Monday, June 20, 2011

Twitter For Gentle Folk: Hand Painted Cards From Wales

These wonderful hand painted cards were sent from Wales by Mark of, a wonderful place to visit. As you can see, they've been placed in what are called floating frames by yours truly to prevent them being damaged or smudged. They were done by Mark and are beautiful. Alas, my scanner isn't working at the moment or you all would have gotten a closer look. As I will not be home til tomorrow afternoon, I thought I would post this early. I'll have more postcards and another installment of my as yet untitled story soon.

Happy Tuesday!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Edited And Put Together...The First Bits...

Glancing out the window of her bedroom, the woman noticed changes in the sky. The gradual progression from blue to shadowy gray signaled the beginning of her favourite time of day, dusk. Pulling away from her desk, she shut down her computer, temporarily freeing the room and herself from its almost omnipresent fan noise,  something she had grown so accustomed to that it barely dented her consciousness anymore.

Adjusting her grip on the rims of her wheel chair, she rolled out of the room, pausing to turn so she could see beyond the flats' open screen door. A faint breeze, punctuated by  frog song, crept across her face as she made her way to the building's courtyard, a haven of trees and pruned hedges that temporarily kept the din
 from the adjacent road at bay.

In this spot,  it was easy to forget the cares of the day. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she concentrated on slowly inhaling and exhaling, an exercise practised daily in her former life as a student of hatha yoga. She was soon still and almost asleep when her mobile began bleating...

After three attempts, she gave up trying to ignore its beckoning and flipped it open just as a voice was softly saying,"I'm calling regarding Nina..."

Jolted by the mention of her god daughters' name, the woman struggled against an onslaught of words... A lawyer advising her that Bernie and Carol, the little girl's parents, and friends since university, had gone down in their small plane...the Coast Guard had mounted a search...She needed to pick up eight-year-old Nina from school...

Snapping her mobile closed, she made her way back to her flat and opened the door just as the land line phone began to ring. Rolling into her bedroom, she heard Carol and Bernie's longtime housekeeper, Mrs. Guren, say she was on her way to the flat and would be there in less than ten minutes.

Changing her clothes in record time, the woman's mind jumped to images of Nina at her birthday party the month before...all smiles as her parents back garden brimmed with friends, all waiting for the three-tiered chocolate cake Bernie had created...

She began dialing, hoping the housekeeper would answer. Just as the voicemail clicked on, her mobile phone went dead.

A knock at the door and a hello from Mrs. Guren brought her back to the present and the looming question. How does one tell a small girl that her world has collapsed?

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Well, I Can't Say It's Been Boring...

The drying out after my water heater leaked took several long and noisy days. Nine small blue dryers, one large de-humidifying machine, and an air cleaner were installed throughout the flat and although I was promised all were not as loud as the average airport tarmac, I would not take bets on that.

Both the restoration and flooring companies were marvelous; I had no problems with the insurer, either. Apart from the noise and having furnishings on blocks, then choosing new flooring, everything went as smoothly as it could, given the circumstances.  The first photo features a dryer in my closet while the second is perhaps the biggest machine of the lot. The last is the new floor. Normal blogging will resume promptly. Thanks for your patience.