Life

I Thought I Knew

May 18, 2024 Sally11 Comments

Yesterday, when I went into work at 5 AM and entered the building, I thought I smelled something.

Smells niggle, don’t they — tickling some unreachable place in the brain.

Oh — I knew the smell, or at least thought that I did.

Cannabis.

I shook my head. I certainly was not going to be the one who turned in someone on the night cleaning crew, but sheesh, they should know better. What you do on your time is your business, but what you do when you’re on the clock — not so much.

It was about an hour later that one of my early morning co-workers came by to see me.

“Did you see that this morning?” he asked.

“What?” I replied, somewhat confused. I had seen nothing unusual on the way into work and we both drive the same route.

“Right by the side door,” he said, gesturing with his chin to the door he uses. I actually use a different door when I come in.

I shook my head. “I didn’t see anything,” I said.

“You must have smelled it then,” he said.

I shook my head again.

“That huge skunk?!” he said. “It had obviously just sprayed, but I was worried it might try to get me too! We were that close.” He indicated a spot about 5 yards away.

I shook my head now for a different reason. Do skunk and cannabis smell similar? A quick google search affirmed that they, indeed, DO smell somewhat alike.

I thought I knew what I was smelling.

Guess I was wrong.

Sorry, night guys!

This is in response to Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt: What’s that smell?

I haven’t done SoC writing in a while — too busy, too tired, life too full, all the excuses. When I read her prompt this week, though, I had just had my cannabis-skunk experience so I wrote it out.

poetry

Signs of Hope

May 17, 2024May 17, 2024 Sally15 Comments

Dandelions: dreams, prayers
Each seed holding hardy hope
Wind blows it beyond our dares
To where we thrive, more than cope

The poem started off as another unpronounceable Irish form — but the form had way too many rules, so I made up my own rules: a quatrain, every line 7 syllables, abab rhyme scheme. I suppose I should make up a name for it?

“Every seed is a bit of Optimism” — this sign was one I painted to go on our barn. When I took it out to the barn, though, it was hard to read from the road, so I painted over it and painted this one instead:

I’ve watched people turn around and come back to photograph the sign on the barn. Some even hop out of their cars and pose in front of it.

We all need reminders of hope, right?

Thank you to Sadje who came up with the prompt of “HOPE” for W3 this week.

fiction

Choices

May 11, 2024 Sally10 Comments

“As a token of my gratitude, I want to give you a gift.” The little man who was speaking was still brushing dirt off his odd sparkly garment and examining the rips and tears caused by the dogs.

Dan shook his head. It all seemed surreal. He had seen the dogs chasing the man. He had watched them biting at his legs as he disappeared through a little hole in the dilapadated door. He yelled and kicked the dogs to drive them away before opening the broken door to check on the man.

And there the man sat, on the floor, studying his hands and legs for injury, tsk-tsking at the holes he would have to mend in his leggings.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked. “Can I help you?”

“No, no, no,” replied the man, his voice high and squeaky, like an old door hinge. “Let me give you a gift.”

He withdrew from his pocket a small ornate key.

“This key will open one of those three boxes,” he said, gesturing to three boxes that Dan hadn’t noticed on a shelf in the corner.

“The red box holds love. You will have a life full of love,” the man said, “but also great heartbreak.

“The blue box holds adventure. You will go and do amazing things — the sky is the limit — but have no one special to share them with.

“The yellow box holds enough — nothing amazing, but always enough money, enough people, enough time.

“Which will you choose?”

Unicorn Challenge again. So simple: write no more than 250 words based on the photo prompt.

I looked up “SERRURERIE” and learned that it’s a locksmith’s shop — hence, the key.

But seriously — which would you choose?

fiction

The Swan

May 5, 2024 Sally8 Comments

Something about that bird niggled at Toby.

It made his head hurt, so he sat on his haunches and scratched at his left ear.

What was it?

The bird was beautiful, majestic, tall-necked, proud. It swiveled its head to observe the lone spectator.

Toby could have sworn that the bird smirked at him with its glance. As if swans could smirk.

Still, something niggled, so he scratched his ear.

The swan turned and swam past him again, going in the opposite direction. This time it definitely smirked at him. He had heard it honking a greeting to the other swans in the canal. Then it looked at him, smirked, and HISSED.

The hiss was an awful warning. Frightening and fierce. Yet, Toby had done nothing to threaten the swan.

No, no, no, he said, in a low gutteral growl. Who’s threatening who here, mister?

The swan continued to stare and smirk, swiveling its head on its long graceful neck.

Toby yipped at swan’s receding tail. Hey! Have we met before?

It stopped and turned back again. This time it headed to the bank and flapped up onto the path. The hurried waddle meant more than business, Toby decided, as he stopped scratching his ear and cowered down on the cobbled path.

The swan stopped in front of Toby, lifting its head and neck so it was taller than tall, flapping its wings out to a huge wingspan.

Remember me now? it hissed.

This is my submission for the Unicorn Challenge this week. The Unicorn Challenge is simple — no more than 250 words and base them on the photo prompt.

I tried to look inside the mind of a dog — but the dog just wanted to scratch its ear. Ear mites? Or deep thoughts?

Faith · poetry

Adrift

May 2, 2024 Sally13 Comments

Adrift
In a coracle
No oar
Unmoored
Belonging only
To the One
Who authors
Currents
And winds

This is my response to the W³ prompt this week which is to write a free verse poem of not more than 12 lines with a theme of belonging.

I’ve been feeling a bit at loose ends lately, like I’ve lost my footing. Even my faith, which has been my bedrock, has felt shaky. Belonging to a church feels like a crock. Speaking Christianese, which once felt so natural, now feels false.

I am, indeed, unmoored — and yet I belong.

fiction

Warning Signs

April 27, 2024 Sally9 Comments

“Hey, Jack! How’re you doing?

“Yeah, I’m out for a walk. Can’t believe I still have a signal out here, but you’re coming through loud and clear.

“What? I didn’t catch that. You sound like you’re exercising. Are you out running? …Yeah, I may be a little short of breath, too. I’m heading to the bay. Just went past the sign.

“What sign? You know, the one about deep cold water and strong currents. It never scared me when we were kids, and I’m not going to let it scare me now.

“Speak up, could you? You sound miles away. What? God, Jack, your voice sounds weak. Are you okay?

“Hold on a sec, Jack. There’s some people coming towards me.”

[distant boy’s voice] “We tried to swim. The water is FREEZING.”

[distant woman’s voice] “And they weren’t kidding about the currents! I almost lost him to the sea!”

Indistinct conversation. Laughter.

[not speaking into the phone]”Thanks! I’m going to check it out anyway. Have a good one….

[back on the phone] “Hear that, Jack? Wish you were here with me for old time’s sake. What? I’m really having trouble hearing you. And you sound so out of breath. What are you doing?

“Your chest is tight? What do you mean? … Wait, is this like when you had that heart attack? What? I’m having a hard time hearing you, Jack. Can you speak directly into the phone?

“Jack? Are you okay? Is anyone there with you? Jack? Jack?”

This is my response to the Unicorn Challenge. Write no more than 250 words based on the photo. Easy-peasy.

I wanted to write one side of a telephone conversation. Did I do it right?

A to Z Blogging Challenge · Bible Study · poetry

Nazareth

April 25, 2024 Sally6 Comments

Can anything good come out of Nazareth? — John 1:46

It’s a speck
On the map
Nazareth
Let’s recap:

It was home
To a mere
300
(so I hear)

Nothing big
Nothing key
Just a spot
Zilch to see

Yet from there
Came the Christ
Who for us:
Sacrificed

This year for the A-to-Z challenge, I’m challenging myself to write a Cethramtu Rannaigechta Moire ~~every day~~. I can’t pronounce it, but I can tell you that it’s an Irish poetic form that requires 3 syllable lines in quatrains. The second and fourth lines rhyme.

Additionally, I’ve been collecting questions for a few years — specifically questions from the Bible. I have so many questions.

Turns out the Bible is full of questions.

So, I’m using questions from the Gospel of John for this challenge.

poetry

Folly

April 24, 2024 Sally8 Comments

A ladder
Propped up (could he be madder?!)
‘gainst barn on sawhorses, planks
Tanks.

No surprise
It failed — who would/could advise
Such a scheme? Only a fool
(You’ll

Soon agree)
Maybe you’re thinking “newbie” —
Nope! That’s not it either. See —
He

Was skillful
But also way too willful
To listen to any sense
(Dense)

Just foolish
And, like a donkey, mulish
Stubborn. He thought it would work.
(smirk)

To foresee
(he could not) those sheep, carefree,
Stampeding through his death trap
(Crap!)

He survived!
This story is not contrived;
It’s true. I heard it last eve —
Steve

This is an Irish form called Deibide Baise Fri Toin. It’s made up of quatrains with an aabb rhyme scheme. Syllable count 3-7-7-1. Lines one and two rhyme on a two-syllable word; lines three and four rhyme on a monosyllabic word.

This is in response to the W³ prompt: folly