Resonance revisited

Ive waited 30 years for this…

6 years ago I wrote the post below..

Tomorrow I am seeing her in Glasgow. Then again on Monday in Manchester.

I think it will be emotional…

——————————–

A while back I wrote here about my relationship with music, and felt that it was more of a series of filthy one night stands rather that a true romance for the ages.

Listening to a random playlist this morning I was reminded of the time when I indeed fell in love at first sight and in fact spent the following years in slow lovemaking on a white fluffy rug in front of a crackling fire with Kenny G playing the high notes in time with my enamoured thrusts.

It was 1992 and I was living in Knysna in South Africa. I went to the cinema, a ramshackle old place with the most uncomfortable seating, but working air conditioning which at the height of an African summer is a true wonder indeed.

I recall quite clearly sitting in my seat, and being early the projectionist had put some music on. This was no chain, but a privately owned place. Sitting there, as the music played, never had I ever heard anything, before or since, that resonated with me as much as the album he had playing that day.

You know that feeling, when something just resonates so deeply and perfectly that you feel like it’s what you’ve always been waiting for. Sometimes you will meet a person, read a book or watch a film and it feels like it was made just for you. Yes? Well that is how I felt when I first heard ‘Blind Man’s Zoo’ by 10000 maniacs.

I listened and listened and track after track just left me wanting more. I don’t remember what the film was that day, but I do remember heading up to the projection box before the film started needing to know what was playing. The chap was so excited to share as much as he could and actually gave me the cassette that was playing at the time that I could take it home and just bring it back when I was done.

Even now, when I hear the album – which I still listen to regularly – I still remember each song like it was the first time I heard it and I am taken back to that pokey little cinema with it’s uncomfortable chairs and the gorgeous melancholy of Natalie Merchant.

Photo courtesy of stevepb @ pixabay

My wellbeing journey – The tree is no more…

And that brings that to an end…

About a year ago I decided to leave my Xmas tree up and decorate it with other things throughout the year and that I would only take it down when the world got back to normal.

The tree is down, but I realise that this is not the normal we left behind…

I just felt the tree thing had ran its course and it was time to move onto something else. A few folk have already remarked that they miss seeing the tree, and it is a little bare in here, but I am deciding still on what to do next. Watch this space I guess.

It certainly proved a talking point on the millions of zoom calls I had to endure the last year, and it was fun coming up with new ideas so yes, I will miss it.

God I should have left it up shouldn’t I…hmmm

Oh well…onwards and upwards!

If you’re curious, these are the trees:

Valentines Tree

Easter Tree

Star Wars Tree

Celebration tree

Summer tree

Halloween

50th tree

Xmas tree

My wellbeing journey – My xmas Tree Edition

So a year after I first put the tree up its back to christmas. I kept it sparse as only really wanted lights and tinsel.

So think thats 7 or 8 different trees this year…

I haven’t decided if ill continue yet. We shall see. Been a lot of fun though that’s for sure.

Oh and there Is a picture of the main tree. There are also trees in theIoffice and kitchen too. We like trees i guess 🙂

If you’re curious, these are the other trees:

Valentines Tree

Easter Tree

Star Wars Tree

Celebration tree

Summer tree

Halloween

50th tree

My wellbeing journey – The Summer Tree Edition

May the fourth be with you

Time for another tree. It’s summer, and it was the summer solstice yesterday – so let’s have something a little summery and celebratory of all things bright and beautiful shall we! Fiesta time baby!

If you’re curious, these are the other trees:

Valentines Tree

Easter Tree

Star Wars Tree

My wellbeing journey – The Star Wars Tree Edition

May the fourth be with you

You can read about the start of the tree journey here. If you cannot be bothered then long story short, we have left a Christmas tree up and will decorate it seasonally all year long because why the hell not. 🙂

Might be odd to some but hey, makes me happy!

To celebrate Star Wars Day on May the Fourth (- be with you …And also with you) I picked up some red and blue tinsel and proceeded to 3D print X wing fighters, tie fighters, a D wing fighter, a Millennium Falcon, a Baby yoda snowflake or two, a couple of death stars and the sprayed them gold. I then topped it all off with a Kylo-Ren light sabre teddy.

If you’re curious, these are the other trees:

Valentines Tree

Easter Tree

An unexpected Christmas gift.

What a surprise that would have been…

My son turned 14 the other day and he had 7 of his friends over for a sleep over after a trip to the movies and for something to eat.   I know, I know, at this point you are already probably shaking your head because yes you are right, it was a bloody stupid idea.

To be fair to them they are a pretty nice bunch of lads but that said they are still 14 year old boys and therefore also a huge pain in the arse.  As expected they were loud, they smelled awful and they all think they are most funny when they are not.  Even when they were still pissing about at 2 in the morning it was kind of expected so for the most part I just let them be.

The next morning though there was a rather unexpected surprise when I went into my Amazon account to order a last minute Christmas gift.  Seems they had been using the Amazon Alexa search and order functionality to pick up some last minute Christmas gifts themselves.

Below is just part of the Alexa search history and the item I found awaiting my check out.

Well at least the wife says it was them…

Such thoughtful boys…

screenshot_20181222-101033_amazon shopping233364193054641232..jpgscreenshot_20181222-101539_amazon alexa1069071908132573103..jpg

Going Underground

I am not a good person at all…

I am a firm believer that to be on time is to be late, and to be late is to unforgivable.  If you need to be somewhere then you ought to get there early because anything else is just rude.  It was very much to my horror therefore that earlier this week I was nearly an hour late for a training course I was due to attend in London.

Now I would like to blame everybody else but it was my fault which only serves to make the whole episode that much more frustrating.

I was visiting an office I had never been to before and as I usually would gave it a quick google, checked which tube station to head to from Waterloo and set off with enough time to get me there with a good half an hour to spare to allow me to have a bit of a wander about.

As a seasoned visitor to the capital I like to think I am pretty good at getting about but alas I was so very, very wrong.  Boarding at waterloo I had a 50 minute journey with a change and this alone should have set the alarm bells ringing.  I knew roughly where it was yet I ignored that quiet whisper that told me that I ought to double check.

I don’t usually ignore this voice, not since that time I decided to install a kitchen and I measured how much I needed to trim off the work top in centimetres yet cut it off in inches.  There’s no hiding that from the wife when she gets home I tell you, but alas I did ignore it.

Now if you have not experienced rush hour on the London tube then trust me it is  as bad as you might imagine.  I was crammed so close to other people that in some cultures I am pretty certain that I am now engaged to at least two women and one bloke and there was a point where I had to explain to a fellow that I really couldn’t move up any more as if I did my groin would be closer to the face of a rather diminutive Sicilian looking old lady than I would be comfortable with.

Not that I am otherwise comfortable shoving my groin into the face of old women of any description regardless of where they come from, I am definitely not.

Anyway after half an hour and about 10 stops the whisper had become a scream and my desire to be on time and to not end up on the sex offenders list caused me to panic and I alighted at Earl’s court.  Unable to get a phone signal I hurried to the surface still smelling of the bloke who had been pressed against me since Knightsbridge to figure out where the bloody hell I was.  It was at this point I hit an all time low for me on the tubes.

If they are crammed I will usually just let everyone go before me and wait for the next one.  That is all part of why I leave extra early and it normally means I stay relatively calm and unflustered which I think is why I enjoy London so much.

Anyway so my plan is to drop a text to the trainer and explain I am late but will get there. It’s only a course right, hardly that important.  Now at this point I dropped my bank card as I took my phone out of my pocket and bent over to pick it up.  As I do this my bag swings from my shoulder and clips a fellow rushing past me and as I stand up he glares at me with a dark and ominous scowl.  Well, this seems to trigger me and for some reason I become possessed by the devil and decide to inform him that…

“Look at me like that again mate and I’ll punch you in the throat.”

I am a little more tense than I realise and for a moment we stare at each other.  I am hoping he is thinking “Shit I better get out of here he looks a bit handy” whilst I am thinking “Oh fuck I have no idea how to fight and the last thing I smashed was a carbonara pizza and I haven’t had a fight since 1990 (and ended up sat bleeding from the nose sat in a waste paper bin on that occasion) and I should apologise probably because that is just rather inappropriate and I am not Jean-Claude-fucking-Van-Damme.”

Fortunately he was obviously also late for something and scurried off as I leaned back against the wall in relief at not having to explain that I was late for a training course on emotional resilience because I was arrested for fighting an Albanian looking backpacker in Earl’s court tube station and rubbing my crotch in an Octogenarian lemon sellers face.

After that it was plain sailing really.  I worked out where I was actually meant to be going, got there an hour late, did the course, learned a few things and convinced the trainer to let us finish the session in the pub instead of the classroom and had a couple of pints of Guinness and a Cornish pasty and a sausage roll.

Life eh…

Probably well deserved.

You’re not all special!

I popped to the engravers this morning to pick up some trophies for a rugby festival I am running tomorrow and noticed a large pile of parcels for the local grammar school.

Seems they are awarding 4 trophies for their top ‘A’ achievers, a good recognition for the ‘merit’ pupils and two very special ones indeed.

Nice to see the school telling it like it is.

Don’t go touching my chicken!

I like to just keep my hand in now and again…

My most black sorrow

Like pitch it sticks to my insides

Lungs fill with it’s acrid darkness and I choke

Spitting and cursing your name as it cooks me from within

And so serves me up on a platter of regret and guilt

As the crows feast on my eyes, devouring my soft pink tongue

And the rats feast and rutt in my rancid entrails


 

Whoah….that’s all a bit much isn’t it.

Sometimes I like to see if I can write like other people and come up with some twisted dark shit but mostly I prefer stick figures being filthy.  Guess it takes all sorts right…

asfasfasfasfasf

 

You know this might be my first attempt at a political cartoon though to be honest I think the symbolism is far too obvious.  Plus my eagle looks like a big chicken and I was a bit wary of actually drawing pictures of men having sex with gigantic birds then I thought the kids might see it and…well..so mostly the whole thing just gets a bit weird but hey, perhaps there is still a cause to be fought for out there.   Some sort of anti  American chicken fuckers alliance.  Hmm.

 Perhaps I should just go to bed.

On the street where I once lived.

I’ve been all around the world and today I stood back where it all started.

I have lived in many places, both  north and south of the equator but in the beginning there was Hull.  I left when I was 9 but there is something about the place that resonates with me still and despite the many roads that took me away from the place there is still part of me that thinks of it as home.  Perhaps it is because it fills my very earliest memories and names and places that I should have forgotten remain with me still.  Maybe it is because the accents and turns of phrase hold for me a comfort and familiarity which I cannot describe but that make me feel part of something in many ways long forgotten.

Whatever it is I always enjoy the occasions when I get to go back.  Today was one of those days when I got to met up with family on my Mum’s side to celebrate my cousin’s son’s 21st.  My mum is one of 8 and at last count there were at least 48 of us on that side of the family so there are always reunions to be had even if we don’t always remember each others names.

Whilst the day itself was great it was the detour on the way home that I enjoyed most.  I decided to go and take a look at the house I grew up in as I had heard that the estate is now mostly derelict and scheduled for demolition.  Sadly it is and the photo below shows the house now.  It is only the left hand side of it.

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So many great memories came flooding back and as sad as it is times change and things move on and whilst it was a quite wonderful place in the late seventies it’s days are now sadly numbered. I remembered old Stan from across the street who we would taunt with songs of ‘Stan stan the mucky old man washed his face in a frying pan.’  God kids are bastards.  Stood outside I could still hear the sounds of kids laughing on a late summer evening and playing ‘Kerby’ as cars passed us by.  With a smile I remembered painting the electricity box with oil paints and my dad being so angry and I could still see snow falling through the amber lights in winter.  I also remember where I was when I was told that a friend of ours had died that day.

Such a mix of emotions and memories but it was not all sad though, and in fact it turned out to be a pretty amazing trip when we saw what had been done to a number of the properties in the area.  Keep in mind that there are probably a few hundred of these places being demolished and though the memories and lives that have been lived will remain eventually there will be nothing left of themso to see what some amazing graffiti artists did to lift the place was just fantastic.

I think the photos say it all.

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The homes will be gone in 6 months and will be replaced with new builds and the hope was that there would be less chance of people vandalising them if they were decorated.  The more things change the more they stay the same I guess as eventually new families will move in and the cycle starts again.

 

24

24 posts in 24 hours. I know I know – I have no idea why either…

I do apologise terribly for filling your reader the last 24 hours.  I simply decided to do 24 posts in 24 hours because Ive never done it before.  Ive been struggling to write of late and feeling weary and just rather lethargic so I thought maybe a challenge might be good for me.  I wanted to do more but I was quite busy so didnt get to do some of the stuff I planned but such is life.  Well I think it was 24.  I think maybe I missed one but the intention was there.

🙂

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday to My Blog – The after party – clean up

My thoughts on keeping up momentum with your blog.

You might wonder why the dickens I am posting so much today, and if so all will become clear eventually.  For now though I will continue and post a little more about my experience of blogging this last year.  I wrote a bit here, and another bit here already.

In the last year I have posted almost everyday.  I did a count and in total I think I missed 30 days which isn’t bad.  That is not to say I haven’t written a lot – I have written about 1100 pieces – it’s just that I actually just like to get them posted once I have written them instead of scheduling them in some organised schedule.  I will schedule perhaps to the next day if I have a lot to post but I found that scheduling posts for say the next week took some of my focus away and made me a little complacent.

Now I don’t write for any reason other than to write and to hopefully leave something my kids will read one day and perhaps their children too.  I don’t dream of publishing a novel or changing lives or anything so noble.  I write because I love doing it and I should have been doing it for the last 30 years.

I realise this can be somewhat boom or bust at times and this week is a great example.  I have been pretty busy at work and at home and low on energy as I get used to my new diet and this ungodly warm weather so I managed maybe a post or two a day at best.  I made notes in my notebook and scribbled down ideas but that was the extent of my creativity.  By the time Friday came around I felt this surge of creativity and energy and so decided that I would do a post an hour for the next 24 hours.  Monday might be lean when it eventually comes around but for me writing is all about writing in the moment and following the urges I feel.

Now I should say that I would also advocate writing every day even if it is something small.  Keep the brain going and maintain a degree of routine and you wont find yourself slipping too far behind.  I have occasionally taken some time away and to be honest it was a bad idea.  I found it really difficult to get back to my writing as other things took up the time I put aside and I am unlikely to do anything like that again.

If you can’t be arsed with all that here are a few bullet points for you on my experience that you might find useful:

  • Keep a notebook to hand you never know when inspiration will strike.  Or text yourself.  Or write it on your hand.  I know Ive forgotten some great ideas.
  • Write something every day and you wont drift too far from your blog
  • When inspiration strikes follow the urge.  If that means ten posts in a day then sod it – do it.
  • Make time to write and ask those around you to help you stick to the schedule because creativity matters

Michael

x

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday to My Blog – The after party

My thoughts on keeping up momentum with your blog.

I wrote here a couple of weeks ago about the one year anniversary and threatened to impart a few thoughts on my year of blogging, so here you go.

My thoughts on keeping up momentum.

A lot of people seem to start out with much gusto and quite quickly falter when they realise that you wont actually get many readers at all when you first press submit.  Hitting the first year was important for me as I read that 90% of bloggers throw the towel in before they reach that point and I was determined to not be one of those.  Apparently 80% of people who hit the first year don’t make it through the second so yes, the chances of success are slim, but then again what do you regard as success?

Whether you write for pleasure or for profit I think it goes without saying, though I am going to say it, that you have to have a degree of tenacity.  You need to love what you are doing and if you do and work on your craft and engage with others then over time you will build up a following.   Perhaps that is the best you can hope for?  You can only control yourself and not others so as brilliant as you may be and as fabulous as your writing is you might just struggle at first.  I think some of my first posts had four or five views at best – and even now when I have 650 or so followers I might still only get 40 or 50 views for a piece if I’m lucky – so you have to be patient and work for the reward.

For me I have always avoided the idea of a follow for a follow.  I will check out most people who follow me in the hope that their work or they themselves are interesting – and if they are I follow – otherwise I move on.  It is not at all personal – I just like my reader feed to be full of things that I can engage in. I know of bloggers who work damned hard at flitting around from blogger to blogger liking and commenting (often with the same comments) to try and get them to follow them in return.  From what I can tell this does not necessarily create an engaged and interested following.  You reap what you sow and I think that type of insincere approach gets the same in return.  You can tell because the blogger will have a complete lack of engagement with their work despite a number of likes.  Comments aren’t everything, and people can comment without reading, but when a piece has 40 likes and no comments at all on a subject that cannot go without comment that makes me wonder.

I might be wrong but I don’t think I am.

So where was I heading with this?  Not absolutely certain but here’s a few bullet points on my thinking if you can’t be arsed to read all of the rest of my thoughts up there:

  • Write regulary.  If I follow you I want to read your stuff.  It will make you a better writer too.
  • Engage and be engaging – people can be more interesting than their work
  • Consider the length of your post.  I’m surprised you got this far.  People have a short attention span.
  • Don’t be afraid to repost earlier posts.  They are probably fab and worth another look.
  • Take joy in what you do.  It shows and it is infectious.
  • Don’t take it personally if no one likes your stuff.  It might be shit, it might be that people don’t get you.  Who cares – you’re creating stuff and that’s awesome
  • Share someone else’s work now and then.  I should do it more and will.  You should too.
  • When you think you can do it anymore or don’t want to then that is precisely when you sit your backside down and do something,  There isn’t enough creativity in the world.

I think that will do for now.  Until next time.

Michael

x

 

 

Photo courtesy of pixabay

 

 

Happy Birthday to My Blog

What a difference a year makes eh!

Just the one post today I think while I reflect on exactly one year of blogging!
It’s all a bit of a blur to be honest and mostly I thought I would just say thanks to all of you kind souls out there who have taken time to read me, comment, and provide me with such wonderful encouragement. I had no idea that I would enjoy writing as much as I have and I think it is now something I will likely have to keep doing given the pleasure I get from it.
I do want to start thanking people individually but I worry that I will forget somebody which I would not want to do. There are those who read and like and comment every day and whom I feel I now know so well and then there are those who like away merrily day after day and I do not know you at all but I remain grateful for you all taking the time to pop in.
I have taken such enjoyment from so many of your blogs too, and if I ‘like’ it then I have read it. I wish I had time to read more really.
I will write more about my year blogging later this week but for today this will be just about it I reckon, I have quite a lot on.
Thanks always
Michael x

Razor’s edge

A random ramble about things that you cant find.

I’ve never done a post where I dictate it to my phone before so I’m going to give it a go. It’s a bit of a ramble but something I thought I would share. About a year and a half ago we started some renovations on the house and we packed everything into storage. Over the last year we have unpacked everything and we are pretty much now at a point where there may be a few boxes outstanding but everything is back in the house.

Apart from my razor that is.

I had a fabulous electric razor which I used because I’m just too tight to spend the fortune on razor blades which probably explains why more often than not I have a particularly large beard.

So all the boxes have been emptied yet my razor remains unfound and it has been driving me absolutely insane. In an attempt to find it I have mostly wondered around the house grumbling and complaining looking in the same places I’ve already looked into and finding nothing.

Today I went back down into the cellar and found a small suitcase I had forgotten about. The zipper was rusted closed so I needed to use a knife to open it and behold guess what I found inside.

No not the razor that would have been easy a story wouldn’t it. I found the charger for the Razor and obviously that sent me into a complete grump and I again had a look in all the same places I’ve been looking at for the last couple of months and guess what, it’s still wasn’t there.

And then it hit me, an epiphany , a moment of clarity as I sat on the edge of the bed.  I knew exactly where it was. A year ago I placed one of those things on the back of the door which has lots of pockets in it and into those pockets I placed all the wires and cables and connections that I collected over the years and trust me it is a substantial amount.  Seeing the charger triggered something and I knew straight away that it was there on the back of the door and I walked across to it and there it was. I even knew which pocket it was in and me, my razor and my charger are now Reunited.

I know it may not seem like a big thing but lordy the relief after searching for many months.  If I was a dog I would have wheeled around on the carpet dragging my bottom behind so elated was I.

***Note to self – find the carpet cleaner and lie to wife about the state of the  hall carpet.***

It is currently charging and once it has enough charge I am looking forward to giving my beard a jolly good trim and I might even give my head a shave which is something I’ve never done before but I mean how bad can it be right, lots of people cut their own hair I’m sure.

 

 

 

On the matter of quite terrible gifts

I am not great at gift buying, a fact to which my wife will surely attest. She, on the other hand, always absolutely nails it which seems to further accentuate my inabilities. And whilst I have yet to plunge to the levels of service station flowers, socket sets or head torches I have a record of missing the mark on birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas’.

It is not a recent thing though. Only recently my mother reminded me of the time that I was given money by my dad to buy her something nice for Christmas. The story goes that I spend the majority of the money of books or comics and with what I had leftover bought her a lime green shower curtain.

Apparently she feigned some sort of appreciation as any good mother will do but thirty five years later she still recalls the event and retells the story without a great deal of mirth. She is just probably worried about what level of support she will get in her golden years from a child so wholly selfish and beastly.

When it comes to Mrs Michael, I admit that too often in the past have I resorted to the old staples of books, CD’s, jewellery etc so two years ago I figured I would try to make up for it and buy her something both practical, fabulous and unique at the same time.

Mindful of how regularly I am still regularly reminded of the time I bought her a number of vegetarian cook books I headed to Kick Starter to find her something no one else would have. For those not familiar Kick Starter is all about investing in the ideas of people and helping them bring something to market.

So after some browsing and thorough investigations I invested in YECUP, a picture of which you can see below. Given how much she enjoys a cup of tea, and how much of the winter she spends standing on the touch line of a rugby pitch in winter I figured it would be perfect.

So what is it I hear you ask? Well, the Yecup is a thermos cup that had a built in heating and cooling element so can warm or cool your beverage. How amazing is that! No? Yeah you see this is where it all started to go wrong because I said it was and she seemed wholly underwhelmed. It might have been because I insisted she needed to be careful to not get it wet because of the built in electrics and we live in the third wettest part of the UK. Maybe.

All hope wasn’t lost though and I informed her that not only would it keep here warm drinks warm it also had a port to enable her to charge her phone. She asked whether it needed a cable to do that and I explained yes of course. The idea of sheltering her mug from the rain whilst plugging it into her phone was, I admit, not a great selling point. Neither was the fact that it can be charged wirelessly which I thought was quite fabulous.

(You know, the more I write about this the more I realise just how shit I am at gifts.)

Buy now my hopes that there will be fabulous grateful birthday sex is fast waning so I decide to play my last card in the hope of recovering the situation but it turns out that she was less enamoured than I had expected by the idea of it also having an App that could be installed on her phone to allow her to control the temperature or change the colour of the build in LED lights.

Oh, I forgot but there was also the small matter of the item not actually being available due to delays in China so it arrived over a year late in the middle of the summer. Also turns out it is absolutely massive and quite thin so has a rather phallic feel to it. No one wants to be know as that woman who always looks like she’s eagerly guzzling latte from a big silver cock.

You know, thinking about it, this might be why, no matter how early I think about gifts for whichever special occasion it is, she always seems to have just ordered something from me and it’s always just what she wanted.

Still, I absolutely love it and I got a nice cup out of it in the end so happy days 😉

What do you see?

A moment of your time please…

I seem to be having a few problems with WordPress at the moment. Just yesterday I was told that I no longer had a follow button on my website because I had chosen to add a widget. What sort of world is it where you would have a Blog but not have the option for somebody to follow it? Honest. Today though I’m just wondering whether you would mind leaving me a comment if you read this post as to what you saw when you were trying to get to it. Is it like everybody elses blog where you see a link in the reader and you click on it and you’re taken to the piece that I have written? Or, more annoyingly, do you see a link similar to the one in the header and below which asks you to follow a link to view the post.

A seemingly unnecessary second click to get to the peace that I have written. If you wouldn’t mind just letting me know what you saw and maybe whether you were in the reader or finding my post another way say perhaps through an email . It would be most appreciated because the WordPress happiness engineers seem to be really struggling to help me with this.

Worse things happen at sea

I’m just kidding. Honest.

There’s a saying that runs in our family, coming from fishing stock as I do, and it goes something along the lines of “Worse things happen at sea.”  It’s pretty patronising and somewhat dismissive and gets trotted out most often when you bemoan a situation that the other person couldn’t give a monkey’s chuff about.

“Mom I’ve banged my knee…”

“Oh it’s just a scratch, worse things happen at sea son.”

with me?

 

Thing is there comes a point though when through indifference and old age I am finding it becoming my standard response to even more serious situations and it has me thinking that perhaps things really were quite terrible at sea and granddad was a quiet man not because of all the time he spent out on the water but because of all the awful things that must have befallen him.

Should my kids want sympathy then you know, I want to see a leg dangling limp with bone sticking through the skin because I am pretty sure something worse happened to granddad Tom at sea and it probably involved biting down hard on something and crying for his dead mother.

Should they be feeling a little blue then I find myself resisting a fatherly hug but instead insisting that it is considerably more taxing out on the waves and that they should pull themselves together, pack their bags and stop crying over being put up for adoption because it is just a waste of good tears and they should keep them for the orphanage because they’re going to need them.

I know it may seem harsh but I tell you, they just don’t make them like those salty sea dogs do they.

Mission Primary – Part 7

Seems a nice day for it.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene.

I’m going to tie them to M’s prompts this month.  The prompt was “It went off with a bang and a hiss”.  What followed was this.


Part 1 can be found here.  

Part 2 can be found here.

Part 3 can be found here.

Part 4 can be found here.

Part 5 can be found here.

Part 6 can be found here.

Sylvester sat in his favourite chair and watched, mouth wide and bowels churning as the end of the world arrived. His first thoughts as he watched events on the television unfold was that it was a Tuesday, and if  Armageddon was going to arrive on any day his money would not have been on a Tuesday.  If he was a gambling man, which he was not, he would likely have plumped for a Friday afternoon because Friday was wholly more interesting as a day than a Tuesday and far more likely to deliver events of interest.  Even a Monday would have been worth a few dollars as a side bet given its position as one of the least favourite days but no, he would most definitely not have picked a Tuesday.

“Charlotte” he called shifting uncomfortably in his chair, “Charlotte I think you might want to come through and take a look at this.”

“Must I really” his wife replied from the kitchen sounding a little flustered.  “I really want to get these pies in the oven.  Can’t it wait?”  She was a patient woman for the most part but his constant hollering from the comfort of his chair made her want to smother him in his sleep.

Sylvester continued to watch the television and turned up the volume.

“That’s a bit loud” Charlotte shouted.  He really needed to wear his hearing aid more often.  She paused for a moment listening.  “Did they just say something about an attack?” She asked.  Sylvester did not reply.  “Sylvester, what’s going on?” she shouted.  “Sylvester?”

“Confound it woman” he snapped turning in his chair and shouting back across to the kitchen , “you need to come and look damn it.  The pies can wait.”

He heard the oven close and his silver haired wife shuffled through from the kitchen, her ‘Grandma Knows Best’ apron covered in flour and wiping her hands on a dish cloth.

“Oh my” she said looking at the screen as she approached, her face a mix of shock and confusion.  “Is that a…?” Her voice trailed off.  She sat forward and then spoke again.  “Are they..?” she continued but again she didn’t quite have the words and they were left hanging in the air more in hope more than expectation

“Ahuh” Sylvester replied as Charlotte sat down slowly in the chair next to him.

“And what are all those red dots on the map?” she asked pointing to the screen as a graphic flashed across it.

“Same thing all across the planet” Sylvester answered quite matter of fact.  “Looks like this is it Lottie…”

Charlotte picked up the Bible from the small table next to her chair, placed in it her lap and folded her hands together on tip of it.  “I don’t think this is in the Good Book.” She said without turning towards Sylvester, her eyes fixed on the screen.  “What’s going on Sylvester?” She asked.

“End of the world, that’s what it is” He answered standing up and heading over to the drinks cabinet.

“On a Tuesday?” she asked shaking her head.  “Make mine a double.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mission Primary – Part 6

Beyond the moon.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words only. I’m less strict about that now. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene.

I’m going to tie them to M’s prompts this month.  The prompt was “Time blossomed then shrivelled”.  The idea filled head with thoughts of time passing and age and forgetting the important things that have gone before.


Part 1 can be found here.  

Part 2 can be found here.

Part 3 can be found here.

Part 4 can be found here.

Part 5 can be found here.

Henderson looked out into the void of space, the moon now disappearing into the distance as the Callista prepped for her faster than light jump.

“FTL Jump in twenty” barked the Comms, the service deck eerily quiet save for the odd scurry of activity in prep for her first leg on the journey back home.

“We had to, you know that right” came a voice, causing him to start.  It was one he recognised and one that made his stomach churn and his fists clench.  “Marcus told me you’d were down here.”

Henderson turned around and stood to attention.  “Captain, yes sir” he answered, shoulders and chin up.

“Carl, at ease” Grenville said, “It’s just you and me you can drop the Captain shit.”

“You had to?  Really?” Henderson snapped.  “Christ on a bike James do you have any idea how many people you just fried?”  He took a step towards the officer, fists still clenched.

“You think I don’t know that?” Grenville replied, “You think I did this without a thought for those that might still be alive down there?  You know as well as I do that if that thing gets off planet all the colonies will suffer the same fate.”

“There were people we could have saved, we could have helped them still.”

Grenville paused, loosened his jacket and pointed out across the deck towards where the moon.  “You know I’m second generation colony Carl, you know I probably still have people down there just like you do.”

“Then why the hell couldn’t you wait?” he asked turning to face him.  “I guess you’re going to tell me you were following orders.”

Grenville looked old.  Older than he ought to.  He was barely recognisable from the man he had known for so many years – and as a boy for as many before that – and that he had served under on the Juliana, the Aiden and now on the Callista.

He put a hand on his shoulder.  “So what now James” he said turning to look back out into space.  He wanted to help, to tell him it was okay but it wasn’t.  They weren’t kids anymore and sometimes you needed to knwo that things weren’t going to be alright.

“We’ve burned the earth’s atmosphere, saved the colonies and now we head home to a heroes welcome?” he said sarcastically.

Grenville buttoned up his jacket again and sighed.  “It’s not quite over yet Carl” he said, a new sadness in his voice.

“Command are still nervous and despite wiping out every living thing they’ve just sent new orders.”

Henderson balled his fists.  “Why the hell are you telling me this James, why me?  Serious don’t you have a first officer or a dozen senior officers you could tell?”

Grenville turned to walk away and then stopped, pausing before speaking again.

“Five minutes after we jump the entire store of Fed nova clusters in the bunkers just outside Berlin, Shanghai, Los Angeles and Singapore will detonate and rip the whole damn planet to pieces.”

“My god James, I don’t want to know okay.” Henderson snapped, his eyes wide and nostrils flared.  “Just do what you have to okay and leave me be.  Please.”

Without turning around Grenville headed off towards the service deck exit.

“Sorry Carl” Grenville said and the service deck blast door began to close and the comms confirmed 5 minutes to FTL jump.  “I’m just sorry…”