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Cabbage Rolls and Shortbread Again?

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Let’s face it, during the holiday season we all either wear our fat pants or wear a stretchy waistband; nobody wants to take Uncle Patric’s eye out with a button popping off at eighty miles an hour. In our family, the holiday season required plenty of food and social drinks. We traditionally included cabbage rolls and perishke with dill cream sauce for the big meal; these dishes represented the Ukrainian side of our heritage. We also had shortbreads and fruitcakes for dessert to represent our Scottish and English heritage. My mom, wearing her little apron with her large bottle of wine at her side, had been in charge for years. However, things change, and for many years now I have been the head hash slinger. I prepare all the finicky treats with as much swearing and cursing and moaning and groaning as possible. Recently, I have realized that this is merely an indication more gin and tonic is needed and represents all the alcoholics who fell out of our family tree at Christmas time, or rather into it. Cheers.

Daily writing prompt
Do you or your family make any special dishes for the holidays?
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No Need for Sleep

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If my body did not require sleep, I am one hundred percent sure I would capture a nest of mice and measure up their teeny weeny feet to make them form-fitted Dutch-style clogs. Upon completion, I will set the nest of mice free where my husband is sleeping and wait and see how long it takes before the clog-thumping mice become more rambunctious than his snoring. Once he’s awake and I am thrown out of the house, I will commune with a local bat colony and learn echolocation, enabling me to run through the forest at night without hitting a tree. And that’s just the first night, who needs sleep?

Daily writing prompt
If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?
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To The Writers

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writing text, random text, text, paper, notebook, pen. by turtlepod is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

Pursing the craft of writing requires determination and a certain understanding that failure is a step to success. So, when I think of all the writers who struggle, I laugh. It is not a cackle of cold-hearted humour but a laugh of harmonious hysterics. And we must laugh, because it’s far less painful than banging one’s head against a wall. A day without laughter is a day with bandages on our heads.

And so, I commend all writers on their continued dedication to writing. Storytelling isn’t a craft for cowards; it is for people with golden scissors in the pocket of their pants. A tool to cut well-loved sentences, paragraphs, and chapters. In fact, well-written stories are the result of a bloody and thorough scissor slaughter. My novel, for instance, is beginning to feel like Frankenstein— a cobbled together horror of life.

In the end, dear fellow writers, the only way to finish is to keep on writing. Which oddly doesn’t always mean going forward; often times, in a banging your head against a wall situation, you need to go back to the beginning. Ugh. However, don’t give up. Whether it be forward or back, movement is the key to success. 

Be the flowing words; be the vibrational hum; be the silence and the song. 
Warble on and tell your stories of deep longing in a world of shallow breaths. 
Go outside and walk upon the earth; take notice of the trees and the sky. 
Pause to listen to the screams of silent masses, and then come into yourself and gather up your gifts and share. 
Stories are you; they are me; they are everyone we see. 
Endless tales of wonder and laughter and banging our heads against the walls.

Perspective

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Photo by Aviv Perets on Pexels.com

Today, while I ponder over the difficult choice of whether I prefer the mountains or the beach, I have safety on my mind. Mountains have forever been a stellar subject for monologues about awe-inspiring beauty, and I agree they are. However, there is a beastly side to the mountain views. First off, narrow ridges and sharp cliffs provide plenty of opportunities to fall and kill oneself. Secondly, the generous nature of loose rocky slopes offer us all the opportunity to be buried free of charge. Thirdly, there are a variety of wild things in the deep, dark forests and inky crevices along the trails, perfectly safe, of course, until they are not. Yet all those little things will not frighten me off; mountains provide far more solace and opportunity for quiet musing than for death-defying walks.

Beaches, ahhh, beloved beaches— aren’t they a delightful oceanside retreat. What could possibly be the downside of such a glorious spectacle except for a tiny tsunami, which could possibly sweep us out to sea? And yet, besides daring to walk beside the largest serial killer in the world, water, we must also consider salt water, the most excellent conductor of electricity. The itty bitty lightening storm dancing in the distance might toast your tootsies too, not to mention, stop your heart. Last but not least, who doesn’t love strolling along the beach picking up seashells? Beware, my fellow crustacean lovers; there might be a poisonous snail living inside that cone shell. This small creature has 30 confirmed kills. But don’t let this stop you from enjoying your favourite sandy haunt; the odds of anything happening are slim.

But seriously, life’s too short to worry; just enjoy it all.

Daily writing prompt
Beach or mountains? Which do you prefer? Why?
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Source Data

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Do you trust your instincts? A difficult question to answer if you only believe in the physical aspects of our mysterious and self determining life. There was a time in my youth when I pushed aside the silent information pressed into my heart and mind. Now, however, with a solid belief in the divine, I look at my instincts as source data, insight free from impurities. What a gift we have all been granted.

Daily writing prompt
Do you trust your instincts?
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Twelve Favorite Months

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It’s difficult to choose a favourite month while living in a country of distinctive seasons. In this life, which offers no guarantees, I’ve decided to love them all. Each month is chockfull with seconds, minutes and hours. A true gift of time. Consider the idea, we are actually the people of our past, it is only from this moment forward that we get to choose our future. Right now, we can decide to become a whole new person, or simply decide to become a panda fluffer. (For those who don’t know, panda’s are not easily aroused and for the sake of the panda population, it takes somebody trained in the art of using a feather duster in certain ways to get the pandas in the mood) Now, back to your future, imagine what would happen if half the people in the world decided to become panda fluffers? It wouldn’t be black and white at first, but eventually the feather dusters would have to go, because… well, to be frank, pandas actually have murder on their minds quite a lot of the time. Panda’s are bears. We must not pander to the pandas. Anyway, my point is, use your upcoming months any way you see fit. It’s your life after all, use a feather duster if you like. Whatever you decide, I hope you remember, that we are all fellow travellers on this calendar of life.

Daily writing prompt
What’s your favorite month of the year? Why?
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A City in the Wild

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Natures ever-changing community lies outside my door, a scurry of squirrels, a murder of crows and an unkindness of ravens. (although the ravens prove to be far kinder than the squirrels who curse you out if you stray near their tree) I live in a city of trees and wild clover and grassy pastures. In the evening I am serenaded by the roving bands of coyotes under the moonlit skies and awoken at dawn by a clattering of jackdaws. My preferred place is a seat in the shade of a grand old willow tree watching the summers light dancing through the leaves.

Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite place to go in your city?
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A Lasting Impression

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You might find this odd, but until now, I’ve never actually considered the sort of first impression I want to make on other people. Way back in the day, as an eight year old, I hid from people who arrived on our doorstep, so, I guess my intended first impression back then was to be invisible. Funnily enough, fifty years later I am still hiding. So yes, the first impression I give to people is one of being invisible, for zero points.

Daily writing prompt
What’s the first impression you want to give people?
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A Heartrending Read

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Writing words on paper is one of the oldest forms of communication, and yet it can evoke the most fine-tuned and complex emotions. Presently, I am reading, A Complicated Kindness, by Miriam Toews. The story is indeed a complicated tale of a young girl growing up in a mennonite community. The narrator Nomi Nickels leads us through her traumatic life with a sharp wit and the aching sense that her escape must be somewhere on the horizon.

I’m not quite finished yet. Nobody spoil it for me or I shall haunt your bookshelf when I die.

Daily writing prompt
What book are you reading right now?
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Remembering the Sacrificed

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Lance Corporal Alexander Antoniuk

Lance Corporal Alexander Antoniuk, February 19, 1924 — December 31, 1944

Enlisted: March 2, 1942 in Edmonton, Alberta. He served in the military with 4th Princess Louise Dragoon Guards, R.C.I.C. His body lies in the Villanova Canadian War Cemetery in Italy. The people of the nearby village, still to this day, maintain and honour the many Canadian soldiers buried in their soil.

Today, I honour and thank all who sacrificed and fought for the ideals of freedom and a better world. My great uncle Alex, as pictured above gave the ultimate sacrifice, and yet I can’t help but wonder, if he saw the state of the world today if he would have thought it worth it. Today, wars still rage all around our magnificent and abundant planet, and soldiers on both sides still give their lives. I pause and ponder an idea… if peace proved to be as profitable as war has proven to be, would war would become obsolete and peace prevail?

“War: a massacre of people who don’t know each other for the profit of people who know each other but don’t massacre each other.” -Paul Valery 1871 – 1945