Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Heading to Camp!

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I'm off to boot camp… or in this case Writing Camp. 

What was I thinking when I signed up… especially after the spectacular crash that was NaNoWriMo Nov11- now that was an ill-fated adventure for me… while I didn't get anywhere near the finish line (I think I was still tying up my hiking boots when everyone had arrived home ;) I DID however manage some words. More words than I've ever attempted before which is a very good thing. It got me WRITING. Therein lies the point.


I've opted not to bunk down in the cabins (unless of course Miss Dove decides to join me… which if that happens - writing? What writing camp???) 

So as I pack my swag with goodies - imagine me under the endless stars, a vodka cruiser or three and plenty of chocolate! A notebook to handwrite my story (yes hand-write… I'm slightly crazy okay!) and my all time favourite pen. A beanie, Uggies and 10 bags of marshmallows - who needs real food when camping in the wilderness? 

I will try to radio in here each night, so I can share my tally with you all and get my daily dose of civilisation to keep those crazy levels of sanity I'm so accustomed to.

I'd say go ahead & wish me luck, but am afraid that as un-co as I am if you say "break a leg" I might just do it! 

(ETA if per chance you see no further posts from me in August… can we safely assume that camp was flooded out and I've been stuck at home? 'Kay… sweet works for me too!)   

{fateful discovery} Menage Monday Prompt

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Tiny yellow and white daisies speckled the lush green blades of grass of the field ahead.

Behind a path of destruction as daisies lay trampled, shattered stems with soiled petals coated in a blizzard of clipped grass.

Four hooves, pounding solidly across the field toting a rhythm upon the hard ground underfoot.

This was the moment she'd been striving toward, this time she was playing for keeps. As the memory of her fathers disapproving voice rung in her ears, she knew this was her only chance to prove him wrong.

If she made this kill, it would feed their family the entire cold season and her father would have to admit defeat.

The bison stood still up ahead, staring warily down at her. Slowing her mare to a trot, she raised her Arrow and drew the Bow slowly, pausing momentarily her eyes focused on his. Deep dark brown eyes, rimmed with thick bushy eyelashes returned her stare. Awaiting its fate, his knowing eyes seemed to pierce her soul. Begging her, the silent plea awakened her senses. Lowering the bow and arrow, placing her hand across her heart she knew now her destiny lay in healing not killing.


197 words - Flash fiction for Menage Monday #41

I was 20 mins late submitting this piece so it won't be included in the judging this week! I forgot the the time frame on this prompt is US which means we don't see the prompt until close to 10pm on Monday night and it closes Tuesday lunch time. Tuesday mornings are notoriously busy for me so I daresay I will miss the closing time for this prompt each week. Shame. Still I had fun and it's good to stretch the creativity to areas I wouldn't normally venture.   

Sunday, July 29, 2012

{Above} Visual Dare #15

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The picture was torn and tattered along the edges. Yellowed and curled with constant handling, smudges of ink stained the writing opposite. Closing her special journal with a sigh, she fervently wished that life had dealt them a different hand. Her dreams captured within this photo like a web. Dreams of a trip to the States; imagining herself floating high above in a bright colourful balloon, watching the river meander through the countryside below. Her burdens lightened by a lack of gravity. Floating through life with not a care in the world. No chains to bind her to the ground. Freedom.  
Linking up with Anonymous Legacy again. This week I struggled I wanted to add a piece to my current WIP but the picture is set in a different world to the one I'm trying to describe. Rather than throw it aside in disgust, I've tried to work it from a different angle - though I'm still not happy with it. Yet that's what writing is all about. Some days are good. Some are bad. Some the dreams are always just out of reach. Floating away with the balloon.
Constructive Criticism welcomed.    

{Perserverance} Five Sentence Fiction Prompt

Lillie McFerrin
 The soft squeak of his sneakers, filtered after him as the doctor walked away.
She sat still, body numbed by the sad and dreadful news he had delivered.
A frightening new treatment regime for her little girl, an unknown entity to battle a mysterious disease.   
Gathering her resolve, she stood slowly and as her shaking subsided, she stalked back toward the ward.
This was but another hurdle in their journey together and together they would fight.
Linking up with Lillie McFerrin this week. It's been a long time since I've joined in on Five Sentence Fiction and I'm trying to get into a routine of joining in each week. This piece is part of the big story I'm trying to write (it feels weird to refer to it as a Novel just yet ;)   
Constructive Criticism welcomed.  

Friday, July 27, 2012


Can I tell you a dirty little secret?  Good do I have your attention? 

We have a RAT!!!  












Image from Here

Yet I remain unconvinced that he and his cohorts are as cute as this little critter. They are so LOUD and the banging that keep up ALL NIGHT LONG are driving me batty. To the point I feel like doing this:

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Again image from Here

Of course these thoughts of throwing knives at them could be entirely related to a raging case of Hormones. Why is it that during PMT we get the urge to take up dangerous sports? In the past week alone I've had the urge to either a) join the circus as a knife throwing apprentice or b) obtain a yearly membership to a shooting range. Raging hormones aside these pesky little creatures are doing my head in. It's gotten to the stage, every time they scurry and bang across the roof, I find myself yelling at the ceiling to get the Fudgesicals out of my house or god help me there'll be trouble. I can't possibly be the only crazy person to do this… right?!? I'm guessing they are smarter than the average rat because you know with my fear of heights they know I can't possibly come up into the ceiling after them.

No matter I still have a broom ;)

I have visions of DH coming home one afternoon and finding a crazy wild haired lady in the corner with her broom; surrounded by broken ceiling plaster. Looking up he sees the holes. So many holes. I might have mentioned this vision to DH and it wasn't warmly received - could be he was remembering several years ago; a house around the corner was up for sale as is. The past occupant had gone CRAZY - drilled holes all over the cement floor, ripped out roof panels, peeled back wall plaster and so on. I could totally relate to that CRAZY man. Isn't it obvious - he must have had Rats! Or treasure. 











So our little friends appear to have settled in and have no intention of leaving. I won't lie and say that I don't sometimes fear that one day they will come come pouring out through the ceiling panels like that scene in the beginning of the movie. Seriously.

We had pest control out to to set baits as well we have set our own traps and yet nothing, running & scuttling around the roof as though they own the place. I apologise to any of you who own Rats as pets, while I understand that the talk of baits and traps might be less than appealing to you - I can no longer have them squatting in our roof. We live on semi-rural property - if they don't go soon, we WILL end up with Snakes. And to be perfectly honestly - the house would be on the market faster than you can say SNAKE; there is no way I will live here knowing a slithering icky snake has taken up residence!  

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

{Gutted} Visual Dare #14

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Was it only a week ago? 
Lying here together, contemplating their future. An endless future of happiness in this home they had built together. 
Only five days living a simple life. Now everything was wrong. 
Tears coursed down her cheeks as she mourned. Memories lost. Dreams broken. Closing her eyes, her vision consumed once more with frightening images. Red and Orange flashes. Shrouded by hazy grey smoke. Surreal images.   
The desolation surrounding her did not lie. Her aching heart and soul matched the pain of her body.
An image appeared in the brightly lit doorway. Silhouetted by the blazing sun.
Returned to her as he'd promised a week earlier. Inching forward and embracing the light her pain eased.
Her soul was filled. Two Hearts become one. 

Linking up with Anonymous Legacy for the first time this week. Miss Dove and I are challenging each other to even greater heights of creativity this week! I've attempted a flash fiction (100 words) this one finished at 127! I'm thinking that even though I could have incorporated this prompt into my current WIP; flash fiction is better for me as I need to learn to restrict my word count.
Constructive Criticism is most welcome! 
{ETA - I'm having major issues with line spacing due to a new blog editing program, hence the weird spacing!}

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Dr Google is EVIL…

Rule #1 of the internets… don't Google symptoms. Quite aside from the fact you usually end up with a multitude of unwanted email spam in your email folder… NO I do NOT need viagra thank you very much! Usually the search will take you places your mind doesn't want to go and adds un-necessary worry.

Like 2 weeks ago, I had suffered hot flushes off and on ALL day. Horrible bloody things they are, my face was constantly burning up but the rest of my body was freezing. It got to the stage on the way home, I had the Aircon blasting and my face would still not cool down. My body on the other hand was freezing. Odd because if anyone knows me, you will know I'm a frog and absolutely miserable in the cold weather!

So I come home and Dr Google diagnoses me with early menopause; cause like I'm 35 and I totally wanted to hear that! Or worse some form of Cancer. 

Fast forward to last night and with AF still AWOL I start searching possible causes because this is NOT normal for my body. Of course what do I stumble across - premature early menopause. 

Some would say it's a sign…. 

A sure sign to back the frick away from the evil computer and the equally evil Dr Google. 

Do you Google weird stuff? 

Friday, July 20, 2012

Tired of PMT...

I know my hubby gets real tired of my PMT moments (or should I say DAYS!) the constant sniping toward him, the girl, the dog, the car, the house, pretty much anybody who is stupid enough to get in my way.

I've heard people say just control it - it can't be that bad… perhaps they are the lucky ones that have never suffered from it.

Then there are those who say you shouldn't use it as an excuse for being in a bad mood. Suck it up princess. 

I know this because I once thought it (gawd, I'd NEVER try telling a woman in the depths of PMT that though!!! I value my LIFE!)

When I was on the pill years and years ago now, I didn't get any form of PMT. I was never snappy and though my body had it's own issues my hormones remained level. Then I went off the pill and started trying for a baby. Two and a half LONG years of no hormones balancing my body and my moods went haywire. At first I couldn't understand why I was so tired. Lacked motivation. Snappy for no particular reason and using the excuse "it's because I'm tired" had no bearing. As the months went by, I tracked my cycle and I really understood my body in and out. I knew that on Day 19 the symptoms of PMT would start. Snappiness. Tiredness. Cranky. Teary. Exhausted. I also knew that AF would arrive Day 24. It made trying for a baby that much harder because I would just 'know' by day 19 that it was all over red-rover for another month. Eventually after 30 odd cycles I stopped counting. I couldn't be arsed tracking something that was so futile.

Post baby, my cycles pretty much picked up where they left off - a mere WEEK after I had the 6 week postpartum bleeding! IF I was lucky I would have a 25 or maybe even 27 day cycle but I nearly ALWAYS had a 5 day window of PMT.

Five years later, I've managed to really screw up my body by adding a different pill. Taken continuously for 6 months and we all know that it didn't work, but something else happened… it's prompted my body to get back into a more normal cycle. It was bumping it up closer to that elusive 28 days. Exactly a year after the operation I had all the PMT symptoms from Day 19… then no AF. It went AWOL and FINALLY arrived on day 31. 12 days of PMT symptoms. 12 days of slight cramping and expecting it to arrive any moment. 12 days of Hormone spikes and bad moods. 12 days of fatigue. Lack of motivation. It was a horrible 12 days for all.

This month has done exactly the same. I'm currently day 32 and still waiting for AF to arrive in all her glory. I have been suffering with severe PMT since Day 19. I've been expecting her  since last Wednesday (& no I'm not Pregnant, I ruled that out this morning). 

I am tired of it. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of being on tenterhooks because I know that when she arrives so too the pain. I'm tired of snapping everyones' heads off. I'm tired of constantly apologising for being such a bitch to live with. I'm tired of feeling like I need a big cry though the tears won't come.

Usually it's the men who complain about PMT, but here I am a woman suffering through her 13th day of severe PMT and I am openly admitting I flippin' HATE PMT. 

Friday, July 6, 2012

Research and Genealogy

Earlier today (in a bid to clean my study) I pulled out some old paperwork that once belonged to my late Nan. I had forgotten how many photocopies I had collected over the years and once more I sat down with copies of her family tree and tried piecing together the blanks. It's amazing how a simple family tree can end up having so many spiderwebs - the more people you add the bigger it becomes.  To make matters worse there are so many people in the tree that have similar names; so I find myself having to think is this the Great Grandfather or the Great great grandfather - only to find the Great, Great, Great Grandfather of the other spouse has the same name. Aarrh! 

Tonight I finally bit the bullet and put out a call to a few of my relatives on Facebook. In the hopes they may have SOME information - no matter how small that may be. Even with a simple date (birth or marriage), I've found it can open up a whole new avenue of searching. Fingers crossed for some shared information. 

To top matters off I have a million questions surrounding one pertinent member of the family tree. Two names have been mentioned in the past and I have found diddly squat in both births and death notices for that person, in either name given. Luckily I do have the original wedding certificate of said person here with me, but finding more information has been a needle in a haystack for me.

I wrote the other day about how important it is for me to keep a record of ME. It seems silly to write down crazy little things - but after going through our family history; those little things - the cost of sewing a dress back in the late 1920's and what the world was like back then, it makes my little journals all that little more precious. So much so - I'm half considering buying a fire safety box to store them all in. Or scan them all.  

Have you ever researched family history? What do you do when you hit a brick wall?  

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Why do we blog?

Today as I was writing a blog post to share some photos on my crafty blog; I thought to myself I must remember to take a photo of the next blanket I chain up and then write a blog post about it. Then I got to thinking… why do we write blogs?

A fellow blogger told me the other day that she couldn't see the point of blogging when you feel you are just talking to yourself.

It got me thinking and I thought about how few followers I have both here and there. And how I get even fewer comments on each post.

Yet I still continue to blog. I blog the ups and downs right here. Of life. Of living. Of carving out a writing dream in a world where blogging has made everyone a writer. Over there I blog my creative pursuits. My failed ventures. My Wins. My art, crafts and dreams.

Last week I finished a crochet blanket. It took me 2 years from buying the magazine with the pattern to hooking together the final squares. 199 squares crocheted through the heat of summer and the cold dark depths of winter (hee hee!!) Along the journey I blogged my progress on the blanket. I have photographed small squares by themselves and stacked high. Squares laid out in pattern. Wonky squares where there may (or may not) have been a beer in the background. This blanket now lies across my daughters bed and the story of how that blanket came to be has been journalled and photographed in small snippets over it's long journey and will now be forever remembered thanks to my blog.
A small moment of history, a small piece of me shared with the world.

It doesn't matter that I am a small blogger with but a handful of faithful followers and commenters. It doesn't matter that my little 5cm square meant nothing in those readers' day to day lives.
What does matter is my small 5cm square that grew and grew to become a glorious and colourful blanket made up of 199 small squares and that journey has now been recorded for my daughter and it tells a little about me. The person I am today.

So often we lose the essence of who a person was until it is far too late.

That is why I blog.