It only takes 10 minutes...

OK 26th October 13:00 on board the big train!

Hello Blog,

I'm off to surprise my gorgeous hubby. Isn't that great? I'm super excited. So, how you doing? How's it been going?

I'm reading my monthly magazine. I love it, obviously! I wouldn't purchase it otherwise. I've been noticing now how companies, well being, etc. are promoting "it only takes 10 minutes of your day", "just 10 minutes a day", "set aside 10 minutes", etc. Whilst it good and I do believe in it, but I'm finding everything I do I'm setting aside 10 minutes chunks to do it in! Or there abouts.

My time away from work is built up of the following "10 minutes":
Meditation
Reading
Writing
Breathing
Coffee drinking
Learning a new language

I'm finding I'm having to squeeze in my exercising, cooking, eating & crafting! Even hair cuts! My free time from work is a constant noise of the alarm stating my session has finished. My diary is chokka block with sections of today's achievements, as I like to call them!

I'm counting my calories, as it's the only system that helps me to lose weight 🏋️! I have to schedule time for that to tap the food into the required App on my phone!

Am I taking on too much? Probably. But being a depression sufferer and working shifts I have come to discover that I do like routine. I'm finding these sessions help to clear my head of rubbish and I'm very productive in what I'm doing.

But, sometimes I just have to say bollocks to routine and do stuff spontaneously. Like, going to surprise my hubby! 😉 😁 Some things are too important to miss.

I shall continue with my "10 minute" sessions. But careful not to take on more. There are, after all! So many slots in one day.

I'll leave you for now and continue with reading 📖 my magazine. I have 3 changes for this journey.

I'm sooooooooooooooooooo excited. Ciao for now.

Love 😍 Hugs 🤗 and Sunshine ☀ xx

First Typewriter

12th October 8am on board choo choo

Dear Blog,

Good morning. How are you? I've seen a gorgeous red morning sunrise 🌅 on way to Saltburn. Just delightful!

It's now Thursday 19th October writing at home on the kitchen table. It's 06:30 am. Gosh, it's been a while since I wrote to you. Busy with work and gorgeous hubby's birthday day. Today, I'm on 8 of 9 shifts...lucky me 😀!

I wanted to tell you about my first typewriter. Well, it was that good I cannot even remember if it was a present or I brought it myself! 😉 😁 I think I brought it. I was a teenager and I know I was really happy about it. It was electronic and it had a screen, so I could see first what I wrote. It looked so professional. It only did the basics but that was enough for me.

I could use it for my homework too!

Anyways, today's letter is short but I wanted to tell you. Nowadays I use notebook 📔 and pen 🖋.

I'd better be off and get to work. Write 📝 soon.

Love 😍 Hugs 🤗 and Sunshine ☀

Holiday: Lake District: extract

On board the choo choo 🚂 at work 8am 9th Oct

Dear Blog,

How's it going? All's well today. Very tired this morning. Blooming cat had me up at 3 wanting to go outside and then I couldn't get back to sleep...arrrrrrrgh! So, I think coffee is needed today to get me through my shift.

Gorgeous hubby and I had a great holiday in Wanda the other month out to The Lake District.

Wanda: our VW Campervan

Here's an extract from my diary:

Tuesday 26th September

We awoke early and gorgeous hubby made bed tea. A porridge breakfast was called for today due to today's activities. We made our packed lunches and headed for Ravenglass on our bikes, praying that the tide was out.

We headed for the ‘72’ cycle route from along the ‘B’ roads from the farm campsite to get to the water's edge. Phew, the tide was out we were able to cross land and get to the bridge to get into Ravenglass via the estuary.

We brought our tickets for the railway (Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway) and waited for the 10:25 departure. A narrow-gauge railway, called the La’al Ratty, taking us up to the Cumbrian fells to Dalegarth station. Absolutely stunning views! Clouds in the sky with the faint sun peeking through, although a bit chilly. Along the way strategically placed artwork of animals had been put up to view. This was called “The Curious Incident of the Stag and the Trainline”. Ten huge vibrant paintings of eccentric and multi-coloured animal heads by Sarah Taylor. They were heads of: deer 🦌, rabbit 🐰, hare, cow 🐮, sheep 🐑, red squirrel, badger, stag, and two others.

The ride we took was with a steam train travelling the forty minutes winding up the hills with stunning views. Excellent and recommended journey! Along the way Michael spotted a big bird in a tree, which he thought was an Osprey.

We enjoyed a coffee and I brought a chocolate brownie to share.

Then walked on an adventure, initially using the walking tour map to various waterfalls through the marked paths in the forest. Absolutely beautiful! It was very warm so we were able to remove our outer clothing: both down to our t-shirts! In Cumbria too! Amazing! We walked along singular tracks, over wooden bridges, through forests; peaceful and outstanding beauty! We veered along the footpath through gates and over stiles zig-zagging our way up the hill to the rocks on top. Perching ourselves on the top feeling on top of the world we enjoyed our sandwiches with a 360 degree view of The Lake District. At which point the sun shine through the only bit of bus sky making the seating warm and viewing even more enjoyable! Delightful! The surrounding fells were covered in clouds.

Arriving back picking up the advised routes snaking our way to more waterfalls to arrive back at Dalegarth Station.

We drank the rest of our coffee with a piece of fruitcake (homemade butternut squash fruitcake), waiting for the steam train to arrive. The station filled up gradually with people and various dogs; so many breeds!

Toot, toot! We hear the train arrive. The passengers disembarked, then we hopped on, onto the front seat, and waited for the engine to transfer from the rear to the front, where it was manually coupled.

Permission was granted to proceed and back to Ravenglass we headed.

We sat on different sides to get different views on the back down.

Arriving back, we watched the engine go into the turnstile from platform one to three.

We had a quick stop at The Ratty Arms for a beverage or two. A delightful real ale pub alongside the actual Ravenglass Station, and watched a couple of Northern trains come and go.

We cycled along the still out tidal route to Wanda and enjoyed last night’s chicken korma with carrots. Michael had sausage with his and beer. I drank lemonade.

Tonight’s entertainment was watching a DVD: The promised Land. And, then bed.

I need coffee, this is going to be a long day. I cannot wait for it to end. I have two days off from tomorrow, so I'm looking forward to that.  

I'll go now and do some work! Speak soon.
Love, Hugs and Sunshine x

Letter Writing

Thursday 28^th September – Dad’s Sitting Room, Cumbria               21:30

Dear Blog,

How are you doing today? I hope you are well? I have decided to write my blog as a letter. I like letters. I have been writing them all of my life.

I have had three Grandparents and two Godparents, of whom I write to regularly (or I did, unfortunately my grandparents are no longer with us). I love receiving letters from the people to write to too! To me, there’s nothing really greater than having a hand written letter come through my letter box. It makes me smileJ! Post isn’t just for birthdays, Easter, or Christmas!

People would often comment that I write in a way that they felt I was actually talking to them face-to-face!

My Granny (Leicester) would enter us (me, brother, sister) into the Leicestershire Chrysanthemum Society for their competitions: handicraft, decorated egg, biscuits, “garden on a plate”, and such like items. I have the prize cards, which Gran sent via the post still in my possession from 1985 and 1986!

It’s really good fun to re-read letters and such items sent through the post, years later; it brings back so many memories. I love it!

Years later, in my twenties, I travelled a lot on my own and mum suggested that I write diaries of my adventures. This was great as I was actively doing something whilst I sat in a café. I would write these up upon my return and sent them to various people via the post. It was great and my writers really looked forward to receiving my diaries. This has carried on throughout my thirties too! In fact, I’ve just written one up now ready to post to people. My gorgeous hubby and I went to the Lake District for a week, ending in visiting friends and family, as I’m originally from Penrith.

And now, I have more people to write to. It’s great! So, in my comfort attempt to make it better my gorgeous hubby and I brought a house with a craft room for me. I have boxes with all my items in and there is one labelled “Letter Writing Sets”. Buying letter sets is very important for me. I prefer to buy in shops rather than on-line. I’ve been doing this since I used to visit my Granny in Leicester. Near to her house in Evington there was a stationery shop and I’d love to visit there. Unfortunately it’s closed nowL, but that doesn’t stop me from going into every shop to look for writing paper. It must have lines. I used to buy those pads with blank paper which had a separate lined paper to put underneath the blank page. I still wrote wonky. So, buying lined paper is a necessary for me now.

I sat down to write my letters a couple of months ago. I wrote four. I posted them on way to work, pleased with myself. It wasn’t until noon, whilst at work, I realized that I hadn’t put any stamps on them…arrrrgh! I felt so stupid. I then had to contact these people and tell them. Thankfully they understood! Phew! That was a relief!

Now, I have an abundance of people to write to. My gorgeous hubby works away. I love writing to him, telling him my news. Letters are personal. I write to my best friend, Sharon, www.wordsandwoes.com. Eventhough we are in contact daily electronically (she lives south and I live north) we can say more to each other. She told me about #BringBackPaper from www.readingresidence.com and I now have pen pals to communicate with. It’s just too exciting! I cannot wait to get started! I write to my parents-in-law too! I write to my uncle in California. They all write back via email, but I prefer to write via post. My mum lives in Italy and we communicate via letter too, although that does take yonks’ to get through!

Sending post can be expensive, but it’s worth every penny! I just have to be careful with what I send. I’m watching my pennies presently!

Until next time,

Love Hugs and Sunshine xx

Hope

Hope is the worst of all evils, for it prolongs the torment of all men. Of all the characteristics in life, hope is the one that can exhilarate or hugely disappoint.

He lay there wondering if she’d come. They’d had a blazing row last night or was it last night, he thought? He struggled to remember when it was exactly. His eyes were wide open and couldn’t see much. Well, it was cream all around, a beeping noise surround. What was that noise? He could here footsteps walking quickly along the corridors. If only she’d turn up he sighed. He continued to lie on his back and listened to the repetitive beeping noise.

~

Charles had been walking his dog, Turbo, through Hyde Park. Their usual walk nowadays as Charles had been laid off his Accountancy job in the City. He didn’t understand why he’d been laid off, as, really, everyone needs an accountant in their business, so why had “Mr. Bushy” decided to get rid of their accountant of 20 years and prove he’d do it himself. Well, let him! What does he know? Think he’s this new age know-it-all. Well, let him! Damn him! And I’m out of a job. Who wants a boring old accountant?

Turbo huffed and puffed and wagged his tail…give me more…give me more…, excitedly wanting his master to throw the ball. Ever reliable Turbo to meet and greet him when he returned home, it broke his heart leaving his ever faithful dog alone in their flat day in day out whilst he routinely went to work.

~

As he continued to lie on his back with the cream surrounding his existence he tried to re-capture the memory of recent events, especially of why he is in here.

~

So many unanswered questions he was really struggling with the answers. So many events happened for him to hope that he was still on the right track.

~

Although he’d known the company, Ringworths Chartered Surveyors has asked for voluntary redundancies, he hadn’t expected they’d be serious to go further after that announcement to lay off more people.

~

The door opened into the cream room, he tried to lift his head, wanting, waiting, to see if was her. Oooo, the pain! In quickly walked a nurse with a clipboard.

“You’re awake,” she smiled, professionally.

He groaned as the pain seared through his head.

“Doctor Waite will be in shortly to talk to you, and you’ve had a letter.” She opened a white envelope and placed the letter, A5 size, into his hand. He grasped as he noticed her name badge.

“Thanks,” he mumbled with gratitude.

He wasn’t going anywhere as it took him a long time to focus on the elegant handwriting afore him.

           My dearest Charles,

So long I have waited for you to say those words to me. But I don’t know if there were just too late. I always knew you were the man for me, although you didn’t believe it yourself. Something changed in you and I didn’t really believe what you said to me was real. You seemed distracted, like as through you wanted to say something and through those three words would shut me up instead.

I wish you well with your recovery.

I have gone away for a while to think about all of this.

Your loving Melody

It was like a stab in the heard to think that Melody had gone away. Was it forever? Will she be back? He tried hard to remember why he is here. Where’s Turbo? Panic struck him like lightening. Who was looking after him? Oh Turbo, I’m so sorry, are you ok, Turbo, he silently through sinking deeper into sadness. Oh Turbo! He had no family to take care of him. His neighbours were a funny lot.

The door opened and in walked a suited man, who Charles presumed was Doctor Waite.

~

Nearing the end of his walk he couldn’t help but feel glum about the world. What a blow it had been to receive his letter of redundancy for his “commitment to the firm” and how “they’d grown together”, with “great sadness” from the M.D. that the recession had forced the company to downsize and lay off a “considerable amount of employees,” blah blah blah! Charles struggled to take it all in and buckled underneath he sheer wright of being in his forties, and no longer employed. What was he to do next? Accountancy had been all he’d ever done. He’d joined fresh out of university after a summer placement, completing with a First Class Honours Degree. His parents had died shortly after their celebrations in a car crash. Ringworths had been a caring company then and sown great compassion. Not now, the big dogs from America had bulldozed their way in and…Bang! Blackness!

~

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Quite a nasty hit you’d taken Mr. Dalman,” said the doctor.

All Charles could do was stare at him, his memory still now getting clearer.

“The car hit you straight on and you’d been thrown a long way. Very lucky there was a nurse passing and been able to make you comfortable whilst a passer by had called for an ambulance. Without here you’d have been more serious.” Charles lay still unable to take in the events. Not remembering a thing as the doctor talked in his soothing voice.

He thought…walk…car…accident…ambulance…the worlds were sinking in.

~

He knew he loved Melody but he felt she’d wanted more from him. After all, he’d gotten such a great degree, how could he tell her he’d been made redundant. She desperately wanted to settle down to a family. How could he tell her? He’d had savings, but with no income to continue his support how would she take the news?

~

And now, he’d lost Melody forever. She’d gone and left him.

“Right then Mr. Dalman, I’ll keep popping in to aide your recovery. Anything you need?”

“No”, he muttered.

With that Doctor Waite left and in walked Melody with Turbo.

TRIPPING INTO DARKNESS

Fred's voice came from the rocks by the sea as they both looked towards the cliffs. “Come on Si let's look.”  

“I'm not going in there”, a nervous Si replied. “It looks far too dangerous”. Both of them looked at the cliffs. Silence!

 “Oh, come on Si, it’ll be fun!” 

“Fun?” 

“Yes fun!” 

“You know I don't like dark spaces.” Si almost ran away. 

“Well, stay behind me. I'll go in first.” Fred stood and looked hopefully at Si to follow. 

Si hesitated, unsure. He looked at the cave convincing himself it was going to be ok.  

“Come on Si.” Fred wanted to go inside; to go into the unknown. He'd wanted to go inside this cave for yonks. He was too excited.  

Both of them scrambled over the large rocks. Si put his foot on one and it rolled away nearly taking him away as he went flat down. Fred turned and was able to quickly stretch his left arm downward for Si to grab and steady himself.  

“Easy Si, you had me worried,” called down Fred, “you were lucky.” 

Si, conscious of not looking down, breathed a sigh of relief and continued. Heights weren’t his thing either. 

The ever looming cave was in front of them. They stood side by side looking into the dark space. 

“Go on then,” called out Si, “you said you would go first.” 

Fred lifted up his right foot and stepped cautiously out, followed by his left. Inside he was quite scared, but he wasn’t going to show it. Si was terrified, wrapping his grey jacket tightly around him. 

“Hellooooo,” called out Fred and the word echoed. 

Fred said it again and it replied once more. 

“Come on then. There's nothing in here. Let's look.” Fred took out a torch from his back right jeans pocket and switched it on. A white beam showed the way on the stone floor. Loose chippings scattered. He kept the torch in front of him as Si followed. Neither of them taking their eyes off the floor as the exit hole got smaller behind them. 

“So what do you think is down there,” asked Si. 

“I don’t know really. Have you ever heard the noises at night?” 

“No!” 

“It's said there's a harrowing woman's voice repeating “set me free”, and it continues for hours,” said Fred. 

“Don't be daft, you've made that up,” said Si. 

“No, I haven’t. You ask Old Tom down the Docks and he’ll tell you. He's been banging on about this cave for ages. He says it's an old mine shaft and they brought in a woman to help the lads. The mine tumbled and she got stuck. The men returned, but she did not. No-one knows who she is. Tom reckons it’s a witch wanting to get the gold.” 

“A witch! Don't be stupid. Now, you’re having me on.” Si poked Fred in the back. 

“I'm telling you the truth. Old Tom told me,” Fred said matter of factly. 

Si rolled his eyes. 

“No, seriously, it true! Old Tom tells really good tales.” 

“Yes, tales. That’s what they are: tales!” 

Their footsteps moved the dust and they were frequently wiping their faces so they could follow the light. 

“Hellooooo,” and the echoed repeated. 

“Whah!” 

“What was that?” whispered Si. “Was that you Fred?” 

“No,” Fred turned around and shone the light into Si’s eyes. Si shielded himself. “Oi, put that away, you muppet!” 

“Sorry Si,” said Fred. “Seriously what was that noise?” 

“Well, I don’t know,” shrugged Si. 

Both of them stood still, listening for the noise, but none came. Silence! 

“You're having me on,” kidded Si. 

“Seriously I’m not! I'm scared,” admitted Fred. 

“Scared? You? Why, you love being in these places, doing stuff like this.” 

“Yes, well, it isn't funny anymore,” quivered Fred, “maybe we should turn back.” 

“Absolutely no way,” said Si “I’m not coming this far to turn around. You brought me here, so we’re doing it. All of it.” Si was cross now. How dare Fred do this to him? It wasn't funny and he wasn't going to turn round. 

“May be we could go on,” thought Fred out loud. 

Both of them turned and continued. Silently they tread forwards not really knowing what was down here. It was the silence that was painful. More so than the blackness! How could blackness harm you? And, how was it so silent down here? More questions they asked themselves, but probably wouldn’t get answered. It was more to aide their heads. The tread of their trainers made a slight whoosh noise on the floor. The torch still guiding them. By now they were holding hands. Blimey, if someone could see them now, they would hurl all kinds of abuse. They felt connected; they felt safe. 

“Whah!” 

There was that sound again. Further they continued. Every step taken tentatively. The silence was incredibly deafening. Their breathing was slow as they kept the dust away from their eyes. They wanted to speak, but were too scared. They gripped each other’s hand tighter. Why on earth were they doing this? Even Fred now understood Si’s reluctance. It did seem a great idea at the time. Now, with only a torch showing them the way it seemed all the more ludicrous. Fred stopped caught his breath and turned around to Si, “whatever happens tell mum I love her.” 

“Don't be daft Fred. We’ll be fine. Come on, which way do we go now?” as they approached a T-junction. 

“Well according to Old Tom, he says left goes to land side and the right goes out to sea. Well, at least I think that’s what he said.” Fred stood and thought about it. “Yes, that’s right. Left goes into the cliff and right goes out to sea.”

“So,” shrugged Si, “which way?”

“I don’t know. Old Tom never got that far. He just told me the tale of the witch. He didn’t say which way.”

“You idiot! You brought me down here for nothing,” as Si whacked him around the head.

“OW! That hurt!”

“So it should, you fool. You brought me here and didn’t know which way to go. I’m off. I’m out of here.” With that Si turned.

“No, don’t go. Let’s go left,” Fred protested as he grabbed Si’s right arm to stop him from walking away.

They both faced each other waiting for each other to speak.

“Come on Si, do this with me?” Pleaded Fred as the question hung in the warm air. “We’ve been friends all our lives. Let’s have some fun. If we don’t get out at least we’re together. When have I let you down?”

“OK. But, no more, OK? Let’s go left and see where it takes us.”

“Thanks Si.” They hugged , dusted themselves down, and set off.

“WHAH!”

“I’m getting sick of this now,” said Si. “Sounds so pathetic. I reckon it’s someone playing a joke.” Si wiped his hand through his greasy ginger hair. It was getting very hot and sweaty as they continued deeper.

“No, it’s no joke. Old Tom says so. The witch has been down here for years. Never returned.”

“The witch would be dead now. When was the collapse? 1935? That’s 80 years ago.”

“It was before then; 24^th April 1933 to be exact. They closed the gate too hard and it caused the tunnel to give in. All the men managed to get free. She was on the wrong side. Apparently pushed, so Old Tom says.”

“You and blooming Old Tom. I wondered where you’d gone all those times I came looking to go out. Left me to go with the Hobson’s Gang. Not much fun I can tell you.”

“Yeah sorry Si. When we get out we’ll be together more.”

“If we get out,” said Si doubtfully.

The floor was dusty and they were covered in soot. It was quite a small hole, they nearly touched the ceiling; just over six foot. They grew up as twins. They walked as the torch guided them over and around large rocks. It was getting warmer and warmer; they huffed breathlessly as they continued.

“What else did Old Tom say?” Si asked mainly out of boredom.

“He told his tales. There’s many in these parts. Old Tom’s 84 and been around here for years; knows everyone and everything. He lost his only son in these mines. The one further up the road. He wife died ten or so years ago, and he’s been on his own ever since. He hangs around with the fishermen when they go out to sea and waits for their return.” Si listened as they walked. “There has been a tonne of storms, lots of village scandal, and his tales; they’re just so great to hear.”

“Well, thanks for deserting me. Hudson and his gang are numpties. I had to spend most of my time revising, but this makes a welcome change from all the revision and hanging around with them.”

“Yeah sorry Si. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so absorbed with him, I forgot everything else. What with mum being busy doing two jobs I didn’t want to stay at home on my own, revising! Oh shit, I have so much to do. You were always brainier than me, Si.”

“That’s cos I don’t have my head up in the clouds, Fred. Come down occasionally, it’s not that bad. What are you going to do after our exams?”

“Dunno,” said Fred solemnly. “Haven’t thought. Probably stay here with Old Tom. You’ll be off to do you’re A Levels or something!”

“Yes, probably. Just want to pass really. Look! Did you see that?”

“No. What?”

“That shadow. Yeah, I know it’s black down here, but I’m sure I saw something move.”

“WHAH!” It was clearer now; more distinct.

“I’m sure I saw something,” said Si, as they stopped to look. Fred moved the torch slowly around and they strained their eyes. Something did move. As quick as a flash a black figure with bright eyes snarled at them, “what do you want?” came a raspy voice.

“Arrrgh!” both Fred and Si screamed, turned and legged it as fast as they could out of the tunnel. They ran and turning right down the tunnel they had come down, and headed towards the entrance. All four feet pounding the floor, arms by their sides, their screams continuing as they headed towards the light of the outside. Out they came, breathing hard. Faster they ran until they were well clear of the tunnel entrance.

“What the hell was that?” panted Si.

“I don’t know. She looked ghastly. Did you see those eyes?” Fred bent over to get his breath back.

“That gentleman was Lady Victoria. The witch of local Tinsdale Farm. Banished she was. Many a year ago…for casting a spell on the Hudson family. Legend has it Farmer Hudson stole her heart to marry Mary Winston, and as revenge made them infertile in both human and land. Farmer Hudson never recovered and killed himself shortly after they married. Mary dug deep and found out that it was Lady Victoria’s spell, and campaigned her to be hanged. The guard spared Lady Victoria and banished her. Rumour has it she’s never left Farmer Hudson and has remained here ever since. She’s been hanging around his grave and doesn’t like to be disturbed”

Both boys stood there stunned. Fred spoke, eventually, “What?”

Old Tom chuckled, staggered himself up off the rock with this wooden stick and edged towards the pair.

“How do you think she’s still alive all this time, eh?” he shuffled towards the cave entrance.

A moment or two later a boney hand appeared and took the bag from his fingers, “thanks Tom,” a female voice pleasantly.

Tom smiled and they parted. The dark hold covered her up completely and all they could hear were her feet disappearing.

Both boys were too still too stunned to speak. They had just witnessed and great mythical tale in real life.

“So…so…so…is it true?” stuttered Fred.

“Oh yes its true my boy. You promise me never to go in that cave again?” he said sternly.

Both boys nodded furiously.

“Come on lads, let’s get you home. I followed you and waited. I knew you were headed here. Now, go home, study and get out of this place. It’s no place for studious boys.” Both of them listened thoughtfully and nodded. “Never go there again!”

Writing challenge

Sharon's Challenge for myself & Chris

Up to 1000 words using the prompt;
a new boyfriend or girlfriend, an anonymous letter, and some terrible advice

~~~~~~~~~~

“I knew I shouldn't have taken Aunt Val’s advise!” Lorraine let out an exasperated sigh. “”Get back on the saddle, she says. Best way.”” Lorraine fumed at Tracy, taking a sip of her mug of coffee.

Tracy sighed too. Yet again Lorraine was getting her knockers in a twist. Everyone knew Lorraine had not given it long enough after James before she partnered up with Steve. Lorraine's welcomed the attention from Steve and succumbed to it without giving it a proper thought.

“How could Steve go off with Amanda like that? No thought to me in any way.” Tracy listened patiently to Lorraine ranting. “He didn’t even care about me. I blame Aunt Val. She said to go for it. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea”, she said. James was just so great, so perfect! I thought we’d be together forever.” Tracy thought that too. Well, everyone did! Lorraine and James were great for eachother. They met at University. James took a year out to go travelling. Lorraine took a year to go and work in her father’s company in America. They survived that year apart. Ten more years together, and James disappears!

Tracy sipped on her hot tea and gradually ate her Victoria Sponge, moist and light. Lorraine stared out of the cafe window to gaze at the sea. Silence fell between them. A comfortable silence. Two best friends enjoying time together in Cafe Heaven. Lorraine sips her black coffee and ignores her gluten free chocolate cake. Her appetite had vanished. Tracy looked, she noticed how sad Lorraine looked; vacant even. Even the red and white striped table cloth did nothing for Lorraine’s complexion.

Fourteen wonderful years together and no indication that anything was wrong. Lorraine had been to some amazing places to see James, as a Sales Rep for one of the leading major hotels. The only thing she had to pay for were the flights, and even they were massively discounted.

Their tea and coffee diminished, but the cake remained. “Are you going to eat that Lorraine?” Tracy asked, as Lorraine continued to stare out of the window. “Oh well, I’ll eat it then,” and she did just that. Every last crumb.

“Hello sweetheart I’m home,” James took off his jacket, hung it up on the oak coat hanger, and placed his briefcase on the chair under the large oak mirror above. He checked himself out, a brown haired handsome chap. “Yes, he still had the good looks at thirty-three!” he said to himself before walking down the hallway in his nine bedroomed mansion and opened the kitchen door. Nothing but the best wood. Within the kitchen was his beautiful glossy black haired wife, Michelle. She was by the AGA frying off a thick cut piece of steak, turned around, and smiled. They walked towards each other and hugged. He loved coming home to his wife and kissed her full on the lips. “How was your day darling?” he kissed her again.

“It was ok today. A few boring meetings before court. Preliminary proceedings before the full case begins. He’s so guilty, but I have to represent him. It’s taken a lot of work and a lot of favours to get the experts on my side. We’ll get him from murder to manslaughter.” she sighed.

“I’m sure you’ve done your best and will get the best result. You always do. How about we curl up on the sofa and watch a film tonight? Not long til our tenth wedding anniversary.”

“Not tonight James. I’m sorry, but I have so many reports to do. He’s not going to get manslaughter that easy. I still need to go through his files and come up with something. Diminished responsibility isn’t going to work. The jury will see right through him. I feel we’re losing them too! But I will be available for our anniversary. I promise!”

“Come here then and give me a kiss,” they held each other tighter. James couldn’t be happier and couldn't wait for his anniversary to the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. He knew hed done the right thing, at last! He can’t believe he’d gotten away with it all these years. Now, he was free to be with Michelle forever. Nothing was going to get in his way...

Dear Lorriaine,

    I met you once at a conference in Singapore about ten years ago. You blew me away with your effervescent smile. Unfortunately you were with James at the time. How I envied him! He didn’t deserve you! Absolutely no way! That was until I attended his wedding to Michelle. She’s a Solicitor from Bristol. They married in Mauritius when they were 23…

Lorraine broke down. What was she reading? She looked at the envelope, yes, it was for her, her name and address on it. What going on? She texted Tracy from her kitchen table. A modest kitchen her and James had designed together; neutral and convenient.

Hi Tracy, come quick, I’ve something to show you xx

She fired off the text. Lorraine had gotten home from work, a secretary for a soiicitor’s firm in Central Leeds. Michelle, who was Michelle? She knew Townsend and Taylors Solicitors very well, been there for years, was there a Michelle? Had there been?

Tracy came into the kitchen, Lorraine was whiter than usual, trembling. “What’s the matter Lorraine. Tell me, what’s up?”

Lorraine handed her the letter. “I got this and read as far as 23,” she cried, “I can’t read anymore!”

...I seen you numerous times these past few years, and I knew I had to say something. James is living in London with Michelle. I thought you should know. Signed P

Tracy continued to read the letter.

“Bastard!” Lorraine whispered through tears, “wait til I catch up with that bastard. I’ll show that bastard!”

Tracy hugged Lorraine for hours, days. Disbelief! She too would help Lorraine to get the bastard!

My Tree

I see the trees.

They talk to me.

I hear their story

Of a long time ago.

A thousand stories.

They talk to me

Of years of history.

The evolution of centuries.

But who planted you,

My faithful chunky tree?

Where is your seed?

What is your story?

What will I find

In your history

Of years gone by?

You grew and grew

From a sapling

To a hearty healthy tree.

The stories you can tell

Of years of history.

You all grew together

As one big family.

Through years of stories

And watching families

From young to old.

Forests to man-made tools

That denseness evaporates,

As buildings you now create

But I still sit to see

My tree that talks to me.

Poem challenge

Poetry challenge set by
Chris https://www.authorchrisbrown.wordpress.com
for me and Sharon https://www.wordsandwoes.com.

Must include the following words:

Peacock
Fountain Pen
Tea Party
Old Fashioned Phone Box

Styled on a minute poetry, this is my poem:

I power into Paperchase.
I'm in for days.
I stop in owe;
Always want more.

So many different designs.
Each week new lines;
Flamingos, cats,
Travel, peacocks.

Old fashioned phone box themed notebooks.
Tea party tea cups.
Stationery
And fountain pens.

Fear

My challenge to write a piece headed FEAR of 250 words (ish)...

I moved to North Yorkshire I needed practice in open water. I learned of a lake in the Richmond area and went.

Oh my goodness, how scary, get me out of here…NOW! Swimming in a lake is DEFINITELY not like swimming in an indoor pool; lanes, lifeguards, measured, see the bottom, and safe! I mean, who wants to get eaten by Jaws? No-one, so why! I dipped in, and swan to the buoy. I swam back. No way! Got to do this, I thought! I can do this! But, I cannot see the bottom. No way! I swam back to the buoy. Panicked, and got out, fast! Fear had taken over and that was it!

The following year I tried again. Still battling against this fear I tried; heart racing, fast breathing, etc.

Although this is a diving and water sports lake I have since learned that yes, there are various vehicles on the bottom, but that is all. No bodies or even Jaws! This still does not quite install any faith in me, still convinced Jaws is lurking in these murky waters.

There is one particular part where I do have to swim breast-stroke with my head out of the water. Seriously, swimming front crawl I can turn my head under the water’s surface and there is a small boat, and if I come upon it I freak out! My heart stops, I tighten, and I immediately freeze. Something really might come out of it and attack me.

Fear, as I have it, is an irrational thought conjuring imaginary processes that I succumb to.

NB. I write this, on Sunday 28th May 2017, I got in from work last night. I was flicking through the channels and Jaws started. That was the second time I watched it all the way through without be scared.

Moonville

George sat there next to the kitchen table with an empty Coke bottle, double sided sticky tape, straws, card, and a plank of wood watching Blue Peter. He watched avidly listening to every word the presenter said. Their immaculately presented materials on their white clean table and the “here’s what I did earlier,” demonstrations. George was hooked. Although he was struggling to keep up, this wasn’t today’s society of pausing the programme. George hurriedly stuck all the pieces together. The mess he created in the kitchen was horrendous. Bits of tape stuck to the table, the back of the tape scattered across the floor. He’d accidentally knocked the box of straws, cascading on to the floor. He was too busy to finish his project to pick all it up. He felt pretty chuffed with himself when he eventually finished and grinned like a Cheshire cat full of pride.

In walked his mum. “George,” she exclaimed, “what happened?”

George, full of smiles held up his handiwork, wanting, waiting for approval.

Her hand clasped over her mouth towards the mess George has created. It was going to take forever to clean up, she throught, as she placed a couple of shopping bags on the work surface, exasperated! George still positioned himself with his work waiting for a response. She turned, feeling she ought to comment. In doing so she switched off the television, disgusted that she allowed it in the first place, and pick up George’s work.

A piece of wood as the base with straws standing at one end to hold a rolled piece of paper angled at 45 degrees, from the other end of the wood resting inbetween the straws. And the coke bottle inside the paper cylinder. A rocket and rocket launcher!

“Well done George, let’s get this kitchen tidy,” mum asked as George groaned. The worst part of all his creations, inventions is the tidying up. After chatting non stop they finished with his rocket launcher sitting proudly on the window sill for everyone to admire.

As the week ticked on many a conversation was held in reference to the rocket. George wanted it to shoot off and set about with this mum to make it fly. With careful attention they set up the kitchen table with vinegar, baking soda, a balloon, a rubber band, pin, a marker pen and cling film.

George and his mum filled the rocket with required amount of vinegar, then they put backing soda into the cling film and wrapped it like a parcel, but not too tight, so it could loosen inside the rocket. George carefully placed a dot on the balloon and poked a hoed through it with the pin, putting it to one side. With his tongue sticking out with concentration and his mum behind him he placed the soda parcel carefully in the neck of the rocket and fixed the balloon tightly over the rocket neck with the rubber band. Both of them slowly took the rocket and launcher outside and set it down on the concrete slabs.

“Now, George, be careful not to get the baking soda in the vinegar just yet.”

“Ok, I won’t,” George beamed with excitement.

Very slowly he tipped the rocket at the angle to fit inside its launcher, stood back, and waited. His mum holding him, she’d not done this before. They waited for the parcel to drop into the vinegar, unravel and work its magic.

Whoosh! A white cloud shot in the air followed by the rocket.

“Wow,” gasped George.

“Incredible,” gasped his mum also.

“This is brilliant mum, can we do it again,” he pleaded as the rocket floated down to the ground.

“It was good, wasn’t it,” his mum stood open mouthed.

George tugged on his mum’s cardigan and pleaded again, “can we? Again please mum,” bright eyed and smiling.

The afternoon was filled with whooshes as George continued his quest.

The next day whilst his mum and dad were busy gardening George took it upon himself to have more goes with his rocket, making more soda parcels. This time he carefully stuffed in two. Unfortunately it malfunctioned, reacting together too quickly as he was catapulted into the air screaming. He shot up and up. “Arrrgh,” he yelled as he continued higher and higher, and looked downwards to see his house getting smaller and smaller. But as he flew higher and higher he was beginning to enjoy himself. “This is cool,” he smiled continuing to grip tightly onto the rocket. He zoomed quickly into the white fluffy clouds. “Urgh, so wet,” he explored, seeing the droplets of water all around. He got soaked zooming the crevasses of fog. Appearing out of the other side the sun shone drying him instantly. He had to tightly close his eyes from the initial brightness of the sun, and then he saw the moon and the rocket seemed to have a route heading straight for it: the moon was the intended target! George was getting a bit frightened now, as he didn’t fully understand what was going to happen. The moon grew and grew in size as he got closer and closer. He landed in spectacular style, let go of the rocket and somersaulted forwards before he gradually stopped.

Eventually, he sat up, a bit dazed and confused as to what had just happened. He looked around blurry eyed getting his thought together.

“Where am I,” he puzzled. He didn’t recognise this at all. He began to focus and set upon a figure walked towards him. An arm stretched out, “my name is Anna, welcome,” she smiled, waiting for him to shake hands.

“Well, this is very formal, Anna. How do you do?” he mused.

“I’m very good. What is your name?”

“George. Wh…wh…wh…where am I?” he stammered.

“You are on Moonville, we like to call it, but it’s the Moon,” she spoke so eloquently.

He looked around noticing that it didn’t look like cheese, as everyone had said it would. He noticed Anna and how pretty she looked in a purple skirt and yellow t-shirt. She was also bare footed. Specks of dust floated with each step she took.

“And what is Moonville,” he asked.

“Moonville is my home. My family came here back in 2015 when Earth built a space rocket to fly to the Moon. We were chosen from a television competition. A new concept to improve television ratings with the likes of ‘The Voice’, ‘X Factor’, ‘Big Brother’ being so old. A famous person invented this competition to take a family to the Moon,” she sighed, “we’ve been here ever since. The space rocket just took off once we landed. My brother, mum and dad have had to survive, clueless. We’ve been longing to be rescued.”

“So, how did you know about me,” he enquired.

“Steve, my brother, mum and dad have long since given up. But I am still hopeful we will be rescued. Ever the dreamer, they keep saying,” she sighed again. George just stared at her. She radiated with elegance.

So, what year are we here,” he asked, as he had finally gotten on his feet.

“Well, I guess it’s 2015. I’ve been counting. Although it’s been hard as it’s always dark. I look towards the Earth and see the change of lightness and darkness and have counted since then. It goes be so quickly.” She gazed longingly out towards the stars against the dark sky. Her blonde hair pulled back into a gun. She wiped a stray hair from her face. George smiled at her.

Amazingly it wasn’t cold as George through the Moon would be and although dark he could still see clearly through the illumination of the Moon’s surface. There was a slight breeze, but “wow,” he gasped looking around. It was just how he imagined with craters, rocks, baron; it was awesome! There were ups and downs, but he didn’t float. His rocket was gently fizzing out as he thought back as to what had just happened. He couldn’t quite believe it, so cool, wait til school here about this! He looked at his hands, yep, still there! His legs, yep they’re here too! He patted himself down, all in one piece! He was truly flabbergasted, he couldn’t believe it!

“Wow,” he amazed again, “What’s it like living on the Moon,” he enthusiastically asked.

“Quite boring really, and there is nothing to do. We have had to make everything ourselves. It’s like going back in time, except we’ve gone forward. We have had to start from scratch, but dad was a mechanic, good with his hands. So he and Steve have built this really good car to get around. We walked and wondered for days getting to grips with it all. Amazing at first, but as time moved on it became less and less interesting. I like to wander and wait to be rescued. I knew someone would come,” Anna said bursting George’s excitement.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” George scratched his head somewhat deflated, “I was just messing with this homemade rocket and it accidentally brought me here. Quite amazing really,” he thought has he gazed at Anna thinking she was very pretty.

“So, what’s it like on Earth,” she enquired.

“Well, not much going on really. There’s still crappy telly. Doctor Who is on, which is cool. But it’s still 2015. I live with my mum and dad. That’s all.”

She coyly looked at him with her arms crossing in front of her. She couldn’t believe her luck; someone had finally come to rescue them. And, he was cute.

“I can’t say I’ve heard of what you did on the telly competition. I like to read and play games with mum and dad.”

She came closer, kissed him on the cheek, held out her hand indicating for him to follow.

“Why don’t I take you to my family and see what they’ve done. They won’t believe you have come.”

They held hands and sparks flew between them as their fingers clasped each other’s. What was he thinking? He was only 9. What is this feeling anyway?

“How old are you,” he asked.

“I’m 10,” she replied.

Smiling to eachother she guided him to her house. They watched the flare of dust as they walked on the surface. It was so mesmerising. Still holding hands they chatted and laughed to her house. They seemed to walk for ages, over boulders, down crevasses. It was really good fun. At last they arrived and he stood frozen to the spot and stared at the house in front of him. How could they build something like this? And a garage too? He stood in awe!

She quickened her pace and soon they both ran to the front door. Anna couldn’t hold her excitement, “mum, dad, Steve,” she shouted, “George has come to save us. I told you someone would. I told you!”

George once again stood looking in amazement at everything. “Wh…wh…what…look at all of this? How did you get this? How did you make this out of nothing?” He spun around indicating the nothingness outside. “It’s amazing!”

Anna’s mum, dad and Steve had all come to see what Anna was shouting about. All dressed casually. Even they couldn’t believe George was here. All of them had given up.

“Well, we catch each item when it flies in the atmosphere. Some gets dumped and we pick it up. You’ll be amazed with what people throw out.” Steve stepped forward and introduced himself. The house was built out of people’s throw outs and, the toys lying around. Steve and his dad had built them too. All sorts of things including cars, dinosaurs, etc. There were no on/off switches either, but electric currencies flowing through that once the two pieces of wire made contact together, that would allow the toy to come to alive. Steve showed him each toy. George was so excited.

“So, have you come to save us?” Anna’s dad asked bringing George back to reality.

George stopped and explained about his homemade rocket. About how he was messing about and ended up on Moonville by mistake. All of them stood and listened, chest fallen, but his story, feeling somewhat neglected. “But, I’ll tell you what. I’ll go back down and come back with better equipment to take you home,” he quickly finished.

Anna’s dad thought long and hard, and decided it was the best idea. After all, how were 5 people going to fit on the homemade rocket anyway? Steve and his dad scrambled about making more rocket fuel to enable George to get home.

George kissed Anna on the cheek, she blushed. She was going to miss him, but it won’t be long before he comes back for her, she beamed. As though reading her mind George reassured his return, and she nodded in agreement.

The countdown began, 10…9…8…to the end and Boom! He took off faster than he arrived hurtling towards his patio. He whizzed and whizzed til he landed safely, buzzing with excitement.

He told his story in the “show and tell” class on Monday morning, and that’s when he knew he wanted to be an astronaut.