100 words for Grownups

The starter for  100 words for Grownups. this week is ...out of the mouths of babes.... , this made me smile as children are so often funny and /or poignant in their sayings.

All in a day's work.

 All was quiet in the room, the sound of scratching pencils, the murmur of voices, the occasional squeak of table or chair. Gradually the noise began to rise, as it does. The relaxed atmosphere was spiced with a pinch of ... something going on. She gave the room a cursory glance, then turned back. She issued gentle directions and suggestions. The hint of something going on became stronger. She looked across the room. She started with revulsion. She saw two small boys with pencils sticking out of their nostrils. “Darius, made me do it!”  Out of the mouths of babes...

This actually happened yesterday!

Tiredness...

There appears to be a veritable epidemic of tiredness these days. In small children this leads, quite often, to appalling behaviour and an early night much to the relief of all parties. Then there is the tiredness of extreme ill health. A bone weary, utter exhaustion, to which there is no quick fix, but resting in bed brings some small relief.
 This:

Main Entry:	tired
Part of Speech:	adjective
Definition:	exhausted, weary
Synonyms:	all in, annoyed, asleep, beat*, bored, broken-down, burned out, collapsing, consumed, dead on one's feet, distressed, dog-tired, done for, done in, drained, drooping, droopy, drowsy, empty, enervated, exasperated, fagged, faint, fatigued, fed up*, finished, flagging, haggard, irked, irritated, jaded, narcoleptic, overtaxed, overworked, petered out, played out, pooped, prostrated, run-down, sick of, sleepy, spent, stale, tuckered out, wasted, worn, worn out

shows us how many words we could use. However a number refer to the notion that we ourselves are not tired, but that we dislike or have ceased to favour the item or the person.

Over the past year, I have literally been sick and tired. Now I am recuperating I am occasionally drooping, fatigued and dog tired. This is entirely to be expected and is remedied, as in infancy with an early night, and normal service is resumed.
The 'tired' to which I refer I think stems from an overly stressed or demanding life or even lifestyle. I have been there myself, but my recent reflections have led me to believe that we often say we are tired when we are unwilling to elucidate on how we really feel. The unwillingness to further explain may stem from not wishing to offend or, indeed, from laziness at better expressing ourselves. We may say we are tired when we are actually prevaricating about that which MUST be done. We may say we are tired, when we have NOT done that which needed doing. We might say we are tired when we actually think we are being burdened with tasks that we genuinely feel are most unfair. I think sometimes we say we are tired when we are bored!

                        Sooooo tired...

After my big thinks, I made a deal with myself. I'm not going to say I'm tired unless I really am. I'm going to say I'm struggling if I have too much to do. I'm going to get on with the inescapable tasks BUT I'm going to make darn sure that I don't say I'm tired when I've lumbered myself with jobs within my control and of my own volition - like blogging or clearing up craft things or helping with the fish, I agreed we should have.
I'm not going to hide what I really feel by saying I'm tired.

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week #10

Hours and hours wasted.

I simply don’t believe it. Hours I have spent, nurturing, tending, caring.  All for what?  It’s nothing short of a travesty.  They looked beautiful, tumbling like brightly coloured hair.  The different colours blending like an earthbound rainbow.  I cherished my little ones, spared them from pests and diseases, never letting them go hungry.  I placed them with love, ensuring each had enough room to grow, to reach their potential.  I used all my skill, my years of experience, I gave them my all. All for this, my babies chopped and shorn, to make a living statue.

Small pleasures...

We all know what big pleasures are, days out, a meal out, celebrations. I enjoy all of them. However there is a risk that between these events life can become humdrum, leading us to live merely from exciting event to exciting event. I used to be like that a number of years ago. Initially it was when I was in a depressed frame of mind, only really enjoying events that took me away from what I found difficult. Fortunately I was able to recognise this and made changes to my life. Part of what held me back was a degree of timidity and lack of self worth. I have worked on both in the intervening years.

                                                                              

My life has recently been turned upside down and I was unable (for a while) to partake in big pleasures. This was then when I developed my eye for the small pleasures. The first of these comes from our bird feeding station. We erected it when we moved here just over a year ago. The birds of course ignored it completely for months. However, just as I became almost housebound, the birds moved in. I have been delighted by birds of many varieties, first gathering food for their chicks and then the juvenile birds with all their antics.

                                                                         
The next small pleasure I have rediscovered has been reading. The pressures of my career meant that I rarely read, except during holidays. As Mr G likes us to get out and about, this meant extended reads were limited.
I  have used the local library a lot in my convalescence and the delight in spotting a 'new' book by a favourite author is hard to beat. I have relished the time to read, and have widened my reading too. A good book is the best escape from a sometimes uncomfortable time.
                                                                              

                                                                              

The last small pleasure has developed from the rides out into the country with Mr G. We have explored country lanes and thoroughly enjoy spotting hidden beauty around where we live. The pastoral landscape provides views to be savoured and slowly absorbed. We have seen red kites circling in the skies, fields full of sheep and lambs, cows and calves. We have explored vistas that stretch for miles and tiny hidden valleys. England is very beautiful.
 I have learned to enjoy all my life, not just the big, fun parts. The small pleasures are sometimes the best.

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups

This challenge is now in it's ninth week. The starter we were given was "Mary thought". The challenge is to add 100 words to the starter. The genre I have chosen reflects books I have been reading lately. I hope you enjoy it.

An incident.

The incident room hummed with expectation.  As Detective Superintendent Taylor entered, the room hushed as if a wind had blown out the chatter. In silence Taylor placed several photos on the large board. They were shocking, Mary thought she had never seen such violence personified. She shuddered quickly and violently. The victim lay as if shattered, the pieces resting against a wall. It was clear that even the most concerted efforts could not have saved him. How could this have happened?  It seemed inconceivable that this could have been an accident. Taylor addressed the room. 

”This is H. Dumpty” he said.

Chintz and stationery.

Lately I have developed a real passion for chintz. My liking began last year when I bought a chintz lanyard for school and a phone case. Sadly, the phone case was stolen! While I've been out of action I have had lots of time to browse the interwobbles and get lots of ideas. A few weeks ago, I prevailed upon Mr G to take me to the Cath Kidston  factory shop. I was in chintzy heaven! The shop is a dream of chintzy loveliness. I bought a couple of things which are a birthday surprise I won't spoil here. For myself, I bought two pencil cases, one contains lots of stationery, the other is a skinny one for pens. The latter fits well in my handbag. Recently, I found a link  to this  Sew Surprising  on my facebook page and contacted Helen. I bought the big bag in the picture below.

My chintzy loveliness.

In addition to my desire for chintz, I also love stationery. I love my rollerball cartridge pens, and buy crayons to support my drawing habit regularly. At Easter, the school staff put together a fabulous box of goodies for me. As well as Easter eggs, an Easter chick soft toy and plants and other things from socks to hand cream, I also received some super stationery. I got a pen, notebook and some delicious post-it notes. These items have been kept safe and will be adorning my school bag on Monday when I return.

Alas, my chintz love needs to be confined to bags, stationery and mugs. My G does not share my passion, and to be fair why should he? Nevertheless, I enjoy all my chintzy bits and pieces. As for the stationery I fear I am a doomed. Now what was the site for those new wipe off crayons - ah found it! I told you I was a lost cause...

The Celebration.

Today, Mr G and I went to Ely to have our Celebration Meal. This is to mark the end of my treatment and the end of Summer Holidays. However we had a couple of jobs to do before we got there. The first job was to take some of my things to my school in the city. The school was in chaos as the men mending the heating still had holes in the floors, the heating was ON so it was boiling, and the site manager was busy putting up a board in my room. Mr G and I said hello to everyone, drew a plan of how I want my room, and rescued all the DVD's and CD's from one of the bags so I can sort them out, and beat a hasty retreat. As I was not scheduled to work today in phased return plans, maybe it was a good thing I could not do more.

Roxie


Our next job was to take my Smart fortwo Roxie, to the car hospital. She has a rumbly brake and needs it fixing. I take her to see Mark at fudgesmart, he and Shawn are great at fixing these little cars.
Finally we headed to Ely, here we met our first traffic jam of the day. As we crept towards the railway bridge we realised that, once again, someone had driven an over height vehicle under the bridge. The Luton style van had had its roof removed as if a can opener had been run around it. There was a rather poignant mattress sticking up through the hole. A police officer was reversing it away from the bridge and two crestfallen men were surveying the damage.

 When we reached  Peacocks  we were delighted to find there was no queue. We were seated in the room you can see in the picture and quickly confirmed our choice of    Peacock's New Pink Perfection , the link shows the menu, but we enjoyed smoked salmon, fizzy pink wine and scones with jam and cream. I had rose petal tea, which was almost exactly like drinking the perfume of a beautiful scented rose.

We enjoyed a walk by the river before popping into the city centre to mooch around the shops while our lunch settled and the pink wine wore off. We were surprised when a single Tornado aircraft roared overhead performing a flypast, but later spotted a gentleman in RAF dress uniform near the Cathedral and later found that there had been a Wedding.
Our journey home took ages as we hit traffic jam after traffic jam. It was not until we were nearly home when we heard that there had been a tragic air accident which closed the A1. I send condolences to the family of the pilot who died. Despite this sad news, Mr G and I had a brilliant, if busy, celebration day.

Next week sees us both back to work, Mr G after six weeks school holiday and me after seven months off sick. We are both looking forward to this next part of our life together.