Sunday's Short Story.

I know it's Monday...but we left the house on the Bay...Sunday evening, and scudded down the old M6 to catch The Durrell's on the box...so no time to post as we cope very nicely without WiFi in the Bay house.

(...an aside...
...the bay sunset, which is renowned anyway, was especially beautiful on Saturday because of the stormy weather....I just had to run out and catch the end of it before the sun went down.)

Prompt

The prompt from Pat F.on Thursday at The Writer's Workshop was a challenge. Not that it isn't always a challenge for me...but this one stumped me for a while. But the only thing to do in that situation is to go with the first idea that comes .. and run with it. We only have a bit over an hour to write before we read the results to each other....so here it is...

Albert was not yet ready to share his age with Ivy. She had been told that his birthday was coming up, But as his secretary she needed to be careful about broadcasting it around the office. After all Albert was the boss.The company had been good to her. Life was difficult enough since Syd died. She was still coming to terms with an empty house every evening.Ivy felt angry about it all although she knew that his family had a history of heart attacks. Nevertheless, being who she was, one who copes, it was just a few weeks after Syd's funeral that she determined to get herself a job, and get back into a daily routine.To have Albert as her boss was more that she had dared to hope for.She did have a lot of experience noted down on her c.v. But with so many people applying for so few positions, she realised that in this she had fallen on her feet.....or to be more precise...on the office chair!

Her office wall abutted Albert's office wall. And regularly she would either be in his room taking notes or receiving lists of jobs to be achieved, Or Albert would breeze into her office. No knock of course, just striding in and sitting on the edge of her desk with a file or USB to peruse But recently often it had often been with a mug of coffee at the start of the business day. That was quite a thing! In her last job she had always been expected to be both office worker and tea girl for the whole  floor. 

He was no Adonis, Albert P. Shingle. Sometimes when she thought about it she had a giggle over the name...Shingle! Was it an illness or a beach? She preferred to think it was a beach.And what did the P stand for if anything? Some people put a middle letter into their signature to make it more memorable. Of course it might just be Peter or Paul or maybe Phillip. But she liked to think it was exotic...maybe Peregrine to counteract the blandness of Albert.! Oh dear as the months had gone by that she was thinking more and more about his life outside of the office, And today she knew that he would celebrate his fiftieth. Surely it couldn't pass by unmentioned?

Someone elsewhere in the company must be planning a surprise. No word of this forthcoming...at least none that she had heard of. Her job was precious. She loved the work. She was good at it she discovered. Better than she ever imagined she would be She would let the day pass by.

Every day Ivy made sure that all she did and even what she wore was as professional and efficient as she could make it. She was taking much more thought over her appearance than she had done for many years. Was that her being professional, or did she feel at forty three she still had a lot of living ahead of her? With no children from her marriage to care for life was starting anew .So there would be no way she was going to throw a spanner in the works and step forward now to plan something for Albert's birthday.

But there were little things she could do without making an issue of it. She put a bunch of spring flowers in a pretty jug on the side of the desk - not too ostentatious just enough to sweeten the often stale office air. She bought a packet of triple chocolate biscuits to offer when he arrived  with her coffee. She wore a new blouse she had bought at the weekend. Still a crisp white cotton but with a little pie crust collar on it. And in these small ways she hoped her boss would know that she recognized both the day and also the position she held in the company.

At nine fifteen as usual Albert stepped into her office. Coffee in hand, he smiled. She offered him a cookie. He took one and hesitated. 

"It's my birthday Ivy. I was wondering if you would join me this evening for dinner? I've taken a chance that you might say yes and booked a table at a local restaurant...what do you say?"

The flowers bloomed and shared their perfume in the room, out through the door and into the rest of the building!

Oh dear...cheesy end...but what to do when Pat says.."Five more minutes and then we shall read!"

Well you bring it all to conclusion...and who doesn't love a happy ending anyway!!

By the way you could see more of my pics on my Instagram site...if you were of such a mind!!

geraldinesnape...documenting the mundane

A Story for Sunday..."Keys"

Thursday morning is writer's workshop day. I may have mentioned it before. We are given a prompt to use. It may be a word or a cutting from the paper or even a picture cut out of a magazine.

This short story started with the prompt word..."keys"

I find if I think too much I never get started...so I tend to go with the first idea in my head and write on from there...sometimes it makes sense and sometimes it even surprises me as the story enfolds.

"Keys"

Another cold damp day. I pulled the dusty velvet curtains apart...reluctantly. 

Yesterday's busking had been an utter failure. Standing for hours on the corner of high street. 

That was no fun.

The wintry winds came at me from both directions.

"Go South"...the family had said. "You'll make more money down there. Folk have more cash than us'nes up here in this god-forsaken northern coastal town."

So I went. Did what they suggested. Took their advice. Boarded the bus. Suitcase, handbag, guitar and all. What a palaver! Still I made it. Found a place to lay my head. Not grand you know, but enough. A person can live on a lot less that they think, I've discovered!

And here was another day. I gathered my equipment into a large cotton bag. Carefully stached  the sheet music in a folder... for some things are more precious than others, and the music is one of them. Most of this had been collected during college days. Precious notes bought at the city music store. Carefully chosen to suit my voice and simple enough to be fit for busking. Well what else can a musician do after the heady years of training.? I followed the trend.

The bus stopped in the town centre and I made my way to my usual spot. I'd taken a few days after arriving in the port to look for a good site. This seemed the best. It was on a corner where the two busiest shopping streets met. A good little overhang jutting out from a roof giving me some protection from the rain.Never mind that I hadn't reckoned on a pesky southern wind that couldn't make up it's mind which way to blow. Life  throws a googley or two to catch us unawares!

The town was just starting to get busy. Office workers and school children hurried along with heads down preparing mentally for another day behind a desk. Early shoppers were out for bargains. Scanning the shop windows , looking for the best sales, the 2 for 1, the great bargain. All intent on getting somewhere. this was not the time of day for lingering. Nevertheless I set up the stand and pegged some music to it. I'd brought extra pegs just to defy the wind! Dad always said ,"Be prepared"! I slipped the guitar out of the case, slung the strap around one shoulder and tuned the strings. It's hard to keep them in tune in such weather...but noone would notice if it was slightly out.as they hurried past.

She wasn't hurrying. The young mum. She looked lost I'd say. A child clutched her legs with a fierceness of possession. There are many like her in this southern port. They slide quietly in from trucks and boats. Looking for what I was looking for as well I suppose. A life, some hope, peace and security. Or at least a place of safety to lay their head at the end of the day.

I had been singing for a good hour when I saw her again. The child with his wild eyes. Her face white  and her clothes mismatched. It marked her out as a stranger. She came shyly up to me and made a request. "Did I know this?...did I have the words and music?

" Yes." I asked her for a key...it was the key of C if I remember... and she started to sing to my quitar accompaniment.

A soulful voice, pure on the notes, beautiful with meaning, leaving me breathless.....poured out of the young woman.Tear filled my eyes and I was unable to speak as she finished.

And then she walked away.  The child whimpered and clutched her hand as she led him .

I gained some composure and glanced down at the money cap by my feet. For the first time that week it was full of coins.  

A Poem for Thursday.

A Poem for Thursday

Today at the writers' workshop the prompt was from Shauna. She gave each of us some pages with interesting lists, to make us think about our lives and the people associated with us at various stages of it.

Time Line..............I choose 10 - 15. ...it was the 50s, it was Co Down, and all was well in my world.

Before the Fall

Time was endless, friends were many.

Vicky and Sandy, and I was Gerry.

We laughed a lot, linked arms and talked

About boys we fancied and those we stalked.

A caravan was where we gathered 

Under the stars at Ballyferris

Our bare feet kicking the silver sand.

Where time was endless, nothing planned.

"There's  Cassiopeia and there's the Plough".

"Oh your luck's in, there's a shooting star!"

We raced down maran covered dunes

And harmonised on Western tunes.

And miles away on the far horizon

Were ships bound for ports in the land of England.

We seldom thought of our futures then,

But time and tide don't wait for man.

They pass unseen and never waver

Then gather up all in their net without favour.

And I daren't go back to that holy place

Where time stood still. A time when space

And mercy was real, before the fall

That enveloped and overwhelmed us all.

Chalk Paint

It's been a long time coming, but at last, at last,  we have redecorated the dining room.
I say we...you who know me will realise that the royal "We" usually means ..The Potter!.
But I did my bit by keeping up the supply of coffee and tea and making soup for lunch from the stock saved from the holiday meats and bones. Never, ever did a carcass get thrown out at the Ormeau Road home in Belfast while I was growing up. Bones and giblets, onion and carrots, rice or barley and the homely smell of stock simmering on a low gas!...ahhh! .
...Anyway the walls are now a soft grey, the ceiling white and the wooden staircase wall white as well. Things have yet to go back in place, but it's starting to regain a life of its own again .
For a while it had become a dumping ground...the table always full of items crying for attention .......or not!
 I also did my duty and went to IKEA! Obviously, I bought a box of candles....does anyone ever go to IKEA and not buy candles? I bought new cushion covers in glorious shades of grey...very tasteful I'm told ..a sort of zebra rug thingy to put under the table...to warm our feet...the room is not the warmest spot in the house.
 Oh and three little sheepskin rugs to cover the seats of the wooden chairs. That idea I saw in one of the blogs I follow " Lisas Hus "....http://lisashus.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/ett-vackert-julslut.html....brilliant...so now there will be warm feet and warm derrières.
I'd bought some chalk paints about a year ago when I first mentioned the redesign of the room to the potter and there they sat all year, clogging up the kitchen surfaces. But today, was the day to bite the bullet and brighten up the old wooden chairs.
We used to be antique dealers. Hmmm....what have we not been I ask myself!...and to paint a windsor chair was tantamount to betraying one's country....treason!
What rubbish...I plonked it on the studio table and got the job done...love it. Another two to do tomorrow and the job's a goodun...as they say around here.

Writer's Workshop Warrington

My prompt today was a photograph taken out of a weekend magazine and one of many offered by Margaret K.

...and this was the result...

"Hopes and Dreams"

I might go to China this year.

Go and see the great wall of China.

I'm told that one of mum's relatives walked it in the 1800s.

She was a sturdy woman called Isabelle.

Isabelles are sturdy I think.

Maybe that's why one of the grandgirls is so feisty ....well part of the reason!

I tell her that the Queen of Spain was an Isabelle, Isabella actually to be correct.

So, a lot to live up to there, not that she is'nt quite capable enough.

She'll probably end up leading some political party in the future, then walking the length of the Wall of China before becoming the next Queen Isabelle of Spain.

The other Isabelle waas Scottish.

That says it all really

Determined, sturdy, feisty....all my Scottish female relatives in a nutshell.

So...China this year?

Sooner pigs might fly.

There was a lottery rollover yesterday.

I hear it was the largest ever...£50m!

I said, what a responsibility if you win.

The daughter said, I think I could find ways of using it.

We bought tickets and had a meal together while we waited for the result.

We had game pie made by another grandgirl.

She put the rest of the goose and duck from the freezer into a bechamel sauce in a dish and slapped a nice golden crust on the top.

Great girl.

I tell her she's a queen too.

Esther

The one who took a year out in finishing school before she wooed King Xerxes with her beauty.

Of course I don't think that they had anything like the Great British Bake Off then,

Or even the Duke of Edinburgh award scheme.

That's Esther's motivation at the moment.

The Duke of Edinburgh Award Cooking Badge.

Anyway we benefit from all that.

So all good there then,.

I heard nothing back from the daughter.

So I don't think we won the £50m.

Haven't seen any pigs flying either today.

I've stopped looking in the mirror much these days.

There's something happening with my face.

The skin has acquired a lot of unnecessary lines.

They started around my eyes a few years ago.

I bought the right skin cream.

The advert said that it stopped any aging which might occur....completely.

It promised a peach soft glowing complexion.

I followed the instructions for years.

Not one to give in at the first sign of failure. 

My mouth area was next to "line up".

Someone said that the top lip gets thinnner as you get older, they were right...

 ..noone said it disappears altogether. 

And what's that trick that lipstick plays.

A creeping red line from the lips to the nose?

Nasty.

Anyway, I think they were lying, that company selling the face cream.

So I just stopped looking in the mirror.

It lies too.

Peach soft skin?

Pigs might fly!

Blogging, followers and friends!!

I've been posting blogs since March 2010...I can hardly believe that!

 But in all that time I've not personally met a single blogger friend. Well all that has changed! 

The timing was exact...the place was right ...the conversation started...and lo and behold...someone who actually had read my posts...finding them on the sidebar list of the wonderful Pen Wilcox. Stunned ..we both were.

I was standing by the Pithoi pots at The Beetham Garden Centre near Milnthorpe in Lancashire when as I was ringing the rims to make sure that the pot was whole..as.any little crack or flaw will not give a bell-like sound. (This I know from the potter himself!...he had rung one or two before going off to buy a pot for our Christmas present to one another.)

It's big!...some in the Tuesday evening ceramic group that he teaches wondered why he didn't make it himself...well...it's bigger than the kiln for a start! And pithoi from Crete are famous for their shapes and traditional decoration.

So now I'm a follower on "woolywanderer" on Instagram...I'm G Snape there.."Documenting the Mundane" by the way. And also a follower on multicolouredmadness.blogspot.com .

We hugged with laughter and tears and hugged again...two grown women who had never met but had so much in common! 

Well that's blogging for you. You wait five years and along comes a follower and then a friend. We shall plan to meet up again I'm sure of that as we both have homes around that glorious Bay I talk about so much.

Thankyou Blogspot...thankyou daughter amelieshouse.blogspot.co.uk for getting me started...thankyou senior grandgirl troase.blogspot.co.uk for encouraging and quietly showing me techie things!!

A Poem for Thursday..."Just Desserts"

The prompt on Thursday morning was...."Desserts"...but with out fail everyone of us thought of "Just desserts". So the stories were rich with comeuppances!!
I decided to go for lists. We had been encouraged at the last workshop at Aldeburgh to think along this line...so this is what arrived.

...it applies to whatever you do....