This time of year.

This time of year...

Each year, as winter approaches and the cold starts to settle in, I can’t help but reflect.  Perhaps persuade by the impending months of cold isolation, or maybe for reasons all my own, my thought often turn to sadness; the people I’ve lost and people the world has lost. I try to take comfort in the joyful memories these people brought to those who knew them.

Death, of course, is the ultimate ‘loss’ of which I speak. I can’t begin to explain the pain and emptiness in the heart. I can only hope that no one else knows this same feeling, but the truth is that we will all lose someone. No longer being able to hug or kiss or talk to that special person ever again; it’s devastating. Although the pain may fade over time, the emptiness left behind, will never really go away.  They will live on every time we are reminded… an uncle, spouse, friend, child, beloved pet…

There are other losses, too.

There are the people who have touched our lives in some other way; the singers, actors, celebrity, sports figures and other ‘famous’ folks. Though we may have never met them in person, we feel a connection to them through their work. They shared a little bit of themselves with so many. The joys they brought to the world may live on, but the loss of these talented people touch all who enjoyed their contributions.

But death isn’t the only loss.

I look back at the friends and colleagues with whom I’ve lost touch. Don’t get me wrong, there are some that I’m happy to have out of my life, but not all, not by a long shot.  I often wonder how they’re doing, how their family is doing, if they are still with the same person with whom they were so much in love. I hope they're doing well and living a good life and I wish them all the best. The loss I feel for these folks is more subtle, but still real.

The sense of loss, it seems, can exist for not just people. Whenever I am reminded of a fond memory of a simpler time from my childhood or even from a few years ago; when I see the change of a familiar landmark into a sparkling new shopping center. The loss of the things that have always been there, but are no longer. The unrelenting rumble of change, to modernize, update and revise can be very unsettling, and often leave a void and longing for times gone by. Change, though not always, can be good, but is usually unsettling.

The things we’ve done, the places we’ve been and the people we knew from yesteryear, will live on in pictures and notes and memories. 

The future is as bright as we want it to be, as we want to make it.

Right now, the things we do and say, the people in our lives today; it’s up to us to make the most of it. Tell that person you love them. Shave a smile with a passer-by. Greet each new day and place and event with joy in your heart and kindness in your eyes. The lives we touch and the emotions we generate and share make for a much more rewarding here-and-now and will only enrich the memories we will look back on from tomorrow.

To all in my life; thank you for all that you are to me; near and far, friends and family. Thanks for the memories, the happiness and the prospect of many more wonderful adventures together.

Love and peace to each and every one of you.

Cheers.



...do the best you can, make the best of each moment, and make it count:

Source: candidmyst.tumblr.com

Fish: Forever swimming.

I have these Fish at the side of my blog... ->
and they got me thinking about a pond of fish and how memorizing watching fish can be...

The fish, the fish keep moving, never stopping for a moment. From one side of the pond to the other, back and forth they swim. 

They hide from me and from the light of day in and around and under the plant life in their limited but ample habitat.

They nibble near the surface on some unseen morsels of nourishment, perhaps an insect to small to detect.

They are dizzying and calming, rhythmic and chaotic. They swim for a moment all together, as a single entity, then break apart as separate beings.

Do they know I’m sitting watching them? Here, so near to the edge of the pond, my toes almost dipping in, almost.

The sun catches their scales and reflects a blinding flash. I have to blink, but I know just where to find them when I open my eyes once more; still swimming, just out of reach.

I dip in a toe to test the waters, too cold, to wet. 

The ripples emanate out, upsetting the glass-like surface, and I notice the fish as they are drawn to the disturbance, perhaps in anticipation of a fallen fly or beetle.

They wiggle closer, looking for their next meal.

I ready my self.

Closer.

Wait a moment longer.

Then I strike, claws extended.

In a split second, I have one hooked and on the bank beside me.

Mmmm.

Lunch.

Meow.

Ya - my life has been pretty cat-centric these days. 

Waddayagonnado?

Hope you enjoyed.

Cheers.

Meow.

Back at it.

I took a break, but now I'm back at it.
We had a Craft Sale this past Saturday and the preparation was very time consuming.

Sunday I had an 6 hour writing workshop, and as one might imagine, it started off with a writing exercise. We had 4 minutes each to interview and be interviewed by everyone in the workshop. The exercise was to them write a character sketch, or a scene or a story about a character that was a composite of the people we interviewed. Very cool idea, difficult to do within such a contrived situation, but something that we (can) do with people we meet or know in our daily lives.

Here's mine: Again - the formatting didn't come through very well.

INT. KAYLEE’S BEDROOM - LATE NIGHT.

Cindy, a young girl of 5, with blond pigtails, and in a pink nightgown is huddled under the covers with big sister Kaylee.

Kaylee gently rocks Cindy and strokes her hair.

                    KAYLEE
          Shhh, it’ll be alright sweetie, 
          you’re safe now.

Cindy, whimpering, snuggles in for more comfort.

                    CINDY                              
          But I don’t want to move, Kay.

                    KAYLEE                              
          It’ll be alright, it’ll be an adventure. 
          Think of all the new friends we’ll make.

                    CINDY                              
          I don’t want new friends, I want my old 
          friends, and I want Daddy.

Cindy’s crying turns her words to gibberish. 

Kaylee continues to gently rock her sister and stroke her hair.

EXT. FRONT LAWN - EARLY MORNING

The beautiful PEI coastline in the backpack, fishing boats at dock, fishermen milling about.
Cindy, with her blanket and colourful blanket, stands sobbing beside a Toyota, packed with suitcases.

Kaylee, hauling another suitcase, exists the delightfully quaint house. The airport check-in label on the suitcase reads 'Whitehorse'.

Kaylee and Cindy’s Mom follows, and locked the door behind her.

A ‘For Sale’ sign is neatly planted on the front lawn.

Obviously it's only a part of something that could be more, but again, the idea was to see how to make a composite character and to get us writing.

Now that the pressure is off a little, I hope to get back to writing every day. If I do, I intend to post. :)

Hope you enjoyed.
Cheers and have a great day.

Nov. 10th 2014

Had writing class tonight. Watched a video about how writers should write every day. To say procrastination is counterproductive, is a huge understatement.

Since I've started writing, since my first class, I've always told myself that to be a writer, I must write. It makes sense that I at least try to write every day. Not all days are ease and many produce a haphazard sub-par conglomeration of words that don't mean much to anyone, but writers write, and so I write. For better of worse...

Today's exerciser consisted of listening to 9/10 of a short story and writing our own ending - perhaps a page or so - without any idea of how the story turns out.  The tone and characters are already established by the time we jump in, so it's a challenge, but I was very impressed with what everyone came up with.

Below is what I came up with (with a few modifications), not that I have the first part to post, so this may be a little confusing and unsatisfying, but it's what I wrote today...

The young man plodded alone, along the hard, hot sand to his hotel. With the soggy rubber float still in hand, he enters a luxury suit, beautifully decorated with lavish paintings and expensive rugs. Complimentary baskets of fruit and muffins on every table.

On an overly ornate velvet sofa, sits a young lady. She's reading an 'Elaborate Lifestyles' magazine as a hotel masseuse gives her a pedicure.

"Is that you?" she calls with out looking up.

"Yes Dear" He answers cheerfully.

"You've not been to the beach again, have you?" She flips a page.

His shoulders drop, "Yes Dear."

"Must you Darling? You track in all that sand". She scans the pictures in the magazine and flips another page.

Brushing the sand from his robe, "Sorry Dear."

"It's all right I suppose" she remarks, her nose still in the pages, "but do tidy up, we have reservations at 'Le Grand' and I don't want you smelling of the beach".

Dejected, "No Dear."


And, that's that.

Not sure if it will mean anything to anyone, but it was an interesting exercise.
Point being... Write, write, write.

On that note
Cheers and G'Night!!

Nov. 9, 2014 Billy and Mary

It's not long.
It was inspired by a story my mom told me about when she was little. Things are a lot different from when she when to school, even from when I went to school, but kids will always be kids, and moms will always be moms!!

I’m gonna do it. And I’m not afraid. I’m a big boy now and I don’t need my mommy to walk me to school. I’m gonna walk to school on my own. She even said I could.

Here I go. I’m walking down the driveway and past the fence.

No problem so far.

Now, down the street and past the house with the big scary tree. If I go a little faster, the spooky things that live in the tree won’t catch me.

Now I have to pass the house with the mean dog. I hope he’s not out in the yard. I don’t like it when he barks at me.

Oh no, I see him on the step. It looks like he’s sleeping.

I’ll just be very quiet while I pass by, quiet and fast.

Made it.

Now around the corner and cross the street, I first press the button and wait for the light to turn red for the cars, then I look both ways.  I’m across.

I can see the school yard, I’m almost there. Just a few more steps and I’ve made it.

I knew I could do it. I’m a big boy.

  ***

Beep beep beep…

“Hello Joan, it’s Mary.

Billy insisted he’s big enough to walk to school.

He just left the house, walking down the laneway now, can you take a look outside to make sure he’s ok as he passes your house?

He is? Great, thanks very much.

I’ll call June, chat later.

“Hello June, it’s Mary.

Is Bowser outside this morning? On the step?

Ok, well, can you please take a look outside and let me know if Billy is…

He’s passing by now? Thanks so much. See you later.

“Hello Jill, it’s Mary.

Billy’s walking to school on his own this morning, would you mind taking a peak outside to see if he’s ok crossing the street?  Thanks so much.

You see him? He’s looking both ways? Oh that’s great.

He’s safely across and has reached the school yard?

Thanks for checking Mary, see you at Bridge tonight.

Hope you enjoyed.

Cheers and good night.

:)

Nov. 8 2014 - Cow Caper

Super tired tonight. It's been a really long day.

I haven't written today, and I need to sleep.

Instead, here's the script I entered in to the round one of NYCMidnight's short screen play challenge - round one.
Hope you  enjoy Cow Caper :)

Also hope to get back to writing tomorrow.

Good night.

Nov. 7th 2014

Yup, so - not sure what inspired me for this one.

Won't say any more... read on.

I had a ton of problems in my life, to many to count, but none of them had anything thing to do with women-folk.

Ever since I was a youngen I had ‘em all wrapped around my finger. My ma, grandma, my aunts and all the neighbour women always thought I was a sweetest little boy and would so anything to keep me smiling and making big eyes at ‘em. I could get sweets and cakes and pretty much anything I wanted as long as I gave ‘em a big smile and looked at ‘em with my baby blues.

When I got older, all the girls in the neighbourhood wanted to be near me. They were drawn to me like moths to a flame, even before I had any interest in ‘em. But it had it’s perks, I would always get homemade snacks at recess, and I always had a seat on the bus rides.

When I started to like the attention, it only fuelled their attraction. They were hangin’ off me at the high school dances and I always had a pretty girl on my arm every Friday and Saturday night. It didn’t slow down in collage either, I never had a lonely night, or a lonely bed. I always gave the smart ones an extra wink, and they always helped me out with whatever homework was assigned.

Yep, me and girls were just meant to be.

I finally did settle down with a pretty young girl a met in my final year of collage. We were both studying in the library one evening and happened to reach for the same reference book. 

She took to me like a fish to water, wanted to know everything about me; where I grew up, what I was studying, and what I wanted to do.  She was sweet, pretty and smart. we got along great, found the same things funny, or sad, or touching.  We stayed together for a long time, and I finally figured it was time to ask her to marry me.

But still, I had her wrapped around my finger. She loved me, and I loves her too, but I could get her to do just about anything.

Well, I finally met my match, and things have never been the same again.

It happened late one night. I was in the waiting room of the hospital; my wife had been wheeled in by the ambulance and emergency staff.

I filled out forms and paced nervously, waited impatiently.

A nurse burst through the double doors that separated me from my wife’s screaming and asked me to come in, that it was time. My wife had been having abdominal pains, horrifying, terrible, excruciating pains.

I suppose it was to be expected, she was in labour after all.

And then, after what seemed like hours of torture, my wife gave birth to our daughter.

The nurse cleaned her up, wrapped her in a pink blanked and handed her to me.

I held her in my arms, not knowing what to say, or what to do, just knowing that my life would never be the same, and that my ability to control all the women-folk in my life had come to a crashing halt. I knew, as I looked at my beautiful perfect little daughter, that it was she who had me wrapped around her tiny little finger.

And that's a wrap.

G'night folks.