Take the time…

So, I have been a bit quiet on WordPress recently. Channelling my creative energy in a different manner, supporting a loved one who has recently been diagnosed with a rare cancer. I won’t deny it was a shock and for a while, I didn’t write at all, but my soul aches to put pen to paper (and fingers to keyboard) and it is commonly the best method for me, for dealing with the more complicated emotions.

I have long been a follower of Sue’s marvellous blog and love her #writephoto prompts – so inspiring. This week I want to offer something a little less creative as my entry. The prompt reminded me of this quote.

“But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of ocean. Blue, green, grey, white, or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.”

~H.P. Lovecraft

Shore Image by Sue Vincent.pngDealing with these types of illness can be hard. Yet, for some reason, the strangest of things can bring solace. For some reason staring at the ocean waves as they roll in is one of those things. I want to take my relative, who is suffering to his beach to watch the waves roll in. We can both sit and watch the waves for hours, without talking, and it was a terrific way to spend time together. No forced words, no difficult subjects, just relaxation and time, staring at a random, repetitive scene of the sea. The motion of the waves, never quite the same but similar, is mesmerising. Somehow this seems good for the soul. It may be with others, it may be just for yourself but take the time to just stop and watch… you might be surprised by the effect.

Much Love,

KL ❤

Fragments of perception

Such a beautiful, vivid, inspiring article by Sue. It reminds me of the Lewis Carroll quote “I can’t go back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” Such a multi-layered message that can apply to so many circumstances. Enjoy the read. Much Love. KL ❤

The Silent Eye

Fragments of night rise from the road, scattering flecks of dawn on ebony wings. I watch the sun gild a horizon veiled in mist and see the earth blush at its touch. The morning song of birds drowns the sound of the engine as I drive through a green land that is waking to spring. It is only a few weeks since I last drove this road, yet it is a different place… the seasons have turned, the light has advanced… new life springs from old. It is beautiful and I know this road so well that I can give my attention to the land. I am struck, quite forcibly, by the realisation that no-one has ever seen quite what I am seeing…nor will they ever see quite this scene again.

And nor will I. This is the very last time I will see it. For a moment that thought…

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Flames – #Writephoto

She swallowed the concoction, trying not to wretch as it burned its way down her throat. It was the only way, the way to see what had come before and what would come next, her spirit journey her grandmother had called it. Sure it had settled within her she closed her eyes sending a silent prayer to her grandmother, flame-image-by-sue-vincentthen opened them and gazed into the burning flame. The dancing embers relaxed and calmed her and soon her mind emptied of all thoughts just focussed on the glowing gambolling flickers of light. Soon they merged as one and a face reflected in the flames, at first she didn’t recognise it but soon she realised it was her own aged features that were looking back at her as the realisation hit her the journey took over.

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Flinching at the light she blinked wildly. Where was she? The harsh white room didn’t look like anywhere she had been and the smell was so invasive. It was a hospital, a modern hospital. But why? Her people did not attend hospitals, they had no need, they had years of medical knowledge that had been lost or ignored by so many of today’s world.

“Hello?” she shouted but no-one answered. She looked at the machines but they made no sense. Giving up she tugged on the thing that was linked into her arm. It hurt but she thought she would get it loose, she gave another sharp tug and it came out. She rifled through the drawers in her cabinet and came across her clothes and a head scarf, that would do. She quickly got changed then wrapped her headscarf around her arm where the hospital thing had been.

Slowly she emerged from the room and out into the corridors. Everything seemed so quiet. Walking to the closest doorway she peered inside. Gasping at the sight, it was Merriam, the group elder, everything bandaged except her face. She tried to open the door but it wouldn’t move. She moved on slowly, guilt already consuming her at the thought of leaving Merriam behind. At the next door, she could see four beds in the room, two people were turned away from her but the two people closest she could see clearly, Abel and John. Again they were both fully bandaged but their faces were exposed, their bodies asleep. She tried the door but again it wouldn’t open. She turned to move down the corridor again but as she looked down her feet were bare, the clothes she had put on had vanished and she found herself once again in the hospital gown. She tried to move forward but her feet rebelled and she found herself returning back to her room and climbing into the bed. As she glanced once more at her scarf covered arm it had vanished and the thing had reappeared back in her arm. Despite her will to stay awake, her body refused and down her eyelids closed.

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When she awoke the flames had died down and the cold that surrounded her bit into her skin. Ignoring it she pulled a blanket and rose to her feet. She had to go warn Merriam of what she had seen. Something bad was about to happen to her people, she knew it and she had to stop it. She prayed Merriam would listen.


I love this image, so intriguing. If you want to give it a go too, head over to Sue’s Page Thursday Photo Prompt – Flames #writephoto and join in the prompt.KL ❤

Outsmarted by a 5-year-old

A friend of mine has an adorable five-year-old (5YO) son. He looks like butter wouldn’t melt, yet secretly he is a genius and can win most arguments – not with pouting or tantrums like most kids, worse he uses logic! After a recent house move, he began to attend a Church of England School. My friend isn’t religious at all, she would definitely give Songs of Praise a wide berth…but the school has excellent ratings. The problem really started when his pet died. The conversation went a little like this:

5YO: “Mum, you know how Oscar died?”secret

Mum: “Yes, we are all very sad.”

5YO: “He’s not coming back is he?”

MUM: “No he isn’t, Sweetie.”

5YO “Well, how come humans come back from the dead?”

MUM laughs, thinking some TV series has probably put this idea into his head: “Humans don’t come back from the dead.”

5YO: “Yes, they do!”

MUM: “No they don’t”

5YO: “Yes, they do, my teacher said so. I think I’ll come back from the dead.”

MUM (wondering if she should be checking up at school): “No, she didn’t. You must have got confused.”

5YO (getting frustrated now): “I’m not, he’s called Jesus. He died and then came back to life.”

MUM (sighing relief): “Oh that’s different. He only did that because he was the son of God. You won’t do that.”

5YO (silent for 30 seconds): “I thought we were all God’s children?…”

My friend was dumbstruck. How do you combat that argument? She has decided all future religious discussions will be left in the far more capable hands of the school.


When did kids get so smart?.. Hope this made you smile as much as it made me! Enjoy – KL ❤

muttley

Monday Mirthfulness

Saturday night for me consisted of a catch up with friends, a shared takeaway, a few drinks at the local pub followed by a nightcap back at mine. At 2.30am after several hours of laughter and general merriment, I conceded and made my way up to bed. Little did I know for a few of the others the party continued…

Two of our friends headed off into town to a nightclub and after meeting and chatting with some strangers took a taxi to their house for a house-party. After deciding that the party wasn’t very good our friends made their way to the railway platform to catch the early train home…

Unbeknown to them the platform 1 they had actually made their way to was part of the National Railway Museum, it was an abandoned track that hadn’t been used for over 40 years and had been incorporated as part of a walking tour the museum offered. After around 20 minutes of thinking the place looked way too quiet they turned on their phone to google map it and realised their mistake. Slightly sheepish they shuffled their way to the real train station and platform 1 and made their way home.

After their hangovers had subsided we caught up with them later yesterday afternoon and on enquiring what they finally regaled the tale. Well… needless to say, it amused us greatly and it’s not a story us (or them!) will be forgetting quickly.

muttley

Writing a Synopsis #wwwblogs #writinganovel

A lot of really good structured advice on writing a good synopsis here…

Alison Williams Writing

writing_humour_synopsis-scaled500 (1)jenspenden.com

I’ve worked with lots of writers who can compose the most beautiful prose, bring scenes to vivid life, make me care about their characters, keep me turning the page, but these same writers find one thing almost impossible to do – they can’t write a synopsis.

What is it about a synopsis that has so many writers struggling? It doesn’t seem to matter how great a writer you are, there’s just something about condensing your masterpiece down into one or two sides of A4 that strikes fear into a writer’s heart.

And I think that’s the issue. As authors, we spend so long on our books, every last detail is important to us. A synopsis asks us to get to the heart of the story, to strip away to the bare bones – and that can be really hard when you are so close to the world you’ve created…

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When life gives you an unexpected lesson…

So, earlier this year I made the crazy decision to try to be a better version of myself – see post. Now, I’m not a small framed girl and ladies in my family are all very generous in the bust department so running does not come particularly naturally to me. Let’s just say I like the idea of it more than the actual doing… However I am nothing if not stubborn and perseverance kept bringing me back to this, it seemed the perfect work-out I could even listen to an audio-book while I go, right, what can be bad about that?

Arriving home from a stressful day, I decided I could squeeze in a quick jog before my husband arrived home. It was cutting it fine but I could do it. However rummaging around in the room I couldn’t find my usual jogging bottoms that double as dog walking gear so settled on leggings (it’s what other girls wear right). Rummaging further I remembered that the workout shirt I used to wear had decided to part way with any normal colour and I had thrown it out. No problem, I still had that lycra top from the yoga class I took all those years ago – a little tight now and a bit too slinky but it would do the job. Bouncing down the stairs in my new attire I raided the coat stand and finding nothing suitable settled on a short sleeve hoody that again is usually relegated to dog walking on the sunny-but-not-quite-summer days. And I was off…Marylin Monroe - Quote.

Running a reasonable pace (I thought) and all in good time. The top began to get on my nerves, slinking up all the time. Not a massive problem on its own but the leggings also decided they wanted to start slipping down. Fed up with the continual battle I grabbed hold of the waistband and hoicked with all my power and heard a ripping sound. Now although impressed at my strength, it was at this point that I realised that leggings weren’t supposed to make that sound and that on further inspection I was actually wearing black footless tights. To make matters worse my underwear was not black – disaster! The top I was wearing refused to co-operate and cover my bottom and I couldn’t even cover myself with my hoodie as it was one of those silly ones with short sleeves.

The good news is I have never run home so fast in all my life and my heart probably got the best work out it has ever had.

run funny