he is a Christian and believes in Jesus Christ. His record and his abilities were a side note to every argument and reason given.
My belief is in the team as a whole to do what they can do as a team. Yes. I have rooted against them because I didn’t have confidence in Tebow as a long-term quarterback for the team. He made a lot of mistakes and lacked his own confidence. He committed 19 turnovers and completed 46.5% of his passes. PLEASE go compare his full stats against the other playoff QB’s in the league. I had cause to be skeptical. Their best chance if he was not that QB was for them to lose so they could cut their losses and have good positioning in the draft.
Click pic for ESPN stats
Compared to:
Click pic for ESPN stats
If Tebow continues to do good and proves my skepticism wrong, then great! But it didn’t have anything to do with God. It had to do with his ability as a player at the NFL level. He has a lot of room to improve and grow and he’s incredibly lucky to be able to work under one of the true great quarterbacks, John Elway. I’m still a Bronco girl. I’ve been a fan going back to when you had to wear a bag over your head to be a fan of the team. I love my team and I’m proud of their accomplishments as a team.
Watching the rest of the season is going to be hair pulling, frustrating, exciting and hopefully rewarding but it could be all that and disappointing if they lose. Just like every other year they have made the playoffs and caused us, the fans, to gnash our teeth and gain grey hairs watching them.
Let’s Go Broncos! Let’s Go!
Blossom, my beautiful 9 year old,fancies herself as a writer. It’s a good thing because she’s pretty damn good!
At three, she announced she wanted to write a book and then narrated a story for me to type and print for her. She also illustrated and decorated each page. She wanted it to look like a “real book” so at the next trip to the Mart, I acquired a report cover and her book “The Puppy and The Girl” was published. For Mommy and Daddy anyway.
When she was 5, she was absolutely in love with the Numeroff book “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” and she wrote her own “If You…” story called “If You Take a Mouse to Sundance” [side note here Sundance is small community in WY we visited that summer]. This tale was written in her own hand with notes by Mommy with correct words so I would know 20 years later what she wrote and what she wanted to say. This too was self illustrated and published by way of three staples on the left side so it would page like a book.
She tapped a little 250 word story out yesterday and shared it with her fam and friends. She asked me to make a blog post so she can get some “concrit”. I agreed because I believe concrit is good for every writer whether we are 9 or 90. I may put her onto Write On Edge and have her do some prompt writing. I think there’s some gold in them thar fingers. At least some fabulous writing waiting to burst out of her little mind onto the page.
Now, for Blossom’s Story (no title – yet)
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I walked down the stairs. A cool morning, 5:00 am. Never in my life had I thought of this. The haunted house down the street. I never notices it before, but remember one vague night. I was looking out my window at the house, waiting for her. Then it all happened in a flash… A black ghostly figure staring at me, holding a fist up daring to kill. Then she vanished… ”Clara!” yelled my friend Sam. (current day now). ”Im coming!” I yelled back to her. I quickly grab a cinamon roll and head out the door to wait for Sam, Josh, and Malinda. They all came in about 20 minutes.
My heart stops beating. A black cat crosses in front of the house. “NO!!” I scream. ”What, do you need help!!??” screams Malinda back. ”No there was a black cat in front of the house!” I reply. Josh’s face is green with terror mixed with sick fear. I want to scream and run but cant. My friends are relying on me. I fasten my backpack on my shoulder, brace myself, grab onto my friends hands, and walk to the door of the haunted house.
All I hear as we walk in our hearts beating. ”MOMMY MOMMY” yells a faint voice. I scream, grab my friends and try to run out the open door. But it shuts. We have been trapped in this haunted house. Forever. I should have said goodbye.
This is not a true story!!!!! I made it up out of my imagination. I HOPE YOU LIKE
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I’ve written about Blossom several times. I’ve included links to those post below.
More about Blossom in “Beauty Unknown” and “Only The Lonely Kid” and “Doing With an Audience of One“
It’s been years since I made Christmas goodies. Please read that again. It’s been years since I made Christmas goodies!
I began following RecipeGirl on Facebook and have enjoyed the wonderful recipes she posts. Then she started posting Christmas goodies recipes. Cookies, peanut brittle and FUDGE! She posted a recipe for Fantasy Fudge and she “commented Super simple fudge recipe- all done in the microwave!” Well, she had me at fudge and then she pushed me over the edge with microwave. THEN she had the nerve to post a recipe for CINNAMON FUDGE and that was all it took to send me into a cooking frenzy.
Thus began the Christmas goodie cook off and the sugar plums danced in my head as I decided I couldn’t stop at fudge I had to make the treats I had made every year for so many years. I quit the annual treat orgy due to expanding waistline , laziness a cease and desist in the family basket exchange. The list came out so I could procure the necessary ingredients for Fantasy Fudge, Cinnamon Fudge, Spritz Cookies, Chocolate Dipped Peanut Butter Ritz Cookies, Chocolate Mint Ritz Cookies, Chocolate and Vanilla Dipped Pretzels.
Yep. All That.
The shopping netted a dining table full of ingredients and the cooking began with the Fantasy Fudge. Ten minutes later, the fudge was in the pan cooling. What? Ten minutes? Then a preparing of the ingredients for the Cinnamon Fudge which I decided to do in the microwave as well and guess what? TEN MINUTES LATER I had a pan of Cinnamon Fudge!
The Spritz cookies began with a good amount of bragging on Facebook at the awesomeness of the fact that I still had my Super Shooter circa 1990 and planned to use it to make my favorite Christmas cookie.
Almost awesome Super Shooter
We all know what happens to people who brag right? They fall and they fall hard. Don’t be harsh because I bragged. The fact is my Super Shooter was a Zero Shooter. Dead On Assembly. A hurried trip to our local cooking store and I had a new electric cookie press and the cookies were done, divine and delicious (as always).
Done, Delicious and Divine! L to R Chocolate Fudge - Spritz Cookies - Cinnamon Fudge
After a days rest (all creators do this right?) Blossom and I kick phase two of Christmas Goodie into gear. She peanut butters two sleeves of Ritz crackers and I mint frost the other two sleeves. Chocolate melted in microwave, and “held” to the perfect temp with a heating pad underneath the bowl (thanks Alton Brown!), we dipped, dipped and dipped some more. I using the rest of the warm chocolate, I dipped pretzels.
All Dipped and ready to Dive In To!
Mint Slashes!
I was even clever enough to make a mark on the Mint Ritz so we would know which were Mint and which were Peanut Butter.
With an abundance of Christmas goodies and three of us to eat them, tins will be assembled and treats will be shared. After all, giving is good for the soul and Christmas is the season of Good(ie) Will to All.
Merry Christmas!
The question is the same most mornings when the girls arrive.
“What do you want for breakfast?”
Most mornings the answer is the same.
“Dippin’ eggs!” for one and “Toast!” for the other.
Sunshine streaming through the windows on a cold Spring morning left a path of warmth across the floor. Inviting and irresistible to a pair of well fed happy toddlers. The wishful thinking of days to come where they can pour themselves into the sunlight brought to their inventive little minds the best part of warm weather.
“We gonna have a picnic Grandma!”
Bossy, directions given by the elder and a bit of pointing an babbling from the younger. Blankies get arranged and rearranged in the midst of the sun’s patches and puzzle pieces. Then laying down to gaze up into grand view of the ceiling fan in the vault with giggles brimming out of the teapot of imagination and squeals of glee breaking the icy panes of a day closer to winter.
Only a slice of toast left from the morning breakfast fare but a feast of happiness created from the fanciful dreaming of a three year old and her little sister.
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This post is A “Magic Moment” inspired from and linked up to Things I Can’t Share
A Magic Moment is a moment you are so happy to have captured on camera.
How many times have I heard this song? How many times have I played it? This time there’s the satisfaction, I am the one marching and NOT playing the song until my fingers are stiff as grampa’s collar, and lips are buzzy and numb.
Daa, da da da daa daaaa! I look to the band pit smugly thinking “ha ha!” (like the Simpsons “Cartman”) Poor suckers! How many times are you doomed to play and listen to this song?
I stride to my seat grinning gleefully at two friends who also endured endlessness “Pomp and Circumstance.” Never more! The glances reveal a mirth and deep need to break into uncontrolled dance, but we maintain restrained.
The march winds down, the MC smiles, lifts his hands heavenward and introduces our class to the audience whose pride overflows like tight jeans holding up a muffin top. Families are giddy with gratification, relief or both. Their kid has reached the summit of life thus far. As the applause dwindles toward near silence he says, “Please be seated.”
Carefully smoothing my robe, I take my seat, a smile still squishes my face. Drawing a deep breath I am smacked with the realization. My thoughts race through rapids and channels as I understand this is the last time I will hear the march. This time it’s for me.
The speeches are filled with conviction that mere children may know what lies ahead. In reality they are clueless to the reality that nothing will be as it’s envision or believed. The time in between is smudged and blurred, indistinguishable accept for the churning worry I may trip while receiving my diploma.
I awake as Trumpet Voluntary begins to blast and mortar board rain down and I rush to escape to the future that awaits.
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This post was written thanks to the RemembeRED “prompt” at the red dress club:
This week we asked you to think about graduation. It didn’t have to be yours and it didn’t have to be high school. It does have to be non-fiction – it’s memoir.
Day In and Day Out 