Words for this week, January 11, 2017 are:
News, countries, follow, stream, snuff, hair
and/or
mushroom, print, roll, dust, warm, family
_______________________________________________________________________________
- And no one is confused now! Here we are, and here I am! :) (I made a typo, hence the deletion).
"When I was a child growing up we went to the “pictures”. They were never called “movies” in my day. Now I not only have grey HAIR like my grandmother had, but I’m also beginning to sound like her!
To FOLLOW in her footsteps is a good thing. She was a wise, calm lady; WARM of spirit and one who cared dearly for her FAMILY.
In those days of yore the only NEWS we saw from foreign COUNTRIES was through the news reels at the Saturday afternoon matinees. The newspapers, tied up in a ROLL were tossed over our front fence each morning, but I was never too interested in reading the news in PRINT. I preferred the cartoons and any information written about my favourite Hollywood stars.
After the spring rains arrived to lay the DUST, Nana would take my brother and me across to the paddocks on the banks of the Mary River, and along an adjoining STREAM to collect fresh MUSHROOMs. There’s nothing quite like field mushrooms grown naturally. As I write about them I can taste their rich flavour.
Like loyal little soldiers Graham and I would FOLLOW our grandmother as we filled our buckets; not a MUSHROOM escaped our eagle eyes!
Often, on warm summer night we’d sit out in our front yard with only the gentle light from the stars, moon and candles to guide us as we’d play games...just silly family games, unique to us.
We learned from an early age to be careful; to always SNUFF out the candles before we went back upstairs, and then to bed." -
5:19 AM
Granny Annie said...- EXTRA EXTRA by Granny Annie
He had been busy all day
Cutting down the trees
The old man in overalls
With holes in the knees.
He came up from the field
His pet goat would FOLLOW
Both stopping at the STREAM
A cool drink to swallow.
The old man's fat jaw
Overflowed with SNUFF.
The spit blew into his HAIR
The rest wiped on shirt cuff.
They had gathered MUSHROOMs
To be shared with NEWS monthlies.
The neighbors they visited
Were all from other COUNTRIES.
The old man had knowledge
And did not need a hint
To remember the messages
Without them being in PRINT.
The visits had been welcomed
As he spread gossip happily.
A ROLL in the DUST for the goat
Then they returned to WARM FAMILY.
-
Lee said...
- Good one, Annie! I love your poem...as always you put such a good spin on the words.
I think we should set off the sirens and wake the others up! :)
Carolyn McBride said...- mushroom, print, roll, dust, warm, family
I found my family there, among the mushroom logs. They were unclear on exactly how they'd got there, but they were all happy and warm, so I let the mystery be.
But when I got home, I put an appeal into print, for answers surrounding the sudden appearance of a family among mushrooms. After all, it wasn't something that happened every day!
But I got no replies.
The next day, my father muttered something about going for a roll in the dust, and I knew it was time.
Time to call the aliens back, and ask for my real family to be returned.
I had no idea who these people were.
But somehow they knew my plan.
I can hear them now, coming up the stairs to my room, muttering about taking me, making me one of them.
So if you find this letter, and I'm nowhere to be found, take my advice.
Run away from this place, and avoid the mushroom logs.
only slightly confused said...- Terrific selection as usual. Has anyone seen my tinfoil
-
only slightly confused said...
- Okay, here we go:
I remember such simple times; life in a warm, loving family, all of us gathered around the radio listening to the reporters who had been all around the globe to sniff out interesting stories for us. Now, I live like a mushroom, keeping myself in the dark, afraid to follow the news from this and other countries for fear of what I may see and hear. Television gives us such graphic reports of happenings around the world. The news whether in print or streaming live, is frightening stuff. It’s enough to turn your hair white. I’ll just hide under my bed with the dust bunnies and roll myself out when things start to look brighter.
YOU DEFINITELY HAVE THE RIGHT IDEA FOR THESE DAYS. JUST HIDE UNDER THE BED UNTIL BRIGHTER DAYS APPEAR. I FOR ONE AVOID THE NEWS WHEN DUST BUNNIES ARE MUCH BETTER COMPANY. YOU TELL IT LIKE IT IS OSC. GOOD JOB. g.a.
-
Elephant's Child said...
- The law according to Uncle Peter. And his brothers. And his
father. And Jane's husband. All of them were on a roll and the stream
of their commands rolled out - and over her.
'A woman's place is at home... Her concerns should be limited to her family, the latest hair style, the newest mushroom recipe, and keeping a dust-free warm and inviting home... The ONLY times her name should appear in print are at her birth, her marriage and her death.'
Jane sniffed, and wiped angry tears away. She had heard it all before, but it just wasn't her. She followed the news, and longed to visit other countries, experience new things. Think for herself.
She straightened her spine, stood tall and walked out the door. The world was waiting. And she was ready.
-
Elephant's Child said...
- Love all of these very different creations. Thank you so much for thought provoking prompts.
-
River said...
- I love these stories and your poem Annie. I'm running a bit late
today, having slept in until 9am then had to go to the shops for milk
and cat food, but I'm settled in my chair now, with plenty of time to
think up a story. I would have gone similar to OSC, but she covered it
so well.
-
Lee said...
- All quite wonderful! :)
2:20 AM
River said..
Here is my story:
We sat on sun-warmed rocks at the edge of the stream, cooling our feet in the water, idly discussing this and that. All ten of us had stayed in town over summer, none of us could afford holidays at fancy resorts or even a jaunt in a caravan to a beachside caravan park. We'd hear all about those types of holidays from friends when school started again next week. For now, we'd enjoy the last week of holidays.
Charlie had brought along an old snuff box he'd found in the attic of his grandpa's house; his parents were busy cleaning it out after the old man had died a couple of months ago. Charlie, Brenda and Vanessa had all been roped in to help and Charlie had chosen the attic as most things up there were already packed in boxes. The snuff box had been sitting on top of an old writing desk, made from some sort of silky feeling wood, but empty of all writing implements. The snuff box itself was also silky wood, but fragrant and heavily carved.
"I don't know what you want that old thing for." said Brenda. "Looks useless to me."
"That's because you want it for yourself," said Vanessa. "I heard you saying it would be a nice place to keep hair clips or earrings."
Brenda scowled and kicked at the water. "I wish I'd chosen the attic. I didn't find anything I could keep in Grandpa's kitchen."
Janet leaned forward to see her better. "Really? Nothing? What about all the old fashioned baking stuff and the big soup pots, the wooden rolling pins and all that? I heard your mum telling my mum there'd be a treasure trove in that old kitchen."
Vanessa said, "there was lots of stuff, but grandpa hasn't looked after any of it. The baking pans grandma used for all those yummy cakes are all rusted now and the soup pot got burned when grandpa fell asleep waiting for the soup to be ready. No one knows what happened to most of the other stuff, it's all in terrible condition. Mum's glad she took grandma's recipe book after gram's funeral."
"It's really old though and the print is small so the recipes are hard to follow," said Brenda.
"She did make Gram's mushroom soup though, it was nice."
"Get a magnifying glass," said Janet. "Make it easier to see."
"That's a good idea," said Mary-Anne. "Is it just home recipes or recipes from other countries too? I heard your grandparents were from Europe, from Poland or somewhere."
"I heard that too." said Gordon. "Leo's dad is from Germany, that's close to Poland, maybe he could help read the recipes."
"Never mind all that now", said Colin. "I want to know if anyone has heard any news from Brighton. Maggie and Suzanne went there for the holidays and promised to write postcards but I haven't had a single one."
"Me neither," said Ron. "Suze promised to bring back some seashells too, but nobody has heard a single word from that whole family since the day they left."
Patrick had been silent the whole time and now spoke up. "I have. That's why I asked you all to meet here. Remember hearing about the dust storm? They got caught in it and Mr Johnson couldn't see of course, so they ran off the road and the car rolled into a ditch. They've all spent the holidays in the hospital down there, with scrapes and bruises and Suze got her arm broken and Mrs Johnson had a concussion. Their caravan is a wreck."
"But they're all okay, right? said Ron anxiously.
"Yeah, they're fine," said Patrick. "My mum was on the phone most of last night hearing all about it, they stayed at their Aunty's place when they weren't going back and forth to the hospital and now the doctors say they are good enough to come home, so they're coming next Monday. But they never got to the beach, not even once."
RIVER HAS A TREASURE TROVE OF SHORT STORIES FROM HER WORDS FOR WEDNESDAY TALES. FOLLOW HER MIND TO PLACES YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND HOW SHE CAME UP WITH. I HAVE A HARD TIME BELIEVING NOTHING IN THE KITCHEN COULD BE SALVAGED. ANOTHER GREAT JOB! g.a.
And no one is confused now! Here we are, and here I am! :) (I made a typo, hence the deletion).
ReplyDelete"When I was a child growing up we went to the “pictures”. They were never called “movies” in my day. Now I not only have grey HAIR like my grandmother had, but I’m also beginning to sound like her!
To FOLLOW in her footsteps is a good thing. She was a wise, calm lady; WARM of spirit and one who cared dearly for her FAMILY.
In those days of yore the only NEWS we saw from foreign COUNTRIES was through the news reels at the Saturday afternoon matinees. The newspapers, tied up in a ROLL were tossed over our front fence each morning, but I was never too interested in reading the news in PRINT. I preferred the cartoons and any information written about my favourite Hollywood stars.
After the spring rains arrived to lay the DUST, Nana would take my brother and me across to the paddocks on the banks of the Mary River, and along an adjoining STREAM to collect fresh MUSHROOMs. There’s nothing quite like field mushrooms grown naturally. As I write about them I can taste their rich flavour.
Like loyal little soldiers Graham and I would FOLLOW our grandmother as we filled our buckets; not a MUSHROOM escaped our eagle eyes!
Often, on warm summer night we’d sit out in our front yard with only the gentle light from the stars, moon and candles to guide us as we’d play games...just silly family games, unique to us.
We learned from an early age to be careful; to always SNUFF out the candles before we went back upstairs, and then to bed."
Hahahaha, Annie! There was a break in the tennis and I was on my way back from the bathroom when I decided to pop into your blog...and am glad I did! First cab off the rank!! :)
ReplyDeleteEXTRA EXTRA by Granny Annie
ReplyDeleteHe had been busy all day
Cutting down the trees
The old man in overalls
With holes in the knees.
He came up from the field
His pet goat would FOLLOW
Both stopping at the STREAM
A cool drink to swallow.
The old man's fat jaw
Overflowed with SNUFF.
The spit blew into his HAIR
The rest wiped on shirt cuff.
They had gathered MUSHROOMs
To be shared with NEWS monthlies.
The neighbors they visited
Were all from other COUNTRIES.
The old man had knowledge
And did not need a hint
To remember the messages
Without them being in PRINT.
The visits had been welcomed
As he spread gossip happily.
A ROLL in the DUST for the goat
Then they returned to WARM FAMILY.
Good one, Annie! I love your poem...as always you put such a good spin on the words.
ReplyDeleteI think we should set off the sirens and wake the others up! :)
mushroom, print, roll, dust, warm, family
ReplyDeleteI found my family there, among the mushroom logs. They were unclear on exactly how they'd got there, but they were all happy and warm, so I let the mystery be.
But when I got home, I put an appeal into print, for answers surrounding the sudden appearance of a family among mushrooms. After all, it wasn't something that happened every day!
But I got no replies.
The next day, my father muttered something about going for a roll in the dust, and I knew it was time.
Time to call the aliens back, and ask for my real family to be returned.
I had no idea who these people were.
But somehow they knew my plan.
I can hear them now, coming up the stairs to my room, muttering about taking me, making me one of them.
So if you find this letter, and I'm nowhere to be found, take my advice.
Run away from this place, and avoid the mushroom logs.
Terrific selection as usual. Has anyone seen my tinfoil
ReplyDeleteOkay, here we go:
ReplyDeleteI remember such simple times; life in a warm, loving family, all of us gathered around the radio listening to the reporters who had been all around the globe to sniff out interesting stories for us. Now, I live like a mushroom, keeping myself in the dark, afraid to follow the news from this and other countries for fear of what I may see and hear. Television gives us such graphic reports of happenings around the world. The news whether in print or streaming live, is frightening stuff. It’s enough to turn your hair white. I’ll just hide under my bed with the dust bunnies and roll myself out when things start to look brighter.
The law according to Uncle Peter. And his brothers. And his father. And Jane's husband. All of them were on a roll and the stream of their commands rolled out - and over her.
ReplyDelete'A woman's place is at home... Her concerns should be limited to her family, the latest hair style, the newest mushroom recipe, and keeping a dust-free warm and inviting home... The ONLY times her name should appear in print are at her birth, her marriage and her death.'
Jane sniffed, and wiped angry tears away. She had heard it all before, but it just wasn't her. She followed the news, and longed to visit other countries, experience new things. Think for herself.
She straightened her spine, stood tall and walked out the door. The world was waiting. And she was ready.
Love all of these very different creations. Thank you so much for thought provoking prompts.
ReplyDeleteI love these stories and your poem Annie. I'm running a bit late today, having slept in until 9am then had to go to the shops for milk and cat food, but I'm settled in my chair now, with plenty of time to think up a story. I would have gone similar to OSC, but she covered it so well.
ReplyDeleteAll quite wonderful! :)
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed all of these once I had enough time to sit n read them tonight. I like how all those words were worked in so naturally in each story' good poem too.
ReplyDeleteI would need more free think time instead of getting so much backlog to do. Reading bills today. Still have 2 business calls to do but don't have enough time for those. Too late. Time for eating now. Just spent a few hours cooking things to re-heat after work this week.
A 'treasure trove'? I never thought of it like that :) Thank you.
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness! You are so talented, Annie.
ReplyDelete