Woke up again. Now what?

“Morning people. Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge. (It’s now afternoon of the following day. More to the point then, I guess, no?)

So how does that manifest for you? Do you ever wake with that thought?
…woke up, another day, now what?”  Of course. It’s a given. We all have the “things” to do, that’s part of life. But what about that other part, the “hey, my life is counting down, so let’s make this one be the best, could be the last day…” Naah, no pressure there! lol

I suppose it is a part of the aging process that we become more conscious of the no future out in the distance like we once took for granted. The one where we do everything “then” when we get there. Life procrastination. We’re all guilty of it.

Yup. Woke up yesterday morning in quite the contemplative mood, all with dark opaque shades occluding the light of positive thought. Well, not completely opaque. There was enough light to shine on the “wtf are you going to do today to make a difference in the outcome of life as you know it now, huh??

Now that, my friends appears to be my segue into this week’s Ten Things of Thankful. My contribution to the bloghop hosted by our most gracious of hostesses, Josie.

1st place goes to the Wakefield Doctrine. Without it, I wouldn’t have the ability to figure out why people behave the way they do, appreciate another’s personal reality. If you are familiar with the life tool, the perspective, that is the Wakefield Doctrine, then you know what I’m talking about. If you’ve not heard of it, check it out here. Browse the site, read some comments, ask a question! Clark will answer with his typical enthusiasm. After all, he is the creator of the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers.

Alrighty then! Let’s crunch those other numbers shall we? No. 2 only because it comes to mind is, weather, season. The time of year I love and don’t love at the same time 😀 I love the fall colors, the witnessing of nature changing her clothing. (ew! that didn’t come out right! not what I meant!)


No. 3. Witnessing and enjoying youth. More specifically, that of my 2 young nephews, great-nephews to be more precise. Hopefully, I have a special placement along their timeline when one day, as adults, they will recall fond memories of “Aunt Denise”. Our nature walks, Saturday movie nights, riding in my car, the Ramones playing. (the 8 year old is fond of the Ramones 🙂 )

No. 4.
 While it is not my chosen profession, my job. I am most thankful to work with a great group of people and be afforded the opportunity to learn a lot. I can honestly say, it is always a challenge. And that is a good thing.

No. 5. My health. I recently attended a “send off” dinner for a co-worker who will soon be undergoing a bone marrow transplant. While these operations are never guaranteed, I have confidence she will recover, come back to work, return to her life, her family. Her spirit has been tremendous, her attitude phenomenal. She truly is an inspiration.

No. 6. I’m thankful for the inspriration of those I’ve come to know through the internet. Through the telling of their stories, events from their lives, their accomplishments and even their failures. A special shout out to Josie each time she leaves a comment on one of my posts. She never fails to stop by and while I am guilty of not always recipricating in kind, she should know that her comments are always thought provoking and always give me food for thought.

No 7. A new apple! That’s right. It’s called Sweetie Crispy. No, it’s not a Honey Crisp. It is my new favorite for however long it is in season.

No. 8. I cannot not list music as a thankful.

No. 9. My laptop. That’s right. I have yet to purchase a new one. I have difficulty letting go of her. She is still functioning. Sure, she takes spells, has momentary lapses but who doesn’t? I will know when it is time to let her rest.

Thankful 10. Today. And each day I can call “today”. It is my gift, it is my opportunity. It is my responsibility.

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Copy that Zen Masters. The Edge’s got Nothin’ on You!

Hello and good evening. Maybe it will be evening when you read this. Maybe not. Perhaps it will be morning. Or afternoon. Irrelevant. Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge, whenever you read this, my entry in Zoe’s sensational, Six Sentence Story bloghop.

I haven’t written a 6 in awhile. Funny thing happened on my way to the…amazing how ancient movie references still linger in our minds after, well, you do the math! Sometimes to get a boulder rolling somewhere in this stoneless quarry that is my creative head, I will google the cue word. And sometimes I’ll tack on an additional word. Tonight, instead of googling the cue word “fluid”,  I googled “fluid reality”. 

While I feel “fluid reality” is an inadequate descriptor of my 30 minutes or so of walking at lunch today, it was all I could think to google:) The search results were certainly in keeping with my assessment of my time out of doors this afternoon.

I made a deal with Zoe earlier. If she threw up, I’d throw up….a Six Sentence Story. So here she blows 😀

No cloud deigned to obscure the sun’s majestic rule over this day.
A day of simple, crystaline beauty, pregnant with immeasurable power.
No barrier, no film obscuring my vision of the reality that lay before me.
I was one with my surroundings, absorbed in a fluid landscape.
Blue sky blending with black asphalt, green, turning fall, trees dotted the crisply mown grass as I journeyed.
Time ceased in an autumn still life all my own…

Reaching the Edge, it’s a Six Sentence Story

OK, the rules say it’s not too late! It’s Thursday night, 8:37 pm and, while I could post tomorrow, it would seem anti-climatic if I did. It’s opening day after all! Thank you Ms. Zoe! for hosting this weekly bloghop, on this, Six Sentence Thursday.

Every week our estimable hostess reveals for us the “word of the week”. This week’s challenge word? Border. Use it however you wish just as long as your contribution is no longer, no shorter than 6 sentences.

Now, without further adieu (pun intended!)….

Bordering on the edge of insanity, Sr. Cedric decided today was the day her first grade students would either behave or suffer the consequences.

Her efforts to control her young charges appeared to have little to no residual effect as they were as rambunctious and noisy, unrepentant and precocious as ever!

Not one child believed her when she told them she was leaving until she instructed Peter Miller to pull the window shades halfway and then open a couple of the transom windows; then… it started sinking in.

The short, somewhat stout nun calmly walked the width of the classroom toward and out the door turning off the lights as she left, closing the door softly behind her.

As the shock began to wear off and the reality that our teacher had just abandoned us set in, many of us began crying as we realized this was the real deal, Sr. Cedric left, she was gone.

And then.. the sound of the principal’s voice sounded over the loudspeaker…

Anda 1uh, anda 2uh…it’s a 6uh Sentence Story!

Teetering onthe Edge, I bi-bid you greetings. It’s the waning of an absolutely gorgeous late afternoon turned early evening, this Tuesday (but now it’s Thursday night! aack! what the heck you been doin’ for 2 days?!). I did not take a walk. Nope. Despite the sales job I gave myself, the admonishments, the reminders of what might be, what if and still…I could not drag myself out of doors to walk. (but I did walk last night. yay!)

But hey! How you doin’?! Ready for this here Six Sentence Story bloghop?? Excellent! Zoe, our hostess bar none, has graciously given us the word of the week. Scratch. Amazing, isn’t it that I’m actually writing this 2 days in advance? Yes, way! (uh, duh, it’s now Thursday night and you’re late, Girlie!)

fingers bloodied, tips shredded like finely grated mozzarella, I crawled through unevenly shaped shards of glass, colored like the sea glass I searched for as a young girl walking salted, shoreline sands, hopeful ocean tides would deliver me the rare, sought after treasure.

eyes focused, as gray as the slate upon which I found myself sprawled, I set my gaze on the small pinhole of daylight in the distance and imagined my escape.

my life depended on scratching and clawing my way out of this once secret, underground chamber, extricating myself from the lichen coated wreckage of the mighty structure before they returned to retrieve the dead.

only one person could orchestrate this kind of mayhem on this scale in this kind of town and no one, not the Almighty himself would dare challenge his intent or motive as this was the outcome he pursued from the beginning.

plant the seed of doubt, of discension and then let loose a tirade of destructive rhetoric, the rest will take care of it themselves as not one individual stood up when it mattered to question why.

roy wasn’t delusional when he described the patriarch of his newly found family…

 

 

Will She? or Won’t She? It’s SSS Time from the Edge

Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge. I’ve all but ceased many activities I once enjoyed and perhaps was even pretty good at. But I’m afraid I have succumbed to/indulged in/given over to, the notion that I no longer write. But I haven’t given up completely and therefore, I’ll try. For a little while longer. Hell, maybe for as long as Zoe graciously continues to host this hop.

I have enjoyed writing a 6 (if you don’t know what “SSS” stands for then click on the link in the last sentence) in the past. It is a past that feels far away, and not a little “foreign”. Why? Oh, I know why. I’ve been armchairing it since I was a kid lol

Are the wagers placed? Good. What say we find out what appears on the screen in say the next, hm…5 minutes? …

He half stumbled alongside the rain rutted, gravel strewn driveway, pre dawn dew coating his upper lip.
The light…. appeared dimly, not too distant, he could do this, he could make it to the door, into the house none worse for the….wear.
What a night! Was he recollecting acurately the phenomenal fortune he’d had at the blackjack table? Checking his pockets and his wallet, the proof was still there, neatly banded. Wait, just wait until he told Larissa, surely she would forgive him, this one time when he scored so big.

Image result for score blackjack

6 Sentence Story Time. In Edgelike Fashion.

Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge. I return here, briefly, to participate in Thursday’s premier bloghop, 6 Sentence Stories. Thank you zoe, for being the hostess of this creative, fun, challenging….vexing weekly exercise. That’s right, vexing. See, some of us, those who build the blocks we call “writers”, find the challenge of writing a little story-ette in only 6 sentences (no more, no less) somewhat daunting.

Cue of the week? Did someone say “Fault“?…

Trading barbs like ancient Mesopotamian traders on the shores of the Euphrates River, the 2 forever friends stood steadfast, their toes digging into metaphorical sand, each trying in vain to make the other understand their point of view.

Their differences, their conflict, manifesting according to their respective worldviews, had driven a wedge between them, the chasm of conflict blinding each to the other’s grievance.

There was no seeing what the other was seeing, no feeling what the other was feeling, understanding a foreign concept because, while each walked through the same life, life manifested itself differently, as foreign to one as it was for the other.

The years that grew their friendship, that shored up the ties that bound them, now seemed stretched beyond measure. A gulf so wide neither one recognized they’d already converged at the crossroads.

Choice rarely comes wrapped in pretty paper, the difficult choice… when it is what it is for one, and it is what it is for the other, neither is to blame because neither is at fault.

 

 

 

 

Yeah, put ’em Here at the Edge. All 6 Sentences.

So.  You may or may not have a writing process. I used to. I think. Or maybe I had a special time to write. Yeah, that rings a bell. Any-who, it’s 7:50 pm this Thursday evening, the 1st day of the 6 Sentence Story Bloghop hosted by the wonderful Ivy Walker. Whatsay we begin by giving Ms. Walker a rousing round of applause. She’s still hostessing strong and this week she has certainly challenged me with the word cue of the week: “TAP”. Use this word in any of it’s definitions, acronyms, you name it as long as there are 6 sentences with this cue word appearing somewhere among them, you’re golden.

She faltered in front of the non descript, narrow shelving, standing with the weight of her indecision resting  squarely, if not fully, in her left leg.

Why was this so difficult? No one needs to translate the label, no interpreter is needed to describe what her own eyes were clearly seeing but maybe that was the problem, the choices.

There’s always the option to turn around and return to the reliable, steadfast staples, the tried and true familiar, surrounding us, embracing us, day after day.

What were these breadlike “things”, these baked goods with the odd names? Look at this one, surely a misspelling, as no one, on purpose, would use that many “a”s in the spelling of a name?!

At the first tap of my foot on the industrial tiled floor of the tired supermarket, I reached for the bag that read “Guaaaracha” and thought, why not, misspelling or not, the oddly shaped, squared off ovals of breadlike bread appeared to have a light coating of sugar atop them.

The pavlovian response was unmistakable, certain to overpower last minute indecision fortified by a latent fear of the unknown, my path now leading me to checkout…

Image result for guaracha bread