Cattitude and Gratitude

I've really enjoyed the challenge and the way it's forced me to write something every day. Mostly I've enjoyed connecting with other bloggers from around the world. It's been lots of fun and I hope we can continue to connect. Here is a short dialogue piece I wrote based on the letter Z for inspiration. I enjoy the challenge of trying to write totally in dialogue like a play.  “Do you know you were once a zygote, Zara?” “Mom, Zack called me a goat!” “Quiet! I’m not taking you guys to the zoo if you keep this up.” “Zack started it.” “Hey, Zara is that a zit I see?” “You’re one to talk, Zombie Face!” “You kids are driving me nuts. Who needs to go to the zoo when it’s like one here?” “Zack’s the zany one. He should spend more time on his math instead of zooming around on his scooter. Do you know he got zero on his test?” “Is that true, Zack? You didn’t tell me.” “Zara, for that I’m going to zap you with my zippy zig zag zinger gu

Yesterday’s youth has come and gone Grey hair and wrinkles thrive, But the aging battle can be won If I keep my inner child alive, My inner child is doing well She is waiting and always near, Though I can’t always tell When she’ll decide to appear, She is creative and full of fun She’s ready for anything, She likes to scamper in the sun She likes to write and sing, Yesterday’s youth seems far away But my inner child will remain, She’s always ready to seize the day And go dancing in the rain.

Here we are nearly at the end of the challenge. Bravo to my fellow bloggers for seeing it through to the end! You`re all an inspiration to me! I decided to do a story for this one with a theme of hope. Might be wishful thinking to be open-minded like Anna, but it sure can`t hurt.  “Look, Dad. The new neighbours have moved in. I think I’ll go welcome them,” Anna looked out the kitchen window at the teen boy working in the yard next door. His skin was so beautiful and reminded her of their teak table that she liked to polish to a golden brown shine. His dark eyes and hair were so different from her green eyes and red hair. “Immigrants aren’t like us, Anna. You’ll be disappointed,” her father said gulping down his last bit of coffee and grabbing his briefcase.   “Of course they’re like us, Dad. So they come from a different country and speak a different language. We’re all the same deep down. You worry too much.”  “You always see everything as so rosy, Anna. Life isn’

To be a writer is a wondrous thing But it’s not for the faint of heart, Writing can make my heart sing Or I don’t know where to start, When the words flow, it feels so great The world looks rosy and fine, When they don’t, I stay up late I whimper, moan and whine, Writer’s block is hard to fight It often gets in the way, It makes it very hard to write More than I can say, When writer’s block hits, I feel so low I feel like giving up for good, It’s all part of the writing ebb and flow And so misunderstood Times like that, I take a break I do something mundane, I wait for ideas to bake And cook up in my brain, When I've banished the writing blues I return and what do I see? I think I’ll make him into my Muse Kobie Cat inspires me!

Dear Letter V, I was full of vim and vigour first thing this morning with visions of writing beautiful verse or a wonderful version of a story, but my Muse Vivian vanished and took a temporary vacation. She left me feeling so vulnerable with a bunch of lame verse and prose of no value whatsoever. *Sad violins play* I am very vexed that my Muse Vivian was off with her vapid friends. Talk about a violation of her contract. And to vex me further, she broke my favourite Venitian vase. I may need to take some Valium. Later I heard Vivian’s vocal talents down at Vernon’s Village Pub. She’d definitely been into the Vino! So much for opening a vein and letting the blood pour onto the page today. It ain’t gonna happen. So I'm off to Italy in my imagination to visit Venice . Maybe I will ask for help from the Goddess Venus since Vivian is so useless. So sorry V. Nothing personal. Love Cat

Sorry that my face is so red but that's what happens  when you stand on your head! Remember standing on your head as a child Back when we were so crazy and wild? Upside down is such a funny view The world looks so strange to you, What if everything was upside down? Would my smile become a frown? Would I always bump my head Every time I got out of bed? It would be hard to try and dress My outfits would be such a mess, Eating food would be so hard I’d have to eat out in the yard, Being upside down is great fun for a while But being right side up is more my style!

Today I am featuring some photos  for Wordless Wednesday  but of course I had to throw in some of my rhyme.  I just can't help myself! You know me! T is for Tomato and T is for treat Both are so much fun to eat, And there's something so lovely about a Tree Always such a joy to see! T is for Time and it's going fast Darn, I wish I could make it last! And finally here's a Text for you That's all the T words I'm going to do!

So many great words start with S I can’t pick one, I must confess, I love Santa, sweet and sing Sunshine, Summer, snack and Spring, Silence, safe, secure and savour Saffron is a special flavour, And a good sail or sale is hard to resist There are more S words than I can list, Swan, seal, slug, and sea, Sulk, secret, soon and spree, And watching a sunset as it slips away Is the sweetest ending to a special day. Too many great words start with S I can’t pick one, I must confess. Sunset on the St. Lawrence River, 2013

Now you may be wondering if my two humans, Paul and Miriam are friends, living in the same brownstone apartment building. Not a chance. Even when they pass each other in the entrance, they barely say a word. While it isn’t an easy job dividing my days between these two charity cases, it gives me a purpose for getting up in the morning. Besides, I get fed twice which is a cat’s dream. To Paul I’m Fred. To Miriam I’m Barney. I don’t mind. Just don’t call me late for dinner. One rainy day I take matters into my own paws. I watch and wait by the entrance, imagining Miriam tumbling into Paul’s arms in one of those romantic moments you only read about. As Miriam is leaving for her library shift and Paul is arriving home, I leap from the bushes and cause Miriam to trip. Big mistake. Miriam tumbles. But not into Paul’s arms as I’d envisioned. Instead she hurtles headfirst into a big mud puddle and all her books go flying. I think she’s crying though it’s hard to tell u

Today I'm going to tackle two challenges in one with my A-Z challenge post of Q is for Quill and  Write Tribe's 100 words on a Saturday "Quite Quietly". Fun to try adding "q" words. Quill’s bottom lip quivered as she approached the front of the class. She pushed her glasses back onto her nose and opened her mouth, but all that came out was a faint squeak.  “We can’t hear you!” Quentin heckled. “Quiet, Quentin,” Mrs. Quant warned. Quill turned and glared at Quentin. Sparks flew, followed by a loud explosion.  A garter snake appeared on Quentin’s chair, falling to the floor and slithering away. The kids and Mrs. Quant screamed and ran from the room. “Cool,” Quill said quite quietly, impressed with her newly found powers. Her doormat days were over at last.

Cleaning the porridge pot is not for the meek It takes special cleaning staff, Separating the strong from the weak Like separating wheat from chaff, So gummy and sticky, you could use it for glue That porridge is amazing gloop, You could fix up the sole on that old busted shoe Or make some Porridge soup, Off it goes into the compost bin But wait, don’t be so hasty, I’ve heard porridge is good for the skin And the remnants are very tasty, Pease Porridge Hot or Pease Porridge Cold I won't clean a dirty pot that's nine days old!

I love to go to the ocean And stand on the rocky shore, I look out to the horizon And listen to the roar, The waves surge forth all frothy and light They crash and explode in a burst of white, Salty spray is everywhere Drying and crusting in my hair, I live far from the ocean So I go there in my mind, Worries all but disappear And there I can unwind, When I’m at the ocean’s edge There is no pretense, The universe is as it should be And everything makes sense. Below is a video I made of waves on the Bras D'Or Lake, the inland sea that makes up such a big part of Cape Breton. Here is a map to show what I mean.  I thought it would be soothing to always have the waves to watch and listen to, even when I'm over a thousand miles away. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Hope you find them soothing, too.

Today my N word is Now and here is a poster I made combining a photo I took this morning and a very timely quote by Ralph Waldo Emmerson. I'm trying a different kind of poem today instead of my usual rhyming ones that I tend to like writing. I did a bit of research thanks to my trusty pal, Google and decided to try writing a Pantoum Poem about "Now."  I found an explanation and example of a Pantoum Poem at this link. Fun to try something different NOW and then. https://www.youngwriters.co.uk/types-pantoum A Pantoum is a type of poem with a verse form consisting of three stanzas. It has a set pattern within the poem of repetitive lines. The pattern in each stanza   is where the second and fourth line of each verse is repeated as the first and third of the next. The pattern changes though for the last stanza to the first and third line are the second and fourth of the stanza above (penultimate). The last line is a repeat of the first starting line of the p

The sound of someone singing off key brought me to my senses and I opened my eyes to the blinding sunlight. Seaweed and sand filled my mouth and I struggled to sit up, coughing and spitting out sea water. My head pounded and dizziness overtook me when I tried to stand up. The last thing I remembered, I’d been with my fiancé, Maureen, enjoying cocktails on the deck of Mr. Anderson’s yacht with my other work colleagues. Mr. Mahar had just begun to tell me about how I was like a son to him when a big wave surged over the boat’s railing taking me with it. “You sure did bump your head, didn’t you?” a female voice said nearby and I squinted in the sunlight trying to see who was talking. “Who said that? Do I know you?” “It’s me, Meredith.” “Did you save me?” I asked. “Well, I couldn’t just let you drown, could I?” She swam closer and a head popped out of the water. Dreadlocks sprung from her head like Medusa’s snakes. “Are you a lifeguard?  I rubbed my poundin

I’m known around these parts as Legendary Loup Yes, online admirers, it’s really true, Handsome and rugged, fierce and strong Able to growl or burst into song,  Arf, arf, roooooooo! Cathy likes to call me Leftover Loup What’s a scavenging dog to do? With all the garbage I pick up around here I could be a sanitation engineer, So many treats, so little time Just thinking about it is sublime, Spring thaw is the best time to find a treat So many yummy things to eat, A stale donut, a worn out shoe Rotten fries of a greenish hue, A half-eaten hamburger in a cardboard box Gotta grab it before the fox, Legendary Leftover Loup, that’s me I’m an amazing doggie as you can see!

I am writing this for the Write Tribe's Wednesday prompt  "Use it up, wear it out, make do or do without" I got it confused with the 100 words on a Saturday and made it 100 words, too. Oh well. Always fun to make it fit to a word count.  “Why do you bother being so environmental, Mom? No one else cares that much about saving the planet,” Glenn said, wheeling the green compost bin across the snowy driveway. “Look at that!” He pointed to the big bags of garbage out front of their neighbours’ house. “At least I’m doing my part, however small and that makes a difference,” his mother said as she lugged the blue box to the curb. “What do you mean?” "As Mahatma Ghandi wisely said, 'You may never know what results come of your action, but if you do nothing there will be no result.'"      

That Kobie cat is such a brat, Always into this and that, He loves to watch the water run A flushing toilet is so much fun, He likes to take a relaxing nap Or knead his paws on my ample lap, Getting into mischief is what he does best He puts my patience to the test, If curiosity kills the cat, he’s burst his bubble That cat can never stay out of trouble, Kobie brightens up the dullest day Always cheerful and ready to play, He has a good time and doesn’t worry He’s never stressed or in a hurry, I could really learn a lot from that cat To live in the moment and enjoy where I’m at!

Jupiter is the fifth planet from the Sun Of all our planets, it’s the biggest one, If I worried about my weight before On Jupiter I’d weigh ten times more, With 67 moons, it must be bright Enough to keep us up at night, And if 24 hours is not enough hours in the day Jupiter’s nine hours would cause much dismay, If you think we have long storms here The Red Spot Storm lasts year after year, It sounds bleak with all that gravity and gas If people ever travel there, I think I’ll pass, Jupiter is fun to study and read about But Earth is home without a doubt! Composer, Gustav Holst  wrote The Planets back in 1916. It’s always been a favourite orchestral work of mine. If I hear the Jupiter piece, I instantly feel positive and upbeat. When I hear it, I turn the volume up and sing along. I especially like the middle slower section based on a hymn. I'm sure musicians must enjoy playing this piece. It's so powerful and uplifting! Happy Friday, Ev

“Are you waiting for someone? You’ve been here a while. Or are you out on the town by yourself?” “Yes, I’m meeting a guy here, not that it’s any of your business.” “My, you have a chip on your shoulder, don’t you?” “I don’t like nosy people is all.” “It could be a blessing in disguise.” “What do you mean?” “Good men are a dime a dozen. Take me for instance. I’m available.” “Oh, put a sock in it. You’re barking up the wrong tree.” “Stop being such a Fuddy-Duddy. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. What do you say we make hay while the sun shines?” “No thanks. You’re not playing with a full deck. Besides, we’re not on the same page, you and I. You don’t even know me.” “Why not get to know me while you’re waiting? Variety is the spice of life.” “Thanks, but I’ll take a raincheck. “I’m a nice guy, honestly. You act as if I’m from Skid Row or something. Okay. I give up. The ball is in your court." “That’s it. I’m leaving.

My hair grows thinner, my waist grows thick Is this some kind of nasty trick? Instead of hairs growing on my head They’re popping up in other spots instead, I wish it was as red as it used to be When I once sat on my daddy’s knee, Now it’s slowly turning blonde The colour of a murky pond, How I’d like to go back in time To when my hair was in its prime. Here is a photo of me when I was about 5 years old. Sigh. I do like my hair colour as a child. Oh well. There's always hair colouring, right? 

For today's challenge, I'm trying my hand at another story. Usually I like to keep things light and fun but somehow this story took a sinister turn which intrigued me so I went with it. Writing is such a magical and mysterious process and that's why I love it! “Stop peering through the curtain, Janet. They’ll see you,” Hank said looking up from his morning paper. “I’m trying to see the new neighbour. Sue said he’s a TV star.” “You’re too nosy. You need to get a new hobby,” Hank said looking over his reading glasses in disapproval. Or a new hubby, Janet thought to herself. Couldn’t Hank put on a shirt at least? Gone were the days when she grew hot and bothered at the sight of Hank’s bare physique. Now she was just bothered. She turned back to look at the man who had just stepped out of his BMW.  Surely it wouldn’t hurt to go say hello and welcome him to the neighbourhood. She’d bring him some of the cookies she’d just baked this morning for her grandsons Bobby

This time of year is so dirty and drab It’s been a long winter and I’m feeling my flab (OOF! My clothes have shrunk!) Snow is still here, will it ever be gone? I’m starting to wonder if we have a lawn, I can’t wait to see flowers, a sure sign of spring Nothing cheers me up more, not even bling, I especially like wild flowers just like these They sprout up randomly among the trees, The trillium is the flower for Ontario So pure and perfect , the colour of snow, This flower is protected so leave it be Only take a photo for a memory, You mustn’t pick them, whatever you do Trillium police are watching you! Here is a photo of a trillium I took last May. Such gorgeous wild flowers and very fitting to be our provincial flower. Here is an old television commercial from years ago with Ontario's theme song. You will see the trillium featured at the end. I remember us singing this song in school. Ontariariariooooooooo! Ah, nostalgia. Isn't it great?

Elise was an eager young girl from Enniskerry in Eastern Ontario. She enjoyed reading and writing so much that she studied English at university. While on an exciting vacation in England one Easter, she met Eric. They went everywhere together and had an exciting time eating Easter eggs and drinking Earl Grey tea while visiting Exeter. They were so enamoured with each other that they decided to elope. Eric took Elise back to his home in Essex where they bought an estate since Eric’s family were very rich. They lived an elegant lifestyle that had always been elusive to Elise. Elise found the upper class life exhausting and extreme having to keep up appearances. Eric’s evil mother Ernestine made Elise’s life miserable at every opportunity. She thought Elise a commoner from the colonies and not good enough for her Eric. Elise’s usual excitement and energy eluded her. Each endless day became harder to endure and Eric did nothing to help her deal with his mother. Eventually, Eli

I can’t stop doodling no matter how hard I try You non-doodlers are probably wondering why, Doodle, doodle all day long Something this fun can’t be wrong, Doodling is so good for stress Easy to do and there’s no mess, There are no rules about doodling, just so you know You pick up a pencil and away you go, Even a pen or a crayon will do Your choice of paper is up to you, The back of an envelope, a post it note A scrap of paper in your winter coat, Puppies, kittens, a string of pearls Stars, and moon, and lots of swirls, Arrows, faces, hearts and leaves Little girls wearing puffy sleeves Doodle, doodle, doodle all day long I’m just singing the doodling song! Isn't this doodle the best you've seen? Just call me the Doodle Queen! Here is a doodle I did on a pink Post-it Note with a black ballpoint pen.  Do you like to doodle, too?

I’d like to have a house full of cats Just the way some folks have mats, Cats on couches and every chair Wonderful felines everywhere, Short-haired, long-haired, skinny or fat I adore every kind of cat, Sadly I am the owner of only two What’s a cat-loving gal to do? I’d like to have as many cats as socks Can you imagine the smell of the litterbox?

Today I have written a short story with this butterfly brooch as the inspiration. Also I tried to use B words to celebrate the letter B.   I was hanging out at Brenda’s Diner while my wife Barb went to have her hair done. My blank laptop screen awaited my brilliant blog post  And waited...and waited... I bit into my lightly buttered breakfast bagel when I heard a clink behind me.  I bent down and picked up a beaded butterfly brooch that glowed and twinkled in my hand. The butterfly came to life and flew up to the ceiling, a swirl of rainbow-like colours. A flash of light blinded me and I found myself in a shimmering forest by the banks of a babbling brook. Morning sun bathed the branches in a soft golden light. Any moment I expected to see Bambi and his buddies appear through the bushes. “Hi there, Barney , ” a sultry voice said and I looked around in bewilderment . A beautiful buxom blonde girl in a bikini beamed at me. “How do you know my name?” I asked.