Rest
Today.
Tomorrow
Nips at our heels
With troubles
That can
Wait.
~kat ~ 25 October 2015
A “Sept” is a seven line poem with the following syllable pattern: 1-2-3-4-3-2-1.
Monthly Archives: October 2015
Second-Hand Annie-Sunday Photo Fiction
Photo Credit: a mixed bag 2015
She was a collector of old things, spending her days at curiosity shops, antique barns and second-hand stores. Something of a legend, the townsfolk had nicknamed her Second Hand Annie and it was said that if Annie was spotted at your establishment, you would have a successful selling day.
But it had been weeks since anyone had seen Annie. After several concerned inquiries, the sheriff decided to check on her.
The house stood quietly on an acre of overgrown farmland. Its wrap-around porch stacked to the eaves with pollen-dusted, rusty treasures.
When Annie didn’t answer the door, he let himself in, barely, a pile of books and magazines blocked the entrance. Once inside, he was amazed and horrified. Each nook and cranny was filled from floor to ceiling with Annie’s collection. And there was a familiar, pungent odor hanging in the air. The sheriff knew it well. Poor Annie had passed away.
According to her wishes an auction was held with the proceeds used to build a library. Seems she had a good eye for the value of “junk”.
People come from miles around to see the magnificent library that Annie built. The legacy of a woman who never learned to read.
~kat -25 October 2015
(200 Words)
This story is an entry for the Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge. Read more stories or add your own story HERE.
Sunday Week in Review -25 October 2015
What an interesting week! When it began I didn’t know that my life would be changing by week’s end. Yet here I am on the other side with another little soul to care for. Lucy is home with us now. There was also the closing of a chapter, but not of a dream. The dream lives in the words spilled out on the “pages” of this blog.
I learned a new poetry style, the “sept” which I truly enjoy, and I learned a new word that I shall likely never use. But that being said, I am glad to have learned it. Life is about always learning and transition and change.
Would it be an overstatement to say that a lifetime was packed into this short seven days? Perhaps. But that is how eternity works. 🙂
If you’re new to this blog, a bit of background to explain the verse below. It is a line from each poem or prose from the previous week. Lifted and placed in the order written. A snapshot review of the week. It helps me clean the slate…reflect and ready myself for the new week.
Have a wonderful week ahead. I’ll see you on the other side 🙂
Week in Review ~ 25 October 2015
Hearts exposed
Fulfilling
Hopes and
Dreams
Separate
Once, now
One.
it’s okay to grieve.
‘midst the din of rousing cheers!
I can listen
in silence we knew
In lay terms, he was a butterfly chaser!
souls sucked deep into the grid
It will change their life…and yours!
Apply coercive herd management techniques if necessary.
one really can’t blame him for his scheme!
How audacious of me to think it, but oh, if it could be me she chooses!”
Icing on the cake.kat ~ 25 October 2015
Convive – Friday’s Word of the Day Haiku
Well this was a tricky word. My usual Google search brought up French, Spanish and Latin variations of this word but little in the way of English definitions or examples except for what Dictionary.com provided. So for the sake of this exercise I give you Convive – Haiku. (Though not sure I’ll use this word again…poor Convive! Please don’t take it personally, but I get confused with nouns that look like verbs 🙂 )
Convive – A Haiku
After a fine meal
The convives enjoyed dessert
Icing on the cake.
kat ~ 23 October 2015
Dream House
I am posting this piece as a special request for a friend. Several months back I did the craziest thing! Well, some of you might not think it crazy, but for me it was one of those step to the edge, spread your wings moments.
Late one night in July, I learned about a writing contest. This was no ordinary contest. For a nominal entry fee and 250 words, someone would be selected to be the new innkeepers and owners of a bed and breakfast that was located only 20 miles from where I currently Iive. It was always a dream of mine to do such a thing…to be hostess to a house full of guests, but my finances never allowed me to consider such a lofty dream.
The way these things work, the current owners needed to receive a minimum number of essays (entrance fees) in order to cover the cost of the house. The first deadline came and went the first part of September, with an extension added for submissions. And alas, the second deadline is now upon us and the owners did not receive enough submissions to break even. I received notification that my entry fee was being refunded back to me. The house is now on the market to be sold in the traditional way.
Of course I’m disappointed, but through it all, I am so glad that I took the plunge…that I paid the fee, wrote the essay and then had the gumption to actually submit it! I learned that it is never too late to dream. And most importantly, that I still have a few dreams left in me. We can forget that sometimes when life becomes too busy or when we are in survival mode.
Anyhow…my friend asked me to post the essay. If the stars had aligned, who knows, it could have been me who won!
ESSAY TOPIC: “What owning a bed and breakfast would mean to you?”
“To be owned by a grand old home is perhaps one of life’s greatest treasures. You know you are smitten when first you catch a glimpse of her in the distance. At that moment it won’t matter what the weather is doing, or the traffic. That first look will stop your heart for a moment, then send it into a flutter as you take it all in…her foliage adorned walkway, her sprawling wrap-around porch, her door, and her windows, coyly draped in flowing tapestries, revealing just enough to tease you into coming inside. That first step onto her century-worn wood plank floors, will feel like comfortable shoes, surrendering under your feet, moaning occasionally as you venture in.
To be owned by a house grand as this, requires a sensitive soul. One who sees her virtues and understands the generous nature of her spirit. She is happiest when filled with love and laughter. When her hearth glows warm red and her kitchen is filled with the aroma of brewing coffee and sweet cinnamon. She longs to nurture friendships, provide harbor against storms, and to become a sweet memory to those she has welcomed into her parlor and nestled in her bed chambers.
I know of such a place. Her name is Claiborne. In the heart of the lush Blue Ridge foothills, she waits for a new custodian to fill her dance card. How audacious of me to think it, but oh, if it could be me she chooses!”
Keep dreaming my fellow WordPressers! 🙂
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