My Ideal Saturday

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Me Time.”

What would be my ideal Saturday morning? At the moment, I am sitting and watching it snow on top of the three inches we got last night. I have been going through my emails and wondering why there aren’t as many as there usually is. It’s cold and I have upped the heat in my home about 4 degrees higher than I normally keep it. But, to answer the question, what would be my ideal Saturday morning? This is it.

Doing what I want to do and feeling no pressure to do anything else.

I’m trying to figure things out with my technology addled mind. There is so much to know! I need to do something soon as my iPad has been acting up on me lately. I need to get a new computer but they are so expensive!

I feel fortunate that I don’t have to go out and brave the cold and snowy/icy streets. I also feel fortunate that I am warm and safe inside my home.

This Saturday, I am doing exactly what I want to be doing and being grateful that I am. And, being grateful for so much more.

A Fairy Tale for Ady

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Cupid’s Arrow.”

Dear Ady,

Once Upon a Time in a land far far away and in a time that was filled with fairies and elves, dragons and knights, and one princess.

The princess lived with her mother queen and father king in a large castle with a moat surrounding it. The father King would only allow the bridge brought down for them to leave the castle when it was time to go grocery shopping. Once they had finished their grocery shopping, up went the bridge and no one could come to the castle.

Now the moat was filled with alligators and poisonous water snakes so no one would even dare to swim across the moat to the castle. Thus, leaving the beautiful princess very very lonely.

“Father,” pled the princess, “I want to have callers come see me so I will not feel alone anymore.”

“No princess, I don’t want callers to come see you because your mother and I want to keep you with us always.”

The beautiful princess would go to her room and cry, and cry, and cry.

This went on day, after day, after day. And still, the father king would not allow callers for his beautiful daughter.

One day all was quiet in the castle. The father king and mother queen were playing chess and the beautiful princess was in her room sad and alone.

Suddenly, she heard some pecking at her window. She went to the window and there was a bird standing there waiting for her to open the window. She hurriedly opened the window and the bird handed her a note. The note read:

“Dear beautiful princess,

I have wanted very much to come calling for you but they will not let down the bridge so that I can. I have a plan and if my plan works, I will come for you to marry me.”

The princess was so happy! Finally, she would have a gentleman caller to become her husband! She must not tell her father king or her mother queen.

The next morning they heard a scratching sound at their front door. This was highly unusual because they had no visitors because of the moat. The servant went and opened the door and standing there was a small puppy, wet and shaking. The princess hurriedly picked up the puppy and held it to her very tight. “Oh father and mother, may I keep this puppy?” The father king and mother queen agreed that she could keep the puppy.

The beautiful princess dried off the puppy and gave him something to eat. She told the puppy his name was Valentine. The puppy was very happy with his new name.

That night, the princess was tucking the puppy in his bed for the night and gave him a kiss on his cheek. Immediately, the puppy turned into a handsome prince.

“Oh! I thought you were a puppy but you are a handsome prince!?”

The prince took the hand of the beautiful princess and kissed her on the lips. This made the princess very happy.

“I have come for you to become my wife.” The prince answered.

Together they fled from the castle (and let down the bridge without the king and queen knowing), and ran to the village and eloped.

This was the day that became Valentine’s Day and is a national holiday in this land far far away.
Your friend,

PJ

First Light: Words

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “First Light.”

With my mind full of cobwebs, my bladder screams into the fogginess of the webs, jolting me awake to get up and take care of it. It’s cold. I can’t sleep if it’s too warm. Immediately I pull on my ridiculous but ridiculously warm, one piece pajamas and stumble into the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. With that comforting and familiar sound of the coffee rumbling into a delicious brew, I turn on the morning news and next turn on my computer to sift through the WordPress emails that have flittered in during the night before.

I’m thinking, I might need toothpicks to hold up my eyelids. Okay, maybe not. I take a drink of the hot liquid and my mind gradually snaps into the present. I begin laughing, ooouuing and ahhhing over all the wonderful words that have filled my inbox. I delight in reading and answering them.

Can you see me? Can you see my lips formed into a permanent smile as I read your post and view the photographs you have so artistically taken? Do you feel what my heart feels when you say something profound and heartfelt? Do you feel the closeness toward me that I feel toward you when I am reading your words that you so creatively and lovingly woven together just for me to read?

It is through our words, our beautiful words, that we share our own private world and friendship with one another. I sincerely hope my words are as beautiful to you as your words are beautiful to me.

Transport to Childhood

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Transporter.”

Tell us about a sensation — a taste, a smell, a piece of music — that transports you back to childhood. ~ Daily Prompt 02/10/15

Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, I have to have hot cocoa and toast for breakfast. This is my comfort food breakfast and it takes me back to the time I was a little bitty girl. All I wanted for breakfast was cocoa (hot) and toast. Of course, my mother made the best. She made the cocoa from scratch, using milk, Hershey’s chocolate powder and sugar. There was no instant cocoa or pre-made chocolate milk. It was carefully and lovingly made from scratch. And the toast wasn’t instant popup toaster toast, no. It was buttered bread broiled in the oven to perfection.

The joy of eating this delightful breakfast was the careful dipping of the buttered toast into the hot cocoa and eating it dripping with hot cocoa and running down my chin. It was my ultimate happiness breakfast and made my day begin on a happy note and a full tummy.

It isn’t the same eating this delicious breakfast as an adult as it was as a little child, but it still makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside and I think back to that little girl that loved every squishy bite.

Teacher of Impact

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Teacher’s Pet.”

Tell us about a teacher who had a real impact on your life, either for the better or the worse. How is your life different today because of him or her? ~ Daily Prompt 02/01/2015

Laurna and Murna were two sisters that lived down the road from me and were my best friends in second grade. We ate lunch together every single day. One day at lunch, as usual, we were together in the lunch line and got separated by tables. I was the last one to be seated at one table and they began the next table. I was anguished over our separation. I stood up and over the noisy crowded room yelled, “Laurna, Murna!” They didn’t hear me, so I yelled again.

Suddenly a teacher who was on lunch-room duty came and grabbed me by my arm and yanked me up from the table. She told me she was taking me to my teacher for a spanking. I had no idea what for! Why was I getting a spanking? Because I yelled for my friends? Apparently, it was because this lunch duty teacher had motioned for me to sit down and I didn’t mind her.
The truth is, I didn’t see her motioning for me to sit down.

When my teacher got back from lunch she took me to the back of the class behind a partition and walloped me several times with a wooden paddle. I happened to have on jeans that day so it was very painful.

After my paddling, I laid my head on my desk and cried for the remainder of school day. I was humiliated and I had been punished for something I didn’t know was wrong.

About a month after this happened, we had eye tests at school and it was discovered that I was near-sighted and needed glasses. I didn’t see that teacher motion for me to sit down because I COULDN’T see her.

I think the impact that this had on me wasn’t the fault of my teacher that only carried out what she was told to do, but of that old cranky prune that picked me up by my arm and marched me to the principal’s office.