NaPoWriMo 2020

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Day 2

BAGEL

 

A bagel’s just a bread bun

With a hole in it.

The thing that makes it diff’rent

Is the hole in it.

I toast it; spread with butter,

Except the hole in it !

And then I like to eat it …

Yep … the whole of it.

 

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NaPoWriMo 2020

Hello dear readers, if, in fact, there are any of you left. I have neglected my blog, I know. Its been over a year since I posted anything on here; the brain has been elsewhere.

So,what better way to return than with a Challenge ?

And what a Challenge ……….. the NaPoWriMo for April 2020.  [If you don’t know what that is, it’s a challenge to write a poem of some sort, every day in April.] Well, those of you who know me will realise that poems are not my usual genre, but here goes.

 

Day One.

 

                                   KNITWIT    (or Knitting In The Time Of Virus)

 

 

I’m a busy knitter,

I like knitting lots of stuff,

Stripy socks,

Silly hats,

A long scarf and a muff.

 

I sit and knit in my spare time,

Of which I have a lot,

Knitting blankets,

Knitting mitts,

Even shorts for when it’s hot.

 

But being in isolation,

I’ve got a LOT more hours.

So my house is full,

Of knitted wool,

And the garden has wool flowers.

 

 

 

 

 

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A Story at Christmas

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I always post a little story for Christmas, it’s one of my traditions. And, even though this festive season, for me, has already been tinged with sadness with the recent loss of my dear father, I know he would want me to keep up with my writing.  However, I cannot guarantee that this will be one of my best …….. 

 

A Christmas Story

Panic ! Panic ! Panic !

The window just would not budge !

She had experienced these panic attacks before.  Oh yes ~ probably three times before ~ It was always in this type of situation, always her own stupid fault.

She could feel the fear rising in her chest as she pushed and strained at the window latch. Every muscle in her body ached with the effort ~ but the flipping thing seemed to be stuck fast. She was feeling dizzy now ~ the room was so warm and yet the snow lay, cold, deep and inviting outside.

Panic ! Panic ! Panic !

The fire burned brightly in the quaint, inglenook fireplace. Its warmth filled the room, mingling with the wonderful, woody aroma of juniper, holly and  the fresh, green scent of pine needles. She turned to look behind her, sending a couple of Christmas cards fluttering to the floor, from their proud position on the window-sill.  Startled, she surveyed the scene before her.

A large Scots pine ~  freshly cut and brought indoors from the little forest just beyond the garden gate ~ stood in a corner, awaiting the adornment of the multitude of glittering Christmas ornaments. They had tumbled out of their box and now lay, strewn across the deep red carpet. In her alarm she had caused chaos and disarray, sending baubles and tinsel showering across the room as she dashed to the window.

She was trembling with fear now.  Bile filled her throat ……….

“Too warm ! Too warm !”

The door to the room had slammed shut and this damn window was the only way to get some air, some relief from this feeling of dread. If only the obstinate catch would move; if the window would open a little …….

She must get it open ! She must ……………………

“Come quickly, come quickly”

A voice from the hallway …….

“Please hurry, Mum”

Then the door was flung open and a young girl entered the room, followed  closely by her harassed mother, in a flour-dusted apron and disapproving frown.

” Oh, good heavens ! You haven’t even started on the tree. And why are the decorations all over the floor ? Be careful, you will break them !”

 

Mother gazed around the room and then ………………….

” Oh for heaven’s sake, Carol, close that window immediately, you’re letting all the heat out.  It’s freezing ! Now come on , I’m too busy with the mince pies to listen to your nonsense. There’s NOTHING here !”

Carol walked dejectedly to the open window and peered out into the night. The snow glistened in the moonlight and the trees cast dark, mysterious shadows across the frosty garden.

” But mum, I really DID see an ice fairy ! She was asleep in the branches of the Christmas tree ! I did see her …… I DID !” ………………………….

 

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Now all that remains is for me to wish you and yours a very happy festive season.  Whether or not you celebrate Christmas time : whether you are Christian, atheist, Muslim, Jehovah’s Witness, Jewish, Mormon, Buddhist, agnostic, Pagan or simply don’t know what you are. If you are sick or nursing someone who is ill.  If you are rich or poor or just bumbling along.  If you are mourning the loss of a loved one.   Whether you are in the bosom of your family, working over the holidays or all alone ……ESPECIALLY if you are all alone …. I wish you peace and happiness …. but most of all I wish you love. 

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Seven Days of Black and White Photos …. Day 7

 

Seven days of black and white photos of my life. No humans, no explanations ….. Day 7

 

 

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……And as it’s the last day of my black and white photos …. here is a bonus photo, especially for Sunday ….

 

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Seven Days of Black and White Photos …. Day 6

 

Seven days of black and white photos of my life.  No humans, no explanations ….. day 6

 

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Seven Days of Black and White Photos …..Day 5

 

 

Seven days of black and white photos of my life.  No humans, no explanations ……Day 5

 

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Seven Days of Black and White Photos …..Day 4

Seven days of black and white photos of my life. No humans, no explanations.

 

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Seven Days of Black and White Photos …. Day 3

Seven days of black and white photos of my life.  No humans, no explanations. …. Day 3

 

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Hallowe’en

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It was a rather gloomy Hallowe’en.  All day a strange, ochre-coloured fog had hung around the village. A fog so thick that it was almost impenetrable.

It appeared to drift up to each house in turn, as though testing the strength of the walls and windows. It covered the branches of the trees, saturating the few remaining russet-coloured leaves that still clung, limpet-like, to the almost bare twigs.

Decorative pumpkins, on porches and window sills, tried their best to brighten the scene. The orange faced carvings grinning doggedly through the murk, the candles barely managing to glimmer in the dense smog.

Wood smoke, from chimneys and one or two garden bonfires, mingled with the mist and contributed to the eerie feel ……. very spooky and quite in keeping with the time of year.

However, by teatime, when Jenny drove home from work, the majority of the nebulous atmosphere had dispersed, leaving only Jenny’s cottage still engulfed in the heavy fog. This surprised no one, not least Jenny herself.  Her home was situated in a hollow, halfway down a short lane to the west of the village. Frosts and mists were always reluctant to leave this area, it was so much lower than the rest of the village.  So, the little house remained almost completely obliterated …..  becoming practically invisible in the fog.

For the next couple of hours, the village was filled with the sound of happy voices.  ‘Guisers’ going to and fro, house to house, calling  “Trick or treat !” as they traversed the village……. Youngsters, unfazed by the cold, misty air.

Jenny happily dispensed sweets and cookies into eager hands; marvelled at the wonderfully inventive costumes and smiled at the grown-ups, as they hesitantly waited at the gate for their rosy-cheeked offspring. But, as she did this, she noticed that the weird miasma had dulled the usual sounds of childish giggles and shrieks of faux terror that usually permeated the village on Hallowe’en. The fog around her house absorbed the youngsters voices, till they resembled ghostly wails.

Eventually the ‘trick or treaters’ all drifted home, presumably to bed, as it was a school night. Jenny closed her front door and retreated to the warmth of her cosy sitting room and log fire. She flopped down in her over stuffed arm chair and pulled off her cardboard, witches hat. Her little dog, Maisy, immediately jumped onto her knee and began licking Jenny’s face, lovingly.

“Oh, Maisy,” laughed Jenny, ” You little monkey….. you shouldn’t lick my face, sweetie”

As though she understood, the little dog proceeded to lick Jenny’s hand instead. Jenny smiled and stroked the long, soft hair of her beloved companion.

” How about we go to bed ? I’m exhausted !” 

So Maisy padded obediently after her mistress as Jenny  tidied up, had a quick shower and prepared for the night.

Plumped up on feather pillows, Maisy by her side, she flicked listlessly thorough her bedtime book, but, suddenly overcome by tiredness, she kissed her pet , switched off the lamp and settled down to sleep.

Outside, the fog settled around the village once more, like a voluminous yellow-grey blanket.  And, again, it  accumulated more densely around Jenny’s cottage. Seeping into the bricks and mortar; sinking into the thatch of the roof; drifting down the chimney; sliding under doors.

Restlessly, Jenny tossed and turned, first flinging back the duvet, then shivering and pulling it back over her body. Her left leg dangled out of the bed and Jenny felt gentle licking on her bare ankle, then a nibble …. Sleepily she murmured,

 “Oh Maisy, do stop that and come back to bed !”

Then she turned over, pulling her leg back under the warm duvet and felt the soft form of her dog, fast asleep on the pillow, beside her …………………………………………….

 

 

 

 

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Seven Days of Black and White Photos ….. Day 2

A black and white photo each day, for 7 days. No humans, no explanations …….

 

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