Sort Out Your Life

April 17, 2024April 18, 2024 / Dee / 9 Comments

The wardrobe door swung open to display a rack of tightly packed clothes. Bags, haphazardly stowed on the top shelf, shoes jammed on the shelf below the clothes. I am untidy, I admit it.

My husband always said I needed too much of everything.

Listening to the tv programme, ‘Sort Our Your Life’, I stuffed things into a large bin bag. Then found my wedding dress, off its’ hanger, crumpled in a heap at the back. As I held it I remembered that day, all my hopes and dreams. Long before the lies, hurt and final betrayal.

I stuffed it into the bag.

Many thanks to Rochelle for her continued leadership of this great group of Friday

Unscramble, please!

March 21, 2024March 22, 2024 / Dee / 18 Comments

I can hear him breathing, very quietly, next to me. I wonder what it will be like when he is no longer beside me.

He no longer remembers what day it is.

He tells me his brain is scrambled and full of fog. Sometimes his nightly tablet makes things much clearer for a time and he wakes feeling refreshed.

I lie there as thoughts come and go. ‘What about me?’

‘How am I supposed to deal with this?’

‘How long have we got before he forgets me?’

Tomorrow we will walk in the park. He has always liked it there.

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Thank you to Rochelle for always being there and to the many Fictioneers who, unlike me, manage to post every week. Life has thrown a curveball and doesn’t leave me much ‘me’ time to write as I would like.

The Supper Club

March 13, 2023March 13, 2023 / Dee / 12 Comments

(Photo © Jennifer Pendergast)

Maria bought the food and wine and selected her best linen for the table.

Hugh said fish pie wasn’t a good idea, it was child’s food and messy, he preferred
steak. He changed the wine glasses, removed the flowers questioning why she
thought this club was a good idea.

The Supper Club attendees loved the meal and thanked them for an enjoyable evening
Hugh said they were patronising and steak would have been better.

Maria cleared away, smiling to herself. Hugh would have steak tomorrow
night, with the mushrooms she had found growing at the back of the garden.

The Bootmaker

March 30, 2022March 30, 2022 / Dee / 14 Comments

The Bootmaker

After a five-year apprenticeship as a bootmaker and despite a lifelong limp, John Lobb walked 250 miles to London seeking to promote his skills to London society. He was turned down repeatedly, so journeyed to Australia during the gold rush, there creating hollow heeled boots for miners to hide contraband nuggets.

Still longing to establish himself in London, he made a speculative pair of riding boots for the Prince of Wales, returning from Australia in 1863 to great acclaim. He opened shops in London and Paris. He died in 1895 and is buried in Highgate Cemetery.

(Hermes acquired the brand in 1976 read more here www.johnlobb.com)

As usual, many thanks to Fairy Blogmother, Rochelle, for her dedication each week

Between the Covers

February 17, 2022February 17, 2022 / Dee / 26 Comments

The book shelf is very much like my own at home. Spotting the book on Florence & Tuscany reminded me of a conference in Nice…

Genre: Memoir

Word Count 100

Between the Covers

I was in Nice for a conference. Giovanni had invited me to a small Italian restaurant and hearing him talk about Florence was wonderful. I felt I had already climbed the Campanile, crossed the Arno to the Priti Palace, strolled through the amazing Boboli Gardens. I knew I had to visit

Later, he invited me to his room for a nightcap, I have to admit I was tempted, but one thing would surely lead to another and I was due to fly home tomorrow.

Flying home, I read the Eyewitness Guide bought at the airport. It was safer between these covers…

I have been lucky enough to visit Florence two or three times, I fell in love with it the first time. This book has been invaluable.

Past Forgetting

August 2, 2017August 2, 2017 / Dee / 45 Comments

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

PAST FORGETTING

It’s easy to forget.

My mother would say this in her ‘martyr’ voice, on her birthday, when there was nothing from my father.

The flowers he sent on the birthday after their divorce, were sent back to him chopped up in small pieces. He got the message

The years that followed were not easy. While my mother fumed, he apologised repeatedly to my sister and I. Although sad, we were adult enough to accept parents are only human, and deserve happiness too.

At his funeral, I held her whilst she sobbed, ‘I’ve lost him now.’

It’s not easy to forget.

Thank as always to Rochelle our ‘Fairy Blogmother’ for still finding time to sprinkle her fairy dust and to all other F’Fers you are a great group of writers.

No Mention

March 22, 2017March 22, 2017 / Dee / 33 Comments

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

No Mention

The estate agent’s glossy brochure is very appealing. Family home, six bedrooms, five bathrooms, annexe suitable for student or older person, large gardens with summer house and various out-buildings.

No mention of the room at the top of the house. The room with no windows. The room with thick carpets and sound proofed walls. The room with mirrors and wardrobes full of clothes – if those things could be called clothes. No mention of the camera or the screen with five padded chairs placed behind it.

I was fifteen when I was first taken there.

No mention of that either.

Good to be back, it’s been a while. Hope you’ve all been keeping well. Thanks to our Fairy Blogmother, our ever busy, very productive leader Rochelle.

City Girl

June 3, 2016June 3, 2016 / Dee / 24 Comments

I’m grateful for a re-run this week. After years of searching we finally have a holiday home in France – more about that later. It has take up a lot of our time and I have missed chances to post anything as the internet connection at present is so slow, so very happy to offer up this post from 2012.

Thanks as ever to Rochelle who is busy being an author and getting the third book in her series ready for publication

For more stories –

40again's Blog

(thanks to Piya Singh for the photo)

The auction guide said 75,000; the place was almost a ruin it would take a lot of time and money to make it habitable.

Rose pouted, her Manolos were scratched, her hair a mess. Sam smiled, “could be beautiful” he said.

Rose glowered and thought of what she could buy with 75,000+

It would never be beautiful, she frowned, it was an old ugly mess. She was a city girl.

Sam took her arm and led her inside, showing her his plans for Rose Cottage.

Rose made the front cover of ‘Homes & Gardens.’

Smiling, looking beautiful.

Friday Fictioneers devised by Madison Woods http://madison-woods.com/blog/

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Free Spirits

May 4, 2016 / Dee / 28 Comments

Thanks to Roger Bultot for the photo this week and huge thanks to Rochelle who continues her amazing balancing act – author, artist, Fairy Blogmother…

Genre: Family History

Word Count: 100

Free Spirits

‘Will you catch one for me Fred, please?’

‘They’re wild birds Florrie, I can’t catch them.’

‘Oh, please get me one Fred, please.’

That night he made a small cage and hung it from a branch of the apple tree.

‘That’s as close as I get to catching one for you, sis.’

The soldiers lined up early next morning. Fred looked very smart; my ma cried at the sight of him marching away.

‘Don’t forget to check the cage Florrie,’ he shouted.

‘I’ll check it every day till you’re home.’

I never caught a bird.

Fred never came home.

click Mr Frog for more stories.

Barriers

April 21, 2016 / Dee / 20 Comments

Genre: Fiction

Word Count:100

Barriers

‘Dad, there a truck outside full of barbed wire, d’you know anything about it?’

‘It’s for river meadow. I’m sick of that bloody woman’s dogs worrying our sheep, time to get tough.’

‘You don’t know her dogs are to blame, more likely a fox.’

‘It’s her fault!

I don t know why he hated her. Since I bumped into her in the village, we’ve got on really well. She liked the fact our hair is almost the same colour.

My mother left us when I was small; it’s good to have a woman to talk to occasionally.

Dad wouldn’t understand.

For more stories (Sorry the little blue froggy thing is on strike)