Sometimes on the way to your dream,

you get lost and find a better one.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Sunday Selections #350

Welcome back to Sunday Selections.

Begun way back in the mist of time by Kim of Frog Ponds Rock and now continued by me, with a drastic relaxation of rules.


Originally meant for showcasing old photos lost on your files, never seeing the light of day, the meme has morphed into photos of your choice, new or old, good or not-so-good, anything you please, but nothing rude please.


If you are participating, please leave me a comment so I can buzz along and have a look.
Elephant's Child always participates, and her pictures are always worth seeing.


Today I'm showing you spring in Adelaide, South Australia

All my purple pelargoniums have bloomed at once

pretty?

this is one of the cuttings I started last year, the flower is a deep red, almost black. I'm hoping it does well, it isn't looking very good right now, but with watering it should pick up.

a neighbour has a bed of yellow iris that really light up their corner

 
 
the white cedar tree began blooming a couple of weeks ago and I didn't notice, just wondered why I suddenly had stuffy headaches.

it is covered in zillions of tiny pale purple flowers and the beginnings of what will be an avalanche of the yellow berries that will cover the footpath and driveway. 

how perfect is this snowy white geranium?

and this ruffly pink and white reminds me of little girls party dresses from long ago. I'm going to ask if I can take a cutting from this one.

another neighbour has snapdragons in a range of colours. I've planted plenty of these in years past,  but they have never grown for me.

we have small lakes of statice,

the colour is more intense in close up

and we have roses>>

like this gorgeous apricot climbing over a porch support,

and running in rivers along the driveway,

in pinks,

yellows,

and white.

and look at this! multi shades beginning with egg-yolk orange buds, opening to bright yellows, fading into white as the age and die. All on the one bush, all on the one stem actually. I could cut just one stem and have a bouquet 😎 and I would if they weren't so covered in aphids 😟

the lemon scented wattle bloomed without me noticing, by now most of the fragrance is gone, can you tell how wide it is? It's in the property next door to the community area here, it's a derelict property which has recently been sold and I very much hope the new owners don't cut down this tree when they demolish the house to rebuild.

look how packed it is with little balls of fluff,

here's a closer look. it's my favourite of all the wattles.
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Friday, October 20, 2017

Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write, a story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.


This month the words are supplied by Cindi and can be found here.


This week's words are:


1. clown
2. tunnels
3. children
4. nightmares
5. water
6. friends 

and/or:

1. visions
2. red
3. courage
4. asthma
5. recurrence
6. hide

also an image which I have included

here is my story:

I'd had nightmares for years, ever since coming to live with Aunt Julie and Uncle Bradley. I knew they worried about me, I worried too. The nightly visions where I watched myself running through endless tunnels ankle deep in muddy water, always looking over my shoulder to where a bunch of bright red balloons floated free against a misty sky.



I would wake screaming and thrashing and Aunt Julie would rush in to cuddle me while Uncle Bradley got a damp, cool washcloth to clean the sweat and tears off my face. Each night I tried to tell them, but all I could do was gasp and gulp for air until my chest closed and I would be in the grip of another asthma attack.


In desperation, Uncle Bradley made an appointment for me with the family doctor and Aunt Julie drove me to the building where Doctor Vincent had agreed to see me at the end of his scheduled appointments.
Aunt Julie reassured me, saying how nice he was, always calm, children loved him. "Dr Vincent isn't the kind of Doctor who gives injections and listens to your heart and lungs," she said. "He talks to you and tries to sort out what might be in the forgotten part of your mind, to see if something you've forgotten is causing the bad dreams."


We arrived at the office just as the last patient before me was leaving, a smallish girl who held herself tensely, but smiled as I passed her, so that seemed a good sign. We went in and Aunt Julie introduced me. I shook hands with the Doctor and he smiled, "that's a good firm handshake Will, do you mind if I call you Will? Or do you prefer William?"


"Will is fine," I said. "All my friends call me Will." "It's good that you have friends," Doctor Vincent said. "Do you ever tell them about your nightmares?" "No," I said. "Usually it gets muddled by the time I'm eating breakfast and it doesn't seem worth talking about. We're usually all talking about the next soccer match or the arithmetic test or something like that."


We chatted for a while, with Aunt Julie answering a few questions too, then Doctor Vincent asked me what I remembered about my parents. "Nothing much," I said. "My head hurts when I try to remember, all I know is their names were Vivian and Michael. They died suddenly, then I went to live with Aunt Julie and Uncle Bradley."
"No other memories of the time before they died?" said Dr Vincent. I shook my head which was beginning to hurt. I scrunched my eyes a bit against the glare of sun through a side window.


"Why don't you go over to the small bookshelf and look at the books for a while, I'd like to talk to Aunt Julie for a moment. Is that alright with you?" I nodded and walked away from the big polished desk, to the small bookshelf on a blue rug in the corner. 

I could hear what Aunt Julie was saying, "it was a couple of days after his birthday party, someone broke into their house looking for money and jewellery I suppose. Vivian was an heiress, there were a lot of valuable antiques, including several diamond set necklaces handed down for generations.
The police found Michael with the phone still in his hand, he'd phoned the emergency service, they found Will crouched under his bed, so frightened he couldn't speak. it was eventually thought someone from the party, a guest perhaps, had seen things inside the house and couldn't resist, came back to burgle them, then killed Viv and Mike when they resisted. We think Will saw the whole thing, but he was never able to say anything."


"I see," said Dr Vincent. How old was Will at the time? Would he remember who was at the party? Or what about you? Were you there?"  "I was there," said Aunt Julie. "A lot of Will's friends from school, he was just turning six that day, they were running about playing hide and seek," she stopped as I began to shake and moan, holding my head.
"No, no," I said. "Don't talk about the party, don't talk, don't talk."


Doctor Vincent came to the blue rug and sat with me. Very gently, he said, "I think we have to, Will. It might be time to gather all your courage and learn what happened so there isn't another recurrence of the nightmares. Now, how about you tell me what you remember. Think back, right back, to the morning before people arrived, what do you see?"

His voice had become hypnotic as he rubbed my back, and I felt myself going back to that day even though I didn't want to. I told Dr Vincent about the cake waiting in the kitchen, the hide and seek game, Bobby falling in the fishpond and getting all wet. Then, a blank spot. Nothing in my head.


Aunt Julie prompted me, "that's when the clown arrived. Don't you remember the clown Will? He had a carload of big red balloons."  The clown popped into my head and I shrieked and shrieked, "No, no! No clown, he's a bad clown, he came back, he wanted Mummy's things, he hurt Mummy and Daddy, I don't like him, make him go away!"
Tears were streaming and my head felt like it might explode.

Aunt Julie had a shocked look on her face as Doctor Vincent went to the phone and quietly made a call. I was gasping and gulping just like after my nightmares and remembered the part of the dream I always forgot. The clown was chasing me with his bunch of balloons, telling me he would hurt me too if I ever told anyone.

Doctor Vincent came back to the rug with a cup of water for me, "this will help,"  he said and I swallowed the mild sedative and was calmer by the time the police arrived at his office. Uncle Bradley came soon after and we all sat on the blue rug, which became quite crowded with so many people. We all chatted companionably as if it were a Sunday afternoon picnic, but at last I was able to tell what had happened.



Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Whimsical Wednesday #301

Welcome back to Whimsical Wednesday!

The day for your googled giggle that gets you over the hump that is Wednesday and sliding down into the weekend.


Too many times to count?
 

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Sunday Selections # 349

Welcome back to Sunday Selections.

Begun way back in the mist of time by Kim of Frog Ponds Rock and now continued by me, with a drastic relaxation of rules.


Originally meant for showcasing old photos lost on your files, never seeing the light of day, the meme has morphed into photos of your choice, new or old, good or not-so-good, anything you please, but nothing rude please.


If you are participating, please leave me a comment so I can buzz along and have a look.
Elephant's Child always participates, and her pictures are always worth seeing.


It's bottle-brush season here again>>

and they are everywhere. everywhere I say! Aaatchooo!

the fence surrounding the local MacDonald's carpark is looking nice

remember the foundation poured on the corner block near K's house? We all decided it was a very big house. Turns out it isn't. This is the back of the construction,

and this is the front. Four townhouses are being built, two storey.

here is the front again from the other end.

And this is what they will look like>>

house-garage, garage-house; small gap, house-garage, garage-house.
Modern, but not too bad looking, rather nice in fact.

the Lemon Verbena I trimmed so drastically has made a remarkable comeback; you might remember a few Sundays ago I showed new leaves beginning. These are all on the right hand side,

and on the left where the branches were all so very dead, new growth coming straight from the trunk,
and a bit lower down>>

Look at that! I'll need to trim off that broken bit before someone stabs herself in the hip with it, but I'd say the little tree is well on the way to recovery 😎

What's this in my newly opened tin of Milo?

Huh. Cricket collector cards. I never look at the label on my Milo, just grab the size I always buy and toss it in my basket. Not a trolley, not a cart, just a little hand-basket.
 


Lastly>>

Lola, enjoying Angel's big scratching tower.
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 

Friday, October 13, 2017

Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write, a story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.


This month the words are supplied by Cindi and can be found here.


This week's words are:


1. electricity
2. grief
3. laboratory
4. slaughterhouse
5. kiss
6. amuse

and/or:

1. melancholy
2. murder
3. ravine
4. laugh
5. sensations
6. violent

here is my story:

 The murder scene resembled a slaughterhouse, one of the older style ones, before hoses and drains became commonplace in such places. Blood pooled on most of the floor and splattered the walls clear up to the ceiling, with a few drops hanging from the ceiling fan. This had been a violent act indeed. The small window separating the room from the laboratory next door was smeared as if someone had swiped a bloody hand across the glass. A streak along the floor under that window and stretching to an outer door indicated the killer had dragged the bodies that way. 

Officer Landry shone his torch along the doorjamb until he found a light switch, he flicked it on and wasn't at all surprised to find there was no electricity. It followed the killer's pattern of cutting all wires leading into the building. He either knew his way around the building, or used some type of infra red lamp, perhaps night vision goggles, to find his victims. He radioed the team waiting outside to search the perimeter for the painted-in-blood kiss and the tape recorder with a maniacal laugh that this horrific offender always left behind.


Always just a generic available-anywhere type of recorder, no fingerprints, no speech, just the laugh. They couldn't get any voice recognition from that. Officer Landry's grief at yet more good citizens meeting this terrible fate shook him to his core. Somewhere, sometime, this murderer would make a mistake, drop something, leave a footprint or fingerprint and then there would be some way to track him down. 


He wondered what sensations the killer felt each time he did this. Did he find amusement in being 'smarter' than his victims? Did he suffer melancholy when coming down from such a 'high'? Did he then drop into a ravine of deep depression that could only be relieved by another kill?


The general consensus of his team was they needed to catch this man and the sooner the better. A sudden tiny noise caused Officer Landry to hold up his hand and shush the team. A soft knocking came from inside the darkened laboratory beyond the blood soaked room. Officer Landry eased open the door with his latex-gloved hand and listened for a moment. "Is anybody in here?" he said quietly. More soft knocking led him to a cabinet under the sink, where a laboratory assistant was hiding. 

The poor young fellow had wet his pants with fear and cried all the way to the police station. He continued to shake violently even after being wrapped in a warm blanket and given a cup of hot coffee. He wasn't on the roster for tonight, had stopped in hoping for a few extra hours to help cover his rent. 

"That's probably the only reason you're still alive," said Officer Landry. This killer usually knows exactly how many people are in whichever building he's targeted. "We may have just caught the break we need, thanks to you."

 

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Whimsical Wednesday # 300

Welcome back to Whimsical Wednesday!

The day for your googled giggle that gets you over the hump that is Wednesday and sliding down into the weekend.

I love Calvin and Hobbes is pretty cute too 😎
 

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Sunday Selections # 348

Welcome back to Sunday Selections.

Begun way back in the mist of time by Kim of Frog Ponds Rock and now continued by me, with a drastic relaxation of rules.


Originally meant for showcasing old photos lost on your files, never seeing the light of day, the meme has morphed into photos of your choice, new or old, good or not-so-good, anything you please, but nothing rude please.


If you are participating, please leave me a comment so I can buzz along and have a look.
Elephant's Child always participates, and her pictures are always worth seeing.


let's begin with some pretty rain-filled clouds:

I snapped these while waiting for a bus

something I do a lot of these days

waiting for a bus, that is

plenty of rain in those clouds, but they moved on without dropping any on us.

In the city,

I saw this 'Darling building', which I agree is just darling 😎

and then this, which is much less attractive, in my eyes anyway

but what's this?

a bit odd looking, wonder what it is?

apartments? offices? we may never know, sure is a lot of windows though. Student accommodation? In teeny tiny rooms?

let's finish with Lola:

who turned that light on? leave me alone,

I'm so sleepy.

this was a surprise>>>

I heard her run into the bathroom as I turned on the tap and expected her to jump up to the basin for a drink, then I heard her lapping up water and turned to see her, head down, bum up, drinking like she'd been dying of thirst.
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 

Friday, October 6, 2017

Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write, a story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.


This month the words are supplied by Cindi and can be found here.


This week's words are:


1. forgotten
2. sorrow
3. rustling
4. darkness
5. unbroken
6. window

and/or:

1. perched
2. grim
3. beast
4. soul
5. disaster
6. ominous

Here is my story:

 Standing in the near darkness, looking at the one unbroken window of the derelict old house as the setting sun was reflected in it. Behind her, the ocean and its long pier were suddenly bathed in deep gold. A single caw drew her attention to the lone crow perched on the ridge of the roof. 

A breeze stirred the air, rustling the dry leaves of the oak tree, leaves that had already begun to fall whispered their way to the ground. She shivered as the air grew colder, forgetting momentarily that she was now dead and shouldn't feel anything, but being dead was still so new. 


The day had begun so innocently, walking along the sand, listening to the brass band playing in the town square, deciding to climb up for a closer look at the burnt out farmhouse. Wanting to see inside, having no sense of the disaster about to befall her. 


Starting up the stairs until she realised they went nowhere,  the upper floor having fallen as it burnt, she turned to go down again and her boot caught in a cracked step. She tumbled, head over heels to the floor, knocking her head on the flagstone floor. Just a little knock, surely that couldn't have killed her? 


Her sorrow as she stumbled to her feet, seeing her body still lying on the floor, as if forgotten. Glancing at the now ominous shadows inside the house, wondering if the grim reaper, that beast from hell, was coming for her soul. But nothing stirred and as she stepped back outside to look again at the house which was now her grave, she noticed her boots no longer echoed on the flagstone floor.


She wondered how soon someone might miss her and come searching. She had told no one where she was going this morning. Would anyone be able to see her now that she was a ghost? Did she still hold onto her soul? Or was that gone too?

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Whimsical Wednesday # 299

Welcome back to Whimsical Wednesday!

The day for your googled giggle that gets you over the hump that is Wednesday and sliding down into the weekend.


 

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Calendar Tuesday # 10

Welcome back to Calendar Tuesday, which only happens once a month, on the first Tuesday.

Beginning with Violent Veg:

Someone call 999 my knob is melting!

Next, Life of Teddy:

Even Teddies enjoy riding in the park.

finally, Suzy Toronto:

and here is what Suzy has to say:

Life is like a Puzzle with some of the pieces missing.

Sometimes life is just like a puzzle, full of exciting colours and shapes that piece together the magnificently orchestrated masterpiece before us. But then, right in the middle of our electrifying progress, we suddenly discover that the most critical pieces are missing. The whole idea is frustrating beyond belief! It can seem like the whole landscape of our lives is destined to be unfinished...ruining the composition along with any chance of it ever being complete.

It's easy to get frantic and try to fill in the blanks. At times it's even tempting to try forcing the proverbial square peg into a round hole. But what if those missing pieces were actually opportunities waiting to be fulfilled in new and ingenious ways?
What if life is cryptically offering us the chance to paint the picture in our own unique way?

Looking at it from this new perspective, the challenge becomes fun and we can look forward with anticipation to those wide-open spaces...the ones that allow us to create a life we've always wanted...a life truly worth loving.