Category Archives: Essays

Al Desko – Friday’s Word of the Day Haibun

al desko

Today’s Dictionary.com word of the day…Al Desko…is patterned after al fresco and was first used in the 1980’s. Its facetious meaning alludes to eating a meal at one’s desk in an office: always snacking al desko; having an al desko lunch.

aldesko

Here’s a look at my al desko lunch today, as a matter of fact. It’s not much different any other week day, though the menu changes slightly. I get 30 minutes of unpaid time for lunch. But most days, the lunch hour is exactly the time when my boss needs me to write notes from the morning’s meetings or prepare presentations for the afternoon meetings. It is a rare thing for me to even leave me desk in the course of an 8-1/2 to 9 hour day; rarer still to actually finish my soup while it is still warm. But today is a good day. The boss is flying as I type somewhere over the Rockies, so I am enjoying an uninterrupted break.

We are work-a-holics here in the US. The sad truth is we are encouraged to work long hours, and do, with the hopes of gaining the boss’s attention. Positive notice is what it takes to ace an evaluation which translates into a favorable raise, not the minimum pittance required for breathing, and positions one for future opportunities as a person who “works hard and gets the job done”. Sadly, though loyalty is a thing oft cited in great reviews, companies are loath to return the favor.

I’m exhausted just thinking about it. And yet I acquiesce to”the man” hoping that I might one day be able to afford to retire. It is highly unlikely that I ever will, but I like saying the word retire and thinking that I might have a shot at it. Especially now that I’ve passed the 60’s mark.

I’m sorry. I’m afraid I have digressed a bit. The word of the day al desko has nothing to do with retiring. But here I sit, eating my healthy store-bought soup, heated in the office breakroom, with my little bag of goldfish and a cup of ice water. Dining al desko, catching up on Facebook and WordPress. Checking the news and the weather; glad that I brought my umbrella in from my car this morning. It’s going to rain this afternoon.

I’ll leave this desk around 5:30 or so, squinting as I emerge from the building at seeing the light of day outside for the first time in hours. A quick 15-20 minute trip in traffic will deposit me home where I will feed my pets, grab a bit of grub myself and then settle in for the night. All to start again at 6 am next morning when I will get up…feed the pets…and pack another al desko lunch to tide me over mid-day.

I’m shaking my head as I read this back to myself. I really do need to step away from my desk at least once during the day. It occurs to me…I need a life! 😉 At least I have words and writing to sooth the lunacy. Blogging has saved me. 🙂

Have a great week. Step away from the keyboard every now and again. You deserve it. (I say this, hoping that I’ll remember to take my own advice!)

work-a-holics dine
on bagged lunches and take-out
al desko gourmets

~kat


Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 16 July 2017


I think of loss when I think of 2017. Loss of friends and family to the great chasm forged by the US election. Loss of safety in a land whose people feel emboldened to hate, discriminate and dismiss others not white, privileged or born here. Loss of the ideals that once bound us all; things like truth, honor, common decency, compassion, empathy and kindness. Loss of hope that I will have security in retirement…scratch that…I am resigned to the fact that I shall likely need to work for some company who cares only about profit margins and synergy savings and downsizing, until I die.

It all feels pretty grim. And yet I resist. I fight for what I believe is right and good and true. I extend a reed from the sharp edges of my bleeding heart, hoping to bridge the divide between me and those I never stopped loving. I dream of a day when religion is not used as a weapon and laws are not written to discriminate and exclude, but to serve all and protect. I tread lightly on the precious soil beneath my feet, leaving tiny footprints, though others may trample our mother’s green places, spewing poison in her waterways. I try to be good. To repay malice with kindness; avarice with generosity. To be a flicker of light in the growing darkness. To love and not hate.

I wonder how much more I can lose and still survive. And yet, I am still here living and breathing through things I was certain would break me.

But I am not broken. I have a heart that beats, and a conscience that sings me to sleep each night. I have an inner light that stirs me every day to press on. And so I do.

There is comfort in knowing that I am not alone. That there are others like me who wrestle with darkness. Who speak the truth. Who love unconditionally. Who care for the least of us. When I start to feel weary I remember the good and goodness that exists.

Sometimes losing everything helps us realize what is most important. It helps us let go of the things that were never ours to hold, bringing us to our truest self. It lightens our load for the long journey home.

While I’m not home yet, I think I know the way. Following the light is all it takes. Just follow the light. Just follow the light.

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 16 July 2017

remember the good
maybe
purr in rhapsody, the muse
filled to brim longing
most comes to mind, not amusing
when the tree bough breaks
dressed in eerie blue
welcome us in death
like diamonds
and dragons…
you are from eden
tiny gift
to the day

~kat

A shi sai or ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the shi sai features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Fête -Friday’s Word of the Day


I know it’s Saturday. It took sleeping on Friday’s Word of the Day to come up with a Haiku considering the bitter irony of its timing.

Fête is defined at dictionary.com as:
In noun form: a festive celebration or entertainment; a day of celebration; holiday; a religious feast or festival; a fete lasting several days in honor of a saint; and as a verb: to entertain at or honor with a fete: to fete a visiting celebrity.

It came to us from the French, according to The Online Etymology Dictionary, in 1754, from French fête “festival, feast,” from Old French feste “feast, celebration” (see feast (n.)). If the date is right, first used in English by Horace Walpole (1717-1797). fete (v.) 1819, from fete (n.). Related: Feted; fetes; feting.

So the timing of the word makes perfect sense! France? Bastille Day? Ah hah! I get it! Of course!

Except…on Thursday, in my world, I was graveside at the funeral of the beloved husband of a friend and Friday? Well, Friday found me at the veterinary office saying goodbye to my 17 and a half year old rescue dog, Lucy.

So you can imagine I was in no mood for fetes of any kind on Friday, or so I thought at first glance. But then I began to embrace the word and found comfort in it.


I thought about the happy reunions that happened in clusters at the graveside on Thursday as family members and friends, separated by distance and time, embraced. And there were sermons and songs that promised the joy to be found by the departed in the beyond; a Fete of heavenly proportions and happy reunions with those who had passed before and would be waiting to greet him. Whether one is a believer in heaven or not, the comfort it gives those who do believe is lovely to witness.


Then on Friday, I considered how the joyous memories of happier, healthier times held me as I helped my little dog take her final trip “across the rainbow”, as they say, in peace and dignity. A life well lived is much to be feted! And Lucy was a diva and a queen while she lived. I smile to think of her, a 10 pound shitzu bossing around her 180 pound mastiff brother! She was a force! Her life was a fête!

So, this is your Haiku, a day late, for Friday’s Word of the Day. Maybe not what you were expecting, given it’s definition, but every bit as relevant to me given the circumstances of my real life week, kissed by irony.

mourners imagine
joyous fêtes beyond the veil
welcome us in death

~kat


Arting and Humming  

My twins, coloring. ~kat

Mostly, I remember the smells…of linseed oil and turpentine, earthen clay and play dough. I can lose myself inside the lid of a fresh box of crayons. If I close my eyes I can imagine the sensation of finger paint, creamy cool between my fingers, and the sublime feeling of peeling elmer’s glue “skin” embossed with lines and creases from the palms of my hands. My introduction to art was a sensual, tactile experience.

Nowadays, I hum when I make art. I’m not sure why. It is not usually a recognizable tune; more like a droning purr of random notes. I suspect it is my left brain overflowing; bits of my soul released to be splashed onto a canvas, sculpted in clay, or scribbled on a page. I’ve been accused of being a bit crazy because of the humming. Or maybe it just drives others crazy because they can’t hear the music. All I do know, or am, at the very least, most certain of, is that art and music make me happy and touches the core of my being in ways that I can’t describe. So I hum and I art.

art by numbers
left-brain daubs inside the lines
magnum opus dreams
right-brain wild synapses
purr in rhapsody, the muse

~kat

For Colleen’s Taibun/Tanka Tuesday, prompt words Art and Music (Rhapsody).


Twittering Tale #40 – 11 July 2017

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About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a prompt, and your mission, if you choose to play along, is to tell a story based on that prompt in 140 characters or less. If you accept the challenge, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale.

A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing us a new prompt. Have Fun!

Twittering Tale #39 – The Round Up

 

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Photo by Ottavio at Pixabay.com

From Michael at Morpethroad:
I’ve bits not functioning as designed
I’m falling apart
grey and decrepit.
Once I could run for buses,
No more.
I sit watch and await,
a miracle.

(140 Characters)

From Kathryn at AnotherFoodieBlogger:
The bridge was in a lot better shape when I hid the stash under it two years ago, but we really need the money. Just two more ste… SPLASH!

From Through My Heart’s Web at Soul Connection:
Two Strangers..
You Sure We Can Walk On This?
You Follow Me.
Why You Stopped?
To Kill You
Leave Me
Are You Scared
Let Me Go

From Lady Lee at Lady Lee Manila:
In the journey of life
Who says it is smooth sailing?
Rough roads and broken bridges
Stepping stones or barriers?
Shall we take the challenge?

From Reena at ReInventions:
“I admire optimism. It takes courage to build it, and then allow gaps”, said the sarcastic boss. He did not know the trap was laid for him.
(139 characters)

From Di at Pensitivity101:
“What the hell’s got into you?
Last week you had me climbing pylons. Now you want me to cross this?
Sibling rivalry sucks. Forget it!”
(132 characters)

From Jane at Jane Dougherty Writes:
Hefty foxhounds scrabble at the broken boards, baying as the whipper in calls them off. Fox on the far bank flicks his brush and disappears.

From Vaidehi at Young Mind:
Little feet walking on the bridge.Bags on shoulders and lives on risk.To some getting educated has a huge cost to give.It is worth it?

From Weena at Teleporting Weena:
Rotted wood and rusty wire
Explosion proves Devil’s a liar
No escaping Demon’s pyre
Now situation classified dire

From Irena at Books and Hot Tea:
Not real, they said.
But when she ran, shadows followed.
Then path became a broken bridge.
Abyss underneath, not as scary as her illusions.
(138 characters)

From Willow at WillowDot21:
Broken that’s what they called her, no longer intact. She knew when she found the bridge and felt safe. A few more steps, then peace
{140 Characters}

From Sight11 at Journey:
Standing to support
It is now standing alone
Broken and shattered
It falls..
Ready to be embraced
By its enemy standing below..

From Sandi at Flip Flops Every Day:
Get to the other side?
Got to build damn thing ourselves
obviously attempt was made by another
Yeah, but not successfully
ended in their demise

From Riya at AestheticGraphy:
My life hasn’t always been what I wished it to be
Wrong situations
But I know this
A dash of hope and huge leap in faith is all i need.
Character Limit: 139

From Peter at Peter’s Pondering:
They’d met at the bridge all those years ago. She thought love would last forever. Now the bridge was broken, just like all his promises!
(138 characters)

From Sangbad at Thoughts of Words…a quote and a tale:
In the darkness of pessimistic lies the optimistic. Dig Out & Discover a New You…
Sangbad

Those are gaps, Dad…no, honey, look like this they are optimistic portal…see the shade there, it’s where the belief in yourself lies…
[140 Characters]

From Kitty at Kitty’s Verses:
Five..Four..Three..Two..One..Come out of your hiding place between the rocks, short fins.I can see you from up here, grunted amphy, the frog.
Exactly 140 characters.

From Edwin at Edwin’s Journal:
“Mommy, I’m really scared.”
“Don’t worry dear; you won’t fall. Think that we are crossing a dimension filled with adventurous realities.”

From Francine at Woman Walks Dog:
Magic herb down there growing in the ravine, the weird woman says. Makes you ever-so happy.
I’ll keep watch up here, you go down OK.  Careful the bridge is cracking      oh    no !

And…starting us off…here’s my little tale:
“Where’s Sophie?! Oh god!”
“It won’t hold you Sue. See if she’ll come back to you.”
“Come to mommy Sophie. Come…”
“Sophie…no!”

“Got her!”

NICE! Everyone. Your imaginations really spanned a reach of possibilities. Just as I had imagined, some of you were quite retrospective in your takes. Those are always so interesting. And then there was a host of fun tales where more than a few ended up in the drink. There were adventurers and critters and sibling rivals. Bravo! I loved every single character of your 140 character tales. Thank you again and again for joining me each week to have a go at the challenge. I’m hearing that tweeting is still all the rage these days. We are on the cutting edge no doubt. 😉

On to this week’s challenge. I found this interesting closeup of a vinyl record. You know, these are making a comeback. I remember when cassettes evolved into 8 tracks and then CDs came out. It was the CDs that blew us away. The sound was so crisp and clear. Of course, now we have digital. Nary a blip of noise to adulterate the pure sound of a recording. But there is something special about the scratchy background drone and skipping pops of a vinyl record. The sound of the needle when it first touches the surface; that dull, crescendoing popping noise. It is mesmerizing, almost magical.

Your challenge this week is to write something about this scene. Is it a noir mystery…or a romantic interlude…or a nostalgic memory…or a philosophical reflection? I know you all will come up with something special. Can’t wait to see you all next week at the Round-up.

Twittering Tale #40 – 11 July 2017

recordplay

photo from pixabay.com

Scratch-pop…scratch-pop…scratch-pop
She couldn’t bring herself to right the needle. Was she depressed? Maybe. Monotony helped her sleep.

~kat
(139 Characters)