December 5 - The Remote's Gone

Sorry, I'm taking the lazy route ;)

* * *

“What are you watching, anything good?”

She turned her head and peered at him over the rim of her glasses.  “Not really.  TLC's running a Say Yes to the Dress marathon.”

“Really?! And you're watching it?”

Settling down into the overstuffed chair, he turned his attention to the T.V.  “Surely there must be something better on.  Give me the remote, I'll find us something decent.”

“I would…but the remote's gone.”

* * *

December 4 - Star

With a prompt like "star," it was hard not to go Christmas themed, but I prevailed.  Hope you enjoy.

* * * 

The concert was ending, the final encore performed on stage.  Already, audience members headed for the exits, wanting to beat the crush of cars at the exit, on the freeway, make it home in decent time. In the dark of a moonless night, next to a nondescript door, away from the bright lights of the packed parking lot, a lone girl stood, shivering in her micro mini, thin pleather jacket pulled tight over sequined halter top, wobbling on the ice pick heels of thigh high boots.  Huddling further into her jacket, she crowded the side of the building, hoping for some relief from the late fall winds sloughing past.  

It won’t be long now, she comforted herself with the imagined warmth of the waiting tour bus.  In mere moments she expected the doors beside her to burst open as roadies carted out the band’s equipment.  Then he would follow.  The man whose image grazed her bedroom walls in posters too numerous to count.  Even now, she tunelessly hummed his latest hit, imagining his throaty voice in her ear, singing just for her alone.  Any moment now, he will walk through those doors.  She’ll catch his eye.  And she knows that’s all it’ll take.  That’s all it took for her, from the moment she saw his picture, heard his first song.  It didn’t matter that he was a pop star with hit records, Grammy awards, and traveled the world; that she was a small town girl, living with her mother and little brother in a double wide trailer.  It didn’t matter they had nothing in common.  His songs told her just how much he understood her.  All it would take, she knew, was one meeting, one smile, one hello, and she’d be invited on that warm tour bus, whisked off to her bright future.

Any moment now, and those doors would open.  Her future would begin.  Any moment.

* * *

Till next time,

L

December 3 - Suicide

I grew up the moment I heard the news.  Until then, I was still child-like, innocent, with not a care in the world.  Then my world was shattered by one selfish act.  I do not purport to try to understand what you were going through, to know why.  I will never know why.  But had you seen the devastation you left behind, the rivers of tears, would you have chosen differently?

I am no longer the same person I was before that day, that hour, that minute.  I yearn to know why, but there are no answers.  There will never be answers, though I am starting to suspect we have inherited more than our eye colour, hair colour, facial features.  I begin to understand we both inherited the same flawed genes.  The very ones that influenced your choices that morning.  As I grow closer to the age you were, I wonder, are there enough differences between you and I, both poised on either end of the sibling spectrum, to ensure I’ll make different choices, that my outcome will be different from yours.  Or am I doomed to the genetic makeup we both share.

I hope that I can learn from your choices, your actions.  Then it will not have all been in vain.

December 2 - Family

All was quiet that cold wintry morning.  A blanket of freshly fallen snow muffled the tires of passing cars on the street below.  Thin, watery light filtered through frosted windows, and the little sleeping girl rolled over in bed and woke slowly, eyes fluttering open, arms and legs flinging out in a morning stretch.  A huge smile broke upon her face as she realized what day it was.  Leaping from bed, she stuffed her feet into little, pink knitted slippers and trailed her pink robe behind her as she crept down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone.  Wanting to be the first to see.

Peeking around the living room door, her brown eyes widened in wonder.  Packed under the gaily decorated Christmas tree were piles and piles of brightly wrapped gifts, many caring the nametag “From Santa.”

“He came, he came, he came!”  She could contain her jubilation no longer, jumping into the room and shouting aloud, wanting her brothers and mom and dad to awaken, now, now, now so the presents could be opened.  She couldn’t wait to see if Santa had brought her the doll she asked for and the toy pony.

Pounding on the stairs heralded the arrival of her older brothers, pushing their way into the living room to exclaim over the presents, looking for their names, shaking promising looking boxes, trying to decipher what lay within.

Their clamour woke mom and dad, who joined them around the Christmas tree, yawning sleepily while tying robe sashes.

One present only, mom declared, then breakfast must be eaten, before Grandma and Grandpa arrived to open the rest of the gifts and sit down to turkey dinner.  The children scrambled about the tree, wanting just the right gift to open first.  One from mom and dad?  No, probably clothing.  Best to open one from Santa, better odds it’d be a toy, something to ooh and aah over, play with at the breakfast table.  While the children picked their one present to open now, dad turned on the Christmas tree lights, pressed play on the little stereo.  Familiar carols drifted out of the speakers and three siblings took to the floor in perfect crossed leg imitation of each other, a gift held impatiently in their laps.  

“Now?” they cried.

“Now,” declared their parents settling down on the couch, and paper was torn.

Trying something new

I've been away from blogging for a while, so in the interest of getting back into it, I'm going to try something new.  I'm not so much into writing book reviews these days, as I am in just writing generally, so I'm going to attempt to follow these daily writing prompts for the month of December.  Sort of exercise the old writing muscle if you will.  The list can be found here:

December Writing Prompt

Today's prompt, for December 1 is "battery operated."  Had to get my mind out of the gutter for this one, lol.  Here's a clean, and banal scene prompted by "battery operated."  Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

* * *

“What are you watching, anything good?”

She turned her head and peered at him over the rim of her glasses.  “I was catching up on Downton Abbey.  They’re airing past seasons’ episodes in anticipation of the new, and final, season.”

“When does it start?” he queried, easing down into the overstuffed arm chair.

“In the New Year.”

Settling back, he turned his attention to the T.V.  “But what’s this? Doesn’t look like our friends the Crowley’s, or their downstairs help.”

“It isn’t.  Downton Abbey ended a while ago.  Now it’s some infomercial or request for donations or something.”

He gazed at the T.V. for a few minutes.  “Why are you watching this dreck?  Change the channel.  There must be something better than this on.”

“I would…but the remote died.”

* * * 

Till next time, 

L

 

On Reading the Little House Series

A few months ago I discovered my city's public library had copies of the 1970s TV series Little House on the Prairie on DVD.  I LOVED that show as a kid.  It was a big family event in our household when we all gathered around the TV in the living room to watch each week's episode.  It was one of the few happy moments I spent with my family growing up, so the series holds very special memories for me.

As I slowly made my way through all nine seasons of the show I started to think about the books it was based upon.  Something I hadn't given much thought to as a child.  I remember in about fourth grade reading the book, from which the TV series took it's name, and having to write a book report on it.  At the time I hated doing book reports and I hated the book.  It was long, and boring, and nothing like the show I was sitting down to watch on TV week to week.  So I thought it was probably high time I rediscovered this series because it's a classic and I'm a bit of a book snob about reading and appreciating the classics.

Well the TV show still had little to do with the books, save for the main characters and a few incidents in the real life of Laura Ingalls and family.

                                               (the real Laura Ingalls Wilder)


And it took me a while to get into the books.  I kept waiting for Nelly Oleson and Laura to break out into a cat fight, or Mr. Oleson to give a rather inspired zinger in reply to Mrs. Oleson's latest rant, or Mr. Edwards to come singing down the wagon road.  These characters do show up in the books, but very briefly as the Ingalls family moved around a lot more in real life than they ever did in the TV show.  Still, the family values remained, and the historical details were far more fascinating to grown up me, than they had ever been to fourth grader me.  But to be perfectly honest, I didn't really start absolutely loving the series until the last three or so books when Laura is older, a young woman with a budding romance with one Almanzo Wilder.  But that's just the romantic in me showing it's preference in reading material.

If you never read this series, or did once upon a time in your childhood, why not pick them up and visit or revisit them again?  They are definitely reading time well spent.

Till next time, happy reading!
L :)

On Reading The Iliad

A woman in one of my book clubs started reading one of those 100 greatest books list that are frequently found on the internet.  Each month she's talked about her progress from The Great Gatsby, which was number one on the list, to Anna Karenina, which was taking her forever to get through.  She is determined to read every single one of the books on the list.  Her goal intrigued me, so much so that I started Googling 100 greatest books of all time searches but was never satisfied with the results.  Especially when many of the lists had 50 Shades of Grey on them.  Okay, I admit, I read the series and will see the movie, but greatest book of all time it is not!  The book snob has spoken and passed judgement!  Be warned, ye list makers!

Then I got to perusing my unread book shelves and noticed I'd picked up a copy of Clifton Fadiman's The New Lifetime Reading Plan some months ago because I love books about books and flipping through it I figured it's a far better compilation of worthy books to read than some of the lists I was finding on the good ole WWW.

Hence we come to Homer's The Iliad, the second book listed (the first being the Epic of Gilgamesh which I read earlier this year).  I had always wanted to read Homer but always shied away.  I have this prevailing thought in my head that old, classic books are way difficult to read and will take months and months to slough through (okay, true of the Russians, but not necessarily true of everything else as I'm slowly realizing). 

I chose to read Stephen Mitchell's translation, which uses such plain English the reading of Homer is turning out to be a breeze.  Except for the fact it has a gazillion Greek and Trojan names to stumble over and the battle scenes seem to go on forever.  Despite all that, I'm really enjoying it.  Especially Homer's turn of phrase, and his use of metaphor to paint a vivid picture of the movements of the troops and gods.  What is starting to get on my nerves though is the childish behaviour of the immortals and the sulking Achilles.  Really folks, time to grow up!  Of course, the same could be said of the Greeks who started the war because Paris made off with the one guy's wife.  Really, I get that Helen was beautiful and all, but was she worth 10 years of bloodshed?  I'm thinking not.  Guess it makes for a decent story though.

Till next time, happy reading!
L :)