Sleepy Day

The sun decided not to get up this morning. Which meant, of course, that I didn't truly didn't get up either.  I might be walking round, tackling the projects of the day--laundry, groceries and popping dinner in the crock pot--but I still feel like I have yet to wake up.

Even Lydia, with her limited knowledge of meteorology and seasons, commented as we left the grocery store that it was already nighttime. "No Sweetie, it's morning, but the dark clouds make it seem later than it is." Or, like the day just never really started.

Sunday afternoon the sun glinted off the golden leaves as they danced in the breeze. The shade was a bit chilly, but sitting in the sun was toasty; I was almost tempted to cast off my sweater. Norah even rode her scooter to school and back wearing shorts and a t-shirt, shaking off my suggestion to grab a wrap. The last vestiges of summer were enough to keep us warm.

But not today. Today I sit wrapped in a scarf and I'm waiting for the kettle to whistle, needing a warm mug to thaw out my fingers. If my to-do list was done, I'd snuggle on the couch under my down blanket and read a bit, my feet buried in slippers.  Maybe even doze off.  It's that kind of day. The kind where the only glow comes from the lamp in the living room, turned on at 2 o'clock in the afternoon and doing its best to cast off the gloom of a pending winter.

Fall is giving up and snow is predicted for Wednesday.

"Boo."

That's right, Winter, I boo you.  I'm not ready for bundling and layering, for boots and scarves and hats, for scraping windshields and shoveling sidewalks.  I'm not ready to plow through snow on our way to school or feel the biting cold on my nose and cheeks.

Boo to you, Winter.  At least give us some sunshine.  yawn...

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Maybe I was a little hard on Winter.  In fact, my husband would gently remind me that I booed Summer just a few months ago. "I can't handle this heat. I don't want anyone to touch me; we just stick together, such sweaty kids. I can't wait to wear clothes again."  It would appear that I have an issue with contentment.  So, boo to that, too! 

333 words inspired by the word boo:  (verb) to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo” slowly

99 Words

"Mom!  I don't have anything to wear!"

"I did laundry yesterday; look in your dresser.  And please don't yell."

"I can't go out of the house in any of this!  What brand is this?  Circo?"

"It's from Target and it looks nice on you.  That color brings out the blue in your eyes."

"Ugh.  Why is it so stretchy?  It's at least two sizes too big."

"It's supposed to be loose for comfort.  There's nothing worse than clothing that squeezes you."

"It's like a muumuu bred with a pair of footy-pajamas."

"They call it a Babygro.  It's cute."

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A 99 Word-Story inspired by a single word from the 99th page of the Oxford English Dictionary:  Babygro -- a kind of all-in-one stretch garment for babies.

I figured this could go a couple of different ways.  Either this is a conversation that my infant daughter would have had with me almost ten years ago if she could have protested how I dressed her.  Or it's a conversation we'll have in about five years when she decides to experiment with her wardrobe and I freak out about how much she doesn't look like a little girl anymore.

Mysterious Specimen

"How is your research progressing with this particular subject, Doctor?"

"This is a curious creature:  intelligent, cooperative, easily distracted."

"Have you been successful in establishing communication yet?"

"Primarily through grunts and body language, Sir."

"So, it acts like an animal?"

"But, it's definitely human."

"Interesting...and the age?"

"Eleven, I believe."

"And gender?"

"Boy."

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A 55-Word story inspired by the current scientific experiments going on in our home in our endless efforts to raise our pre-teen.  I love that boy!  (but not his wandering socks or misplaced homework or his 87% success rate at following through...)

Linking up with Trifecta - inspired by the word:  animal 

3  :  a human being considered chiefly as physical or nonrational; also :  this nature

Under a Cloud

We sat, listening to the drumming of the raindrops on the roof.  After a week of rain, the ground was spongy, the sun was elusive and we were ready for a glimpse of the sky.  But still it poured.  And not the pitter patter of a springtime shower, but the thumping and thundering of a storm pent up, unleashing it's weighty burden on us. An unrelenting veil of water washed down over everything.

We laid in bed, praying for a break in the storm.  Not the deluge that gurgles through the gutters and sputters into the yard below, but a respite from this storm of our hearts.  This season of waiting out our own personal tempest has taken its toll:  sleep is elusive, tears burst forth unexpectedly and we're ready for a glimpse of a rainbow -- a reminder of God's promise that He hasn't forgotten us.

Under these clouds of doubt and worry, we weather the steady drips and drops of life.

Another bill in the mail...drip, drip.
Another trip to the grocery...drip, drop.
Another critical comment about our house on the market...drop, drip.

In spite of feeling like our prayers have gotten lost in the storm above, blown away and scattered in the wind, we are reminded again that God is good.  He will see us through this storm and His faithfulness is surer than any illusory rainbow; His reward for patience and endurance is more precious than a pot of gold.

Yesterday the rains persisted and we kept our umbrellas near at hand.  Today, however, the sun is shining and the clear sky nearly blinds our eyes.  In the same way, our storm will pass and on that day the piercing brightness of seeing God's goodness revealed will make every drip and drop worth it.  In fact, His radiance shining through our fragile gratitude will be a beauty to behold.

image courtesy of Unsplash, Creative Commons

The waters saw you, God—

    the waters saw you and reeled!
        Even the deep depths shook!
¹⁷ The clouds poured water,
    the skies cracked thunder;
        your arrows were flying all around!
¹⁸ The crash of your thunder was in the swirling storm;
    lightning lit up the whole world;
        the earth shook and quaked.
¹⁹ Your way went straight through the sea;
    your pathways went right through the mighty waters.
        But your footprints left no trace!
²⁰ You led your people like sheep
    under the care of Moses and Aaron.
Psalm 77:16-20

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Linking up with Write at the Merge this week - 315 words inspired by the picture above, the storms in Northern Colorado and our own stormy hopes.

Linking up with Trifecta - inspired by the word:  Rainbow 

3: [from the impossibility of reaching the rainbow, at whose foot a pot of gold is said to be buried] :  an illusory goal or hope 

The Bottle of Youth

The green goo slips between her fingers; a faint hint of aloe fills the steamy bathroom.  Squinting into the foggy mirror, she gently applies the gel to her forehead.  Obediently, she "avoids eye contact" and works her way over her laugh-lines and across her nose.  She squirts an extra dollop of goo onto her fingertips and finishes smearing the mask over her skin, paying special attention to the creases around her mouth.  Rinsing her hands at the sink she turns her head from side to side to make sure she didn't miss any spots.  She can feel the mask drying, tightening, pulling at her skin.  The lines around her eyes, her crow's feet, disappear and even the "commas" on either side of her lips diminish.  Picking up the plastic bottle, she reads the directions:  Let dry completely before removing.

"Hmmm...I don't suppose I could get away with leaving it on.  I look ten years younger."

She smiles into the mirror and watches as the rubbery film pulls away from the skin around her nose and mouth. Ragged air pockets remain, leaving her looking more ghoulish than glam.

"Ack.  I guess not."

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Linking up with Trifecta - 192 words including the word, mask:

3

a : a protective covering for the face

b : gas mask

c : a device covering the mouth and nose to facilitate inhalation

d : a comparable device to prevent exhalation of infective material

e : a cosmetic preparation for the skin of the face that produces a tightening effect as it dries

I remember dissolving into fits of hysteria with my mom and sis as we beautified ourselves -- rubbery goo stuck in our hair, flapping masks pulling away at our mouths and cries of pain as we inadvertently plucked our eyebrows.  Oh, but our faces were so smooth!

Chaos Containment

Approaching the loft, my eyes widen.  The plastic castle has exploded, carnage abounds:  princesses, horses, a jewelled crown.  Testing my tether, I secure my line of retreat.

"I'm goin' in!"

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Linking up with Trifextra - 33 words including tether, loft and crown.  Also inspired by our current play room we have been calling "The Loft" -- Lots Of Fun Toys -- and the daily struggle to contain the chaos.

Awash in Change

My tears scare the kids.
Blame red eyes on shampoo.
Showers -- my haven.

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Linking up with Trifextra with a haiku.  Now, don't go worrying about me...we're 94% good.  The remaining 6% is why I'm so clean these days!

Pumped Up

The bus practically vibrates as we head out of town to face our rivals for their homecoming game.  The self-appointed DJ sits on the seat in the back of the bus, one hand on the volume knob and the other around his girlfriend.  He was up half the night putting together this mixed tape and currently RUN-D.M.C is blasting out of the speakers.  The energy is high this afternoon and raucous laughter erupts from the starters in the back.

I sit half-way to the front, a forced smile on my face, enduring the noise and re-thinking having volunteered to be the ball-girl for the varsity team.  "It'll be fun!  Then you can come to the away games and when I'm not cheering we can sit together."  I look at my best friend as she adjusts her pleated skirt before sitting in the seat next to me and then roll my eyes as Aerosmith screams at us to "Walk This Way".

Three hours later, we're back on the bus, but the music is off.  So were the games.  Three losses for us, embarrassing losses with more than a few technical fouls, according to my clipboard.  To have handed three wins to our rivals stings.  It's a turkey for them, leaving us with only gutter balls.

In the flash of the headlights on the highway I slip on my headphones and hit play on my walk-man.  In the silence I can finally enjoy my own music.  Leaning back I close my eyes and Van Morrison ushers me "Into the Mystic".

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Linking up with Write at the Merge this week - 264 words inspired two music videos from the my high school days.  I still prefer Van Morrison over most anything else you might hear on the radio.

Linking up with Trifecta - inspired by the word:  Turkey 

3: three successive strikes in bowling

These Are Mine

She sits in the middle of the living room floor, chipped pink polish on her little toes and matching band-aids on each knee.  On the carpet before her is spread a motley collection of pencils, markers, sticky notes, colored pencils and a box of Kleenex.  A folder with an image on the cover of a kitty cat in a tiara sits propped on her lap.  Permanent marker in hand, she scrunches her forehead, tongue peeking out between the gap left by two lost teeth, and adds her brand to the top right corner.

Pointy "A".
Lightening-bolt "S".
Haphazard "H".
Crooked "L".
Lopsided "E".
And a "Y" masquerading as a "T".

She sits back and admires her work.  As she reaches for her new pencil bag, a grin dances across her face and the freckles on her nose sparkle.  It's the Eve of the First Day of School!

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Linking up with Trifecta - inspired by the word:  Brand 

3a (1) : a mark made by burning with a hot iron to attest manufacture or quality or to designate ownership 
     (2) : a printed mark made for similar purposes : trademark
  b (1) : a mark put on criminals with a hot iron 
     (2) : a mark of disgrace : stigma <the brand of poverty> - 

A Little Bribery

I shove another Bacardi box into the growing stack; a veritable castle wall stands guard in our garage.  Stepping back I brush my bangs back from my sweaty forehead, leaving a grey smudge above my left eyebrow.  My hands are covered with newsprint from a dozen different headlines as I wrap and roll our life into careful little bundles and nestle them into vodka boxes and whiskey cartons.

Returning to the living room I find my kids sprawled on the floor, the excitement of packing having waned in the recent days.

"How much more packing do we need to do?" my eldest moans.

"Just a few more boxes, Buddy, then we can take a break and do something fun.  We're getting closer with every box we pack."

A chorus of half-hearted "yeahs" fills the nearly empty house.

"Come on, kiddos, let's band together and tackle the laundry room.  Then we can call it a day."

Their four bodies remain motionless.

"Maybe we could watch a show in a bit."

A few shoulders shrug.

"While we eat some cake and ice cream?"

Suddenly my weary packers are energized.  I set an empty box on top of the dryer and we start filling it with hats, sunscreen, bug-spray and a random shoe.

"Mom?  You do know it's only ten o'clock, right?"

"Yep."

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Linking up with Write at the Merge this week - 222 words inspired by the picture above.  Personally, I opted for some red wine, but I waited until a bit later.  And a generous "thank you" to all the area liquor stores for their contribution to our moving supplies!

Linking up with Trifecta - inspired by the word:  Bind 

3: to gather together : unite <banded themselves together for protection>

Turquoise

In the turquoise glow of the night light I kneel, rubbing her back.

She drifts off.

I creep back to bed, feet tingling, thoughts stirring.  The what if's queue.

Who'll rub my back?

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Linking up with Trifextra:  33 word story, inspired by a color.

Children of All Ages...

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages...please direct your attention to the center ring where The Amazing Alistair waits to astonish and astound you!  Behold!

Amazing Alistair - the Animal Charmer!

See how he stands, hat in hand, peering out into the murky blackness.  What ferocious creature will he encounter this evening?  What wild beast, hungry for fresh meat, prowls in the darkness?

Listen.

Do you hear the snapping jaws, the scratch of its curved claws in the sand, the swish of its powerful tail?  Watch as Alistair flicks his whip.  The resounding crack awakens the beast!

Behold, the leviathan from the deep!

Do not be fooled by its short legs, nor the way its belly drags through the dirt.  This mud monster has jaws that can crush steel!  Tear flesh from bone!  His tail alone threatens to sweep Alistair's feet from beneath him, leaving him vulnerable, sprawled in the dirt, easy prey for this beast's voracious appetite.  See it creep toward Alistair, jaws springing open and clamping shut with terrifying force.  His scaly snout is but mere inches from Alistair's polished black boots.

But, wait.  What is Alistair is doing?  Does he sing?  Can you hear the magic words that he whispers to this creature from the swamp?  Watch as this leathery fiend sways back and forth, the soothing words washing over him.  Can The Amazing Alistair charm even this carnivorous brute?

From the darkness, we see the lovely LaVonna riding on such a curious contraption.  What, pray tell, does Alistair have in mind?  Could it be?

Yes!  Yes! 
Amazing!
Astonishing!
Incredible!

Have you ever seen such a spectacle?
The savage beast has climbed atop the seat of the pink motor scooter and...driven away!

Bravo!  Bravo!

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Linking up with Write at the Merge this week - 291 words inspired by the pictures above.  Sweet silliness!

Linking up with Trifecta - 291 words inspired by the word:  Charm 3: to control (an animal) typically by charms (as the playing of music)

Sploosh!

Arana leaped, pirouetting once before disappearing beneath the surface, the only evidence of her dive, a single ring in the water.  Swimming to the lily pad, Izaba ribbited from the aquatic stage, "Bravo!"

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Linking up with Trifextra:  the words water, ring and stage plus 30 of my own.  For fun, zaba is Polish for frog, while the Spanish word for my amphibious heroine is rana.

Waiting

Abigail sat cross-legged in the dust while a fly buzzed lazily in a circle around her head.  She rested her chin in her hands, pursing her lips.  Her bony elbows dug into her knees and a bead of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades.  Staring intently at the treasure nestled in the straw, she was oblivious to the piercing heat of the sun on her neck or the brittle grass that poked the tender skin of her legs just below her dusty denim shorts.

"C'mon, little friend.  It's time to come out," she whispered, eyes focused on the nest in front of her.

The egg trembled and Abigail's eyes sprung open.  She leaned forward, her hands burrowing into the straw until her freckled nose hovered mere inches from the speckled shell.  "Come out, come out, whoever you are...," she sang softly.

A delicate crack formed in the shell, starting at the top and zig-zagging to the bottom, disappearing in the golden straw.  Abigail held her breath and peered intently at the fissure connecting the dots of the egg's brown speckles.  In the quiet, she heard a tap.  Then another.  And another.  A pale yellow beak appeared in the hole and the crack widened to reveal brown, matted feathers and one beady eye blinking back at Abigail.

A few minutes passed as the baby chick struggled and writhed her way out of the shell.  As she lay panting, stretching her new legs and wings, Abigail smiled and whispered, "Welcome, little one.  I've been waiting for you."

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Linking up with Trifecta:  33-333 words inspired by the word crack.  I feel a bit like Abigail right now as we wait for our house to sell.  I'm intently focused and excited, but feeling a little uncomfortable in this season of patience.  Here's to hoping the "shell" of our move cracks soon!

3a : a narrow break : fissure      b : a narrow opening —used figuratively in phrases like fall through the cracks to describe one that has been improperly or inadvertently ignored or left out