Cattitude and Gratitude

I am participating in the BarAThon with the blogging group, Blog a Rhythm for the weeks of June 14 to 30th. Today's prompt is "Suns and Lovers."  “Is that a new Chica he’s with today?” I asked, squinting against the intense Cuban sun. I reached for my glasses to see more clearly. Both of us hid our pudgy pasty white Canadian bodies under the blue sun umbrellas. Back home we never got exposed to intense sun like this, especially not while working our office jobs for the federal government in Ottawa during winter.  “Yes, it is. I hope he’s paying her well for her escort services. She looks young enough to be his daughter. It’s sickening!” Gabby said, frowning. We watched a balding middle aged man in a skimpy bikini bathing suit that left nothing to the imagination, his big pale white beer belly so white and prominent. He walked hand in hand with a tanned young Cuban woman along the beach. “It was a cheap vacation. What can I say?” I said with a

I am participating in the BarAThon with the blogging group, Blog a Rhythm for the weeks of June 14 to 30th. Today's prompt is "Lord of the Files." I was inspired thinking of all the computer nerds I've worked with over the years in my job as a desktop publisher. Often they lacked in social skills, but on the computer they were boss and we relied on them a lot to solve our computer woes. They were definitely "Lord of the Files." Have you seen that Martin Stiles? Also known as Lord of the Files, Total misfit, what a geek! Pale and pimply, thin and weak, He spends every moment in front of the screen His skin all pasty, with a tinge of green, Most folks dismiss him without a glance They don’t even give the guy a chance, On the computer, it’s a different story That is when he’s in his glory, He works in the room with the massive server Backing up our files with amazing fervour, We can call on him for computer grief

I am participating in the BarAThon with the blogging group, Blog a Rhythm for the weeks of June 14 to 30th. Today's prompt is "War and Pieces." I did a poem for today's challenge. War and Pieces Pieces of shrapnel, pieces of bone Pieces of metal, pieces of stone, Fly-covered corpses, their blood brownish-red Survivors wish that they, too, were dead. War hungry maniacs with evil goals Destroying lives and shattering souls, Power hungry men, they always want more Making life harder for the sick and the poor, Everywhere, despair increases Such is the life, with war and pieces

I am participating in the Barathon with the blogging group, Blog a Rhythm for the weeks of June 14 to 30th. Today's prompt is "Of Ice and Men." I got my inspiration for this fictional piece from my experience living in Gjoa Haven, Nunavut way up on King William Island in 1997-98. My husband, Brian got a teaching job teaching adults for eight very long months. I thought I would go crazy at times, but managed to get through it and even enjoy some moments along the way. I squinted through the dim greyish light onto the vast body of water, now an endless white frozen landscape of snow and ice. The sky and sea blended together like an empty white canvas, so bleak and desolate. The wind tore at my scarf threatening to pull it right off and I had to pull it tighter around my face. Even my Snowgoose parka was no match against the frigid Arctic winter wind. My glasses iced up with each breath I took and I couldn’t see anything so I had to take them off. Now I really c

I am particpating in the Barathon with the blogging group, Blog a Rhythm for the week of June 14 to 30th. Today's prompt is "Life of Pie." I got my inspiration from that old nursery rhyme "Sing a Song of Sixpence" and wrote a story based on the idea. “Hurry up! We must finish these pies for the king and queen’s dinner tonight,” the cook said and boxed Seth on the ears for staring out the window at the birds again. Seth rubbed his sore ears and nodded without a word. He rolled the pie crust out on the kitchen counter but it broke all apart in lumpy pieces. ‘Can’t you do anything right? Just my luck to be stuck with a simpleton like you for an apprentice,” the cook grumbled as he fixed the crust and made it smooth. “I promised my brother I’d train you but sometimes you try my patience.” Once again, Seth said nothing but that was nothing unusual. Seth never spoke.  Before he had become the cook’s apprentice, he had enjoyed long walks in t

I am particpating in the Barathon with the blogging group, Blog a Rhythm for the week of June 14 to 30th, a fortnight of blogging as they say in India. I almost forgot that a fortnight means two weeks. Such a fun British term. Today's prompt is "The Fault in our Stares." The theme for the week is "Seven" which I have no idea how to incorporate into today's post, other than this memory took place in the 19 SEVENties. There, I did it! PHEW! This is a memory I have of volunteering as a candy striper in a hospital when I was about thirteen.  A loud garbled cry comes from the small shrunken man in the hospital bed. He drools from the side of his sagging mouth, his red tinged eyes pleading, as he tries to get my attention. I have just started working as a candy striper and Monsieur Couvrette scares me with his pitiful cries and pathetic look. Most of the time, I try to avoid him as he seems so angry. He lies in the bed, sad, helpless, shrive