The Daily Prompt: Tell us about a talent you’d love to have… but don’t.
Is being social a talent? I think so. I know many people who are very good at being social. They’re flouncing about with all the “How are you’s?” and “how do you do’s” yet never listening or caring about the answer, but still they are revered. I also know people who can turn this particular talent on and off at random. It’s all about knowing how to charm and be charming. There are those who are sincere in their friendliness and then there are those who are rather false; I’m afraid to say. That type of falsehood causes me to feel rather nauseous.
Anyway, back to the point. I am a supreme loner. In fact I think I could be crowned the queen of loner-ship. The only problem with being such a loner is that now and then I crave friendship. The friendship that is sincere and warm, but I will never get that if I continue living in my sorry loner state.
There is a problem though, and that problem is that I lack the “Social butterfly” talent. Sometimes I wish I had that talent and that I could turn it on at random…and then other times, most times, I just don’t wish that at all.
Duck from the pond
Todays Daily Prompt: Embrace the Ick
Think of something that truly repulses you. Hold that thought until your skin squirms. Now, write a glowing puff piece about its amazing merits.
What an unusual prompt for today. I am ashamed to say that I don’t like frogs. I don’t know if the reason is that I am terrified of them or if it is because of the sort of green sliminess about them. I would not like to hold a frog and cringe inwardly when I see children holding them and examining them. Just imagine if I lived in a fairytale, I would never kiss the frog. When I said that I was ashamed of this, I meant it, I really feel ashamed that I should have a dislike for a living creature. I don’t like feeling that way.
I have two fish ponds at my house. One big one in the back garden and one small little one in the front, and they both have frogs around them. I don’t mind them being around the ponds because it is natural for them, and they need to be there for their survival.
Now the merits. I adore the sounds they make at night. The Night sounds. When everyone is fast asleep, and all the lights are off, it is the most awesome and wonderful thing to listen to the night sounds and the main contributor to this awesome natural music is the frogs.
The Daily Prompt:
Many of us had imaginary friends as young children. If your imaginary friend grew up alongside you, what would his/her/its life be like today?
(Didn’t have one? write about a non-imaginary friend you haven’t seen since childhood.)
You may find this quite silly, but my first imaginary friend was “Noddy.” It will make sense when I tell you that I started having imaginary friends at a very young age. With Noddy I was around five years old. Noddy and I spent many hours driving around in his little red and yellow car – in my mind that is. He also patiently also wiped away many a tear.
As I grew older I had various imaginary friends, ranging from the characters of the “Famous Five”, The Secret Seven and many others. There was also an excruciatingly funny and naughty little boy named “William.” When I was alone my mind and its occupants were my greatest friends.
As I grew older I realised how much I loved detective novels and so I became very good imaginary friends with Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot.
Over the years, I have had so many imaginary friends from the books I have read…so I can boast with having much more imaginary friends than real life ones.
The Daily Prompt:
Good news — another hour has just been added to every 24-hour day (don’t ask us how. We have powers).
How do you use those extra sixty minutes?
If that extra hour meant that it could be my extra hour, a very selfish hour where I can do just what I want –
well then I’d grab it with both hands 🙂
I think I’d put everything off such as TV’s and anything that makes a noise and have an hour of quiet whilst I will read or do something creative.
The Daily Prompt:
Today, write about anything — but you must write for exactly ten minutes, no more, no less.
Usually when I’m not in a rush I take my time writing. You will find me stopping often and staring out of the window. So, ten minutes writing for me is something that could be full or words or hardly any at all. This is why I decided to write about my sweet cat, His Royal Highness. He is a very easy subject to write about.
I have been known to stalk my precious kitty with a camera in hand, hoping for a good shot. Today though, he decided to pose for me. It was most gracious of him to do so. One day I would like to take a video of him as most of the time he actually turns his back on me when he sees me with the camera. It is quite something to see.
If you look at the photo it looks as though rays of light are gleaming from his royal paws. Well, that’s what he thinks anyway. I’m not going to be the one to tell him that it is sunshine shining through the window.
My ten minutes ends here…
I am combining this with “Michelle’s Weekly pet Challenge.” You will find all the details in the logo below 🙂
The Daily Prompt:
What’s the best (or rather, worst) backhanded compliment you’ve ever received? If you can’t think of any — when’s the last time someone paid you a compliment you didn’t actually deserve?
Compliments are strange things. It’s the level at which the praise is given that sometimes bothers me, because often there are underlying motives behind the compliment. I think we become more attuned to the levels of sincerity after a while, especially as we get older.
When I was younger I would swallow any compliments I got, but I learnt the hard way that they were not always as sincere as one would think they are.
I don’t want to undermine the sincere compliment though, those are the ones I appreciate from the bottom of my heart.
One compliment that I will never forget was from one of my eldest daughter’s friends. He said. “You rock Ms H, you rock harder than stones!” I was not too sure if that was a good or bad thing. I checked with daughter after her friend had left and apparently it was a good thing. 😀
Writing seems to be the only way to throw words and emotions out of myself. It is my therapy; if you are a regular reader here, you would have heard that before.
Many years ago I lived with a very nasty, horrible and cruel man. Unfortunately, that man was to be called “Daddy.” I know the question on your mind right now, and I’ll answer straight away, yes he was and is my real flesh and blood father.
You’ll understand if I don’t have the inclination to go into much detail about the abuse right now, because as I write today, I am suffering from yet another bout of a very deep and haunting depression. These bouts of ongoing depression can be directly attributed to the abusive behavior of this horrible man. I don’t want to call him Dad, not father, so from here on he will be referred to as Gert. But this post is not about Gert and his psychopathic behavior, although I do have to mention him as the subject is relevant to what made me start writing.
On the occasions that he was employed, he would work shifts. I would be very scared on the days that I knew he would be home when I got home from school. I took my time walking to our house. When I got there, I tried my best to sneak in quietly and put my school bag down. I quickly took what I needed for homework and would leave as soon as possible, just to miss him. If confronted later that evening as to why I did not come and greet him, I would say that I thought he was sleeping and didn’t want to wake him. It was necessary to feign a really concerned as well as humble expression whilst uttering those words.
“It is the brain, the little gray cells on which one must rely. One must seek the truth within–not without.” ~ Poirot”
― Agatha Christie
Anyway, I would find myself a spot at the library and after doing my homework; I would spend the whole afternoon reading, until I knew mom would be home. You may wonder what I did when we did not live near a library, well, I’ll tell you about that in another post and more than likely on a blog with another name.
My hideaway at the local library was brilliant; it was a place that he would never ever have dreamt of looking for me. We moved often and when we were in walking distance to the library, well, that was a great blessing.
At first I read all the” Famous five” and “Secret Seven” books. I had many a chuckle reading The “Just William” books by Richmal Crompton. After that I moved on to Nancy Drew, and later, whilst all the other girls were reading soppy love stories, I had found a great treasure, and a new best friend, Agatha Christie.
(Above is a photo of one of my very old Agatha Christies, which I just can’t part with)
I read every Miss Marple and every Hercule Poirot book I could find, and from there on, I tried to write my own short mysteries. Sadly, I threw them away as I did not think that I was a good writer at all, and also, I wanted to be able to concoct a plot the way Ms Christie did – which naturally I couldn’t.
Of course, I now have many more favourite authors and many more “book friends.” I have kept all the copies of my old books which were purchased at second hand stores. I have kept those books for many years. Do you also wonder about the people who held that very second hand book that you have at times held and read? I think of people who have read the same second hand, third or fourth hand book as kindred spirits…
I only really started writing again as an adult when a friend suggested I start a blog. I am now busy with (actually for a while now) the writing of a story, my story as a fictional story. Perhaps you will read it one day.
“You start into it, inflamed by an idea, full of hope, full indeed of confidence. If you are properly modest, you will never write it at all, so there has to be one delicious moment when you have thought of something, know just how you are going to write it, rush for a pencil, and start buoyed up with exaltation. You then get into difficulties, don’t see your way out, and finally manage to accomplish more or less what you first meant to accomplish, though losing confidence all the time. Having finished it, you know it is absolutely rotten. A couple of months later, you wonder if it may not be all right after all.”
― Agatha Christie
For: Weekly Writing Challenge, The Daily prompt.