Category Archives: Accidents

Five Days after the Accident

This little fella has graced the dash of every car I’ve had in Mexico for the past 16 years. Soon he’ll have a new home.

Five Days after the Accident

I am infused with happiness—the most I’ve felt for days—
and hereby I announce that I have shed my dormant phase.
Since my poor car was murdered, I’ve been in isolation,
but now it seems I’m free again and feeling great elation.

I went five days without a car, just stayed at home to heal
while friends did all my shopping. One even brought a meal!
But now I can get groceries, take Morrie for his grooming,
rested from five days at home. Relaxed from all this wombing.
Now that I’ve got wheels again, I have no need to fret.
Simply alive and mobile is as good as you can get!!!

The prompt today was “infuse.”

Back Seat Driver

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Back Seat Driver

You are a lovely woman, Kate—
enough to cause my breath to bate,
enough to stun and addlepate—
but if we stop to ruminate
each time we reach another gate,
it is my fear that we’ll be late.
Why not let me cogitate
when forward progress to abate?
If necessary, I vow to wait
as we wage a long debate
on whether to go left or straight
as we approach the interstate,
but each time you excoriate,
criticise or agitate
for route changes, I rue my fate
the day I set up this blind date!!!

From: Your very competent driver, Nate


The prompt today was ruminate.

Early Morning Profundity

At 4 a.m. this morning, my niece was calling out in her sleep again for almost an hour, so I grabbed my laptop from the floor beside the bed to record her comments. Then as I was about to fall asleep with my computer on my lap, I had an idea for a poem.  Without opening my eyes, I wrote it down before going back to sleep. Here it is, as I discovered it when I woke up this morning:

I’ve been axeoa rhw oxwN.

I’CW Ailws xeoaa rhw aw

ONLY RO SIAXOCWE

RHWEW IA NO PLxw doe mw

aILIF ON RHW VEINWY,

Ailinf on rhw qrwe.

InarwS I’M ARyinf ahoewaisw

wzXRLY QHWEW I OUFHR RWE.
My advice? Never write a poem in the middle of the night with your eyes closed.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/forbidden/

What Are the Chances? Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge 2016 Week 21

I swear this is not a setup!  I came in, tossed some change down on the desk and opened my computer.  After working for a few minutes, I looked down and this is what I saw.  Luckily my camera was handy just a few steps away.  What are the chances that the coin would balance itself on edge like this???? Again..I couldn’t balance it if I tried.  My friendly desk poltergeists had a hand in it.

To read a follow-up story to this one, go here:
https://judydykstrabrown.com/2016/05/26/so-strange-so-strange/

 

https://ceenphotography.com/2016/05/22/cees-odd-ball-photo-challenge-2016-week-21/

Hail (Re)Tale

Hail (Re)Tale

I told my hail story so long ago that I had few followers and even I had forgotten about it, so perhaps you have, too. Or, if you are a relatively new reader, you probably haven’t seen it before. As a matter of fact, the only people currently following my blog who read it were Angloswiss, Ann, Allenda and my sister. (Hi, ladies)– so  here it is again.  Please go HERE to read it.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sudden-shifts/

Saved!

The Prompt: Sink or Swim. Tell us about a time when you were left on your own, to fend for yourself in an overwhelming situation — on the job, at home, at school. What was the outcome? For once, I’m going to take the prompt literally.  I wrote about this in January, so I’m going to use a rewrite of the tale I told at that time.

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Saved!

Although I’ve never had a child of my own, I love children; and from a very early age, my eye in any social situation was always drawn to babies. When I was little and my mother would take me along to meetings of her Progressive Study Club, I would always stand in the bedroom to watch the babies spread out on the bed by their mothers, surrounded by their coats.  In a similar fashion, I notice babies in restaurants and on the street––  especially babies who are facing backwards over the shoulders of their parents.  I love seeing what they are looking at––who they are communicating with through their eyes and their smiles.  I love it that babies have a private life even in the company of their parents.

In this modern age of child abductions and pedophiles, parents might find this creepy, no matter how benign one’s motive is in watching their children; but in my case, if they have not forgotten, there are two sets of parents who should feel very grateful for my interest in their children; for although I have never birthed a child, I am responsible for the presence of two children, now grown to adults, who would not be here but for me. In both cases, I saved a baby from drowning.  Both times, although there were other people in the proximity, they were in social situations where no one noticed what was going on as the baby nearly came to harm.

One of the times was at a housewarming party given by my boyfriend’s son in California.  We’d all been given the tour, including the garden and hot tub, which was up on a raised patio out of view of the house.  As we stood in the living room talking and drinking before the meal was served,  I noticed that the toddler of one of the couples was not with his mother. Looking into the other room, I saw he wasn’t with his father, either, and I suddenly had a strong feeling that something was wrong.

I ran out of the house and into the garden just in time to see him at the top of the stairs leading to the hot tub.  He toddled over to the side, fell in and sank like a stone.  I ran up the stairs, jumped into the hot tub and fished him from the bottom before he ever bobbed to the surface.  I remember the entire thing in slow motion and have a very clear memory of the fact that it seemed as though his body had no tendency to float at all, but would have remained at the bottom of the deep hot tub.

The parents’ reaction was shock.  I can’t remember if they left the party or if they really realized how serious it was.  I know they didn’t thank me, which is of no importance other than a measure of either their inability to face the fact that their child had been within seconds of drowning or simply their shock and the fact they were thinking only of their child.

Strangely enough, this had happened before, at a stock pond just outside of the little South Dakota town where I grew up.  Everyone went swimming there, as there was no pool in town.  When I was still in junior high, I’d just arrived when I saw a very tiny girl—really just a baby—fall into the dam (what we called a pond) and sink straight down under the very heavy moss that grew on the top of the water.  Her mother had her back turned, talking to a friend, and no one else noticed.  I jumped in and fished her out, returning her to her mother, who quickly collected her other children and left.  Again, no word of thanks.  It is not that it was required, and I mention it here only because it happened twice and, having not thought about this for so many years, I am wondering if it wasn’t embarrassment and guilt on the part of the parents that made them both react so matter-of-factly.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sink-or-swim/

Lit and Bit

Lit and Bit

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IMG_8947 (1) IMG_8942 IMG_8944 IMG_8950As I was taking the picture of the sconces outside, in the dark, I was breaking off the bougainvillea vines that grew in front of them, sticking myself on the thorns, as usual.  Then I felt a sharp sting on my forearm and called out to Judy (a visiting writer who is doing a retablo workshop with me at my house) that I was stung by something.  Then I felt a very sharp sting on my leg, under my Levis.  I grabbed the place and squeezed the material of my Levis, running into the house, trying to get my shoes off and my jeans pulled down.  “It’s stinging me, it’s stinging me!” I said.

“What do I do?” Judy shouted.

“Pull my pants down!” I ordered. She did and I held on to the bundle I imagined inside the jeans–hoping it wasn’t the notorious and very poisonous Donald Trump caterpillar that has been discovered locally.  When I opened my fingers, there was instead a black wasp inside.  How he got inside my jeans I’ll never know.  Perhaps he fell off my arm when I received the first sting, fell to the ground and flew up my Levis in an attempt to get away.  At any rate, the stings hurt like Hell.  I ran to the bathroom, wet my wounds and sprinkled on meat tenderizer which helped to counteract the worst stinging, although my arm and leg are still swollen and tender to the touch.  How I suffer for my blog!!!
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For more light photos, go here: https://themomhood.wordpress.com/2015/11/28/prompt-stomp-week-9-calling-all-photographers/