5 Sentence Fiction Armour

5 Sentence Ficiton Armour

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction. (http://lilliemcferrin.blogspot.co.uk/)

Armour

For once, Max was extremely grateful for her choice in clothing today as she lay on the soft blanket of grass, looking up through the overhanging branches as the sunlight peeked through; a reminder of how wonderfully exhilarating summer days can be.

She lay still as the blurred branches swayed gently to and frow revealing glimpses of a clear blue sky that filled Max with a surprising but much needed tranquillity.  

She was hot now; uncomfortably so as she felt her whole body ache which was a good sign despite the stillness and odd angle her legs appeared to be.

Voices were getting nearer and before she knew it, strange heads towered over her, blocking out the daylight, all talking at once; but this was a relief as she forced a small smile beneath the misted and now claustrophobic visor, even though one of these unknown faces was the cause of her predicament.   

Yes, Max was thankful that on this hot summer’s day, she decided to kit herself out in her leathers; her uniform, her armour for the road and today it had saved her skin as she afforded a quick glance at her beloved bike; a mangled mess under the very tree she had lay that had ended her ride so abruptly, before the doors of the ambulance closed.  

The Versatile Blogger Award

Woo hoo! After 8 weeks of blogging (seems a lot longer because it is such fun and sooooo much to write/talk about) I have been nominated with this gorgeous award or as Ugly Betty would call it 'A Bloggy' . It comes from someone I came across on  Love All Blogs and her fabulous  Tattooed Easter Eggs. It is of course The fabulous mom's Guide.

I love visiting and reading this blog because it very calming with fabulous ideas on crafts as well as how to a calmer person yourself! I need that in my life!!!! Especially when  my cat is not around to get soothing (to me) strokes!

Anyway, back to the award. It does come with rules and these rules are as followers;

1. Thank the blogger who has awarded you and link back to them.
2. Share seven things about yourself.
3. Pass the award along to 5 other newly discovered blogs.

Right. . . . ok, number 1 has been done; to The Fabulous Mom's Guide another big thank you for taking time out to visit and read and comments back about my blog. It is the comments that spur a writer on, that they are indeed writing something worthwhile. It is much appreciated. And thank you again for the nomination. And everyone else . . go visit and read and if you like, which you will, comment.

Seven things. . . gulp . . this is quite tricky . . ok here goes . .  and if you already knew this about me, then I'll have to think of more things ;-)

1.  I love a man in uniform; lucky Hubby works in one.
2.  I was a Police Officer in the Met despite being on the short side.
3.  I can eat any type of chocolate at any time of the day; I have been know to eat chocolate for breakfast.However, Philly Chocolate is yuk as is Marmite chocolate!  
4.  I have written a  book and I'm hoping someone thinks it's good enough for the book shelves.
5.  I have a BA (Hons) in Professional Studies in Learning and Development (a work based degree for teaching assistants).
6.  When on holiday in Thailand in the 90's, my friend and I ditched the package tour and 'disappeared' for 4 days to one of the islands. When we got back, everyone was so pleased to see us as they thought the worst. There was a poster up asking if anyone had seen us. .  oops.
7.  I love my Hubby, my son, my cat, my job, my friends, life and I love writing. I actually call myself a writer. . ooh er . . . get me!   

So there's seven rather simple facts about me that aren't Earth shattering or life changing or remotely exciting and it was the hardest part of this blog/award. Who said awards come easily? x

Now for five newly discovered blogs that are just as deserving, if not more so, than mine. And this is tricky too because there are so many I have recently discovered so I have chosen by the amount of visits/time spent on these blogs with these fab peeps.

1.  Lillie McFerrin Writes
2. The 1970's diet
3. @themummyblogger
4. @clairemsb
5. @ninecentgirl

And I couldn't resist a couple more who have helped and inspired me with their tweets and comments.

   6.   @JessSturman  Thank you for all your very kind tweets and support and making it feel worthwhile on the long and now not so lonely road of a 'wanna be writer'; sorry 'writer'. xxx
   7.   @sthurley49    And thank you for your blogging over the past year which has made me sit up and ask; can I do that? And yes I can! So thank you for introducing me into this mad, mad, mad but gorgeous world of blogging! I love it.

So here is my list but it is by no means definitive. If you already have the award, I apologise, if not, it's my pleasure in nominating you. Now I need to get back organising my blog into writing and blogging . . . EEEKK because every time I meddle with it, something goes horribly wrong!

Happy writing/blogging peeps.

Love me. xxx

How can you eat these?????

Some cupcakes made by me; pinched from an idea found on Pinterest. Cute is not the word:

They were quite easy to make and very fun to do. The hardest part was eating them! They were just too darn cute!!! But it's not like I gave them names or anything otherwise that would have been impossible. Never name your food!
Anyway, they had a trip to a friend's house where the first sheep was selected for slaughter, sorry to be eaten. And then the rest followed, as sheep do . . and they were yummy!
I guess if you're going to make cute food, be prepared to eat it!

I'm going to make some more for Cooking Club and the school library opening; we're thinking of these as the sheep from Babe by Dick King Smith. A cute little piggy in the middle for Babe will be making an appearance too. Can't wait! But willl they be too cute to eat?

Five Sentence Ficiton- Tears

This one was tricky. Tears can be of joy, which are the best kind where your face is streaming and you have no idea in the end why as you realise you've peed your pants with so much laughter! Or tears can be of extreme sadness which is so deep and raw that in the end, you cry silent, dry tears because there's nothing left. I opted for the latter and after writing it, I feel extremely sad but such is the power of words.  

Love me. xxxx

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction. (http://lilliemcferrin.blogspot.co.uk/)

This week: Tears

Sally was over the moon as the tickets had arrived to see One Direction and she couldn’t wait to tell her best friend, Jess, as they should start planning what to wear immediately; the concert was three weeks away but there was no time to lose . . .   

‘I always seem to be knocking on peoples doors with bad news’ muttered Michael as he placed his cap firmly on his head, opened the garden gate and walked slowly up the well kept garden path; a kid’s bike sat neatly up against the wall.

This was going to be tough as childrens’ laughter rang through from the back garden, soon to turn to tears as an emptiness and sadness would consume them as soon as Michael set things in motion with one touch of the door bell.  

Never a good thing knocking on someone’s door; never a well done for anything; ‘driving so carefully so here’s an award’ would be nice or a ‘Yay, get this, we’ve found your stolen car and it’s not burnt out’ or ‘thanks to your neighbourhood watch scheme, we caught that burglar’ and then people might be happy to see a police officer on their door step. . .

Michael’s fingers reached slowly to the door bell as he took a deep breath, knowing his words would shatter their lives forever and all because a driver decided to drive whilst drunk, mounting the pavement and wiping out a teenager as she walked, clutching two concert tickets; her whole life ahead of her, gone in moments and it fell to Michael to break the news; the worst part of his ‘job’ by far but ever the professional . .  

What a Load of Pants

It’s funny where the inspiration for your next blog comes from and when you’re least expecting it.  An afternoon with a friend catching up on some gossip has provided me with my next topic and those of you who are eating or of a nervous disposition may want to stop here. . . .

So the brave few have stayed, well I warned you. And you may also be thankful for the colder weather too, as you take your blustery walk along a beach this weekend. . .

I don’t know how or why but we ended up on the subject of a nudist beach or the fact that on an innocent walk, we have both stumbled across one or two surprises; no warning, no signs just some unformentionables dangling in the full light of day, catching some rays and no doubt some stares of ‘is that man really naked?’  

Now I’m not a prude; far from it. But I don’t want to see ‘the last turkey in the shop’ on display on a public beach where it shouldn’t be; that’s what nudist beaches are for and there are plenty of them apparently.

I didn’t know where to look but was uncomfortably drawn to this small, naked, bronzed all over man who was more than comfortable in his own skin, which seemed three sizes too big for him, as he wanted to share everything with the world for reasons I do not understand. I protested loudly to Hubby that this man had ruined my pleasant Sunday afternoon walk along the beach and more importantly was putting me off my meat and two veg roast dinner when I got home and probably for the rest of my life!

My Hubby didn’t know what all the fuss was about, making comments like ‘if he was younger, fitter and had a 6 pack, you’d be drooling’. Well there’s no denying that really. I’m partial to the specimens of Messrs Pitt and Beckham. And love the pics of Becks advertising pants. But he’s wearing them and to be honest I’m rather pleased about that as it does leave some imagination for you to daydream about and think Posh is the luckiest woman to walk the earth- you’d think she’d be grinning from ear to ear with what’s hidden in those pants - and when you’re reading your Heat magazine with your Danish, you don’t even want Becks’ tackle winking at you unless you have a friend whose special skill is the Heimlich Manoeuvre.

My friend had the same issue when out walking along a different beach and came across a man with everything on show. It was enough to put her off her conversation and that’s saying something and despite wanting to reach the end of their walk, they promptly turned back round again. All a fluster, agitated and confused as to why there was a naked man on the beach with no warning, no signs and no need for it, my friend has yet to return to that stretch of beach. But it was interesting that we felt the same way as I was being made to feel guilty by Hubby at my ‘blinkered ageist, sexist attitude’ as he kept going on that if it was a woman I wouldn’t be bothered. Well as my friend and I discussed this issue, we both agreed that yes, we would be rather bothered if it was a woman on a public stretch of beach because we all know that after a certain time in your life- having sprogs- your boobs are swinging happily down by your knees without the magic scaffolding of the bra.  And no one wants to see that unless of course you’re in Spain, sunning yourself where you’re too busy worrying about white bits, red bits, missed waxed bits and not being mistaken as an extra in Free Willy (no pun intended) to even bother with all the nakedness around you. 

So if you do feel like a bit of Free Willy, the movie is ok and comes in a sequel and watching that will prevent me from choking on my 99 the next time I go for a walk along the beach.



Cooking up a Storm

The start of the Easter Holidays is always met with jubilation at the thought of 2 weeks off work (or skiving as Hubby say’s but I can’t help working in a school) and the disappearance of that ‘Sunday night feeling’ because Monday is a lay in and no rushing around in trying to get out of the house on time. Making arrangements with friends is high on the list as well as late nights, days out and relaxing. Not on the list is cooking dinner which Hubby seems to think is a priority due to having time off work. And it’s not just my hubby.  

Whilst spending some time on Facebook recently because let’s face it, not working allows time to be wasted, sorry spent on here, I saw a post from my friend’s hubby stating that he ‘expected’ a five course dinner when he got home from a hard days graft.  Now I know he was joking about the 5 courses but the expectation was there for the dinner just as my Hubby expects a meal when he gets home. Like I don’t have anything else to do. And the conversation pretty much was the same on Facebook with a few of us of the same mind; moaning at the expectation not only because we’re extremely busy people but because we can’t cook!

And our hubbies know this but still insist on wanting us to cook because it is our duty, our job and we have nothing better to do. Last week, I attempted a curry (a jar of sauce) and could hear Hubby’s voice telling me to slow cook the pork so it’s nice and tender. So I did. But after 20 minutes, I could smell burning. The ‘sauce’ was no more and in its place was a congealed, burnt mass. I made the mistake of stirring it which scraped up the charcoaled bits from the bottom of the pan. But the worst of it was when I actually served it up as ‘dinner’ of which Hubby was not impressed; far from it, even though I said it’s ‘barbequed’. He started saying that if he had served me up something like that, I would have moaned like buggery and not eaten it. Well yes that is true but then my Hubby claims to be able to cook and can cook so I would be very upset to get burnt offerings. However, I have never claimed to be able to cook. Bake; yes, cook; no.

But even with this in mind, I am still expected to cook. Darn! My Hubby has seen through my evil plan of producing crap and hoping never to be asked again to cook. I can’t get out of it that easily it seems. Neither can my friends although one was lucky enough for her hubby to actually prepare meals a few days in advance for her. Now there is a lucky lady with a hubby who listens to the plaintive cries of ‘I can’t cook’ and ‘I hate cooking.’

To be honest, I haven’t actually had to cook yet as Hubby has been off work but that will change tomorrow when he’s back and I have to think ahead, plan and create as nothing less will do. I’m, not allowed to cook frozen foods as I nuke them to death. I’m also not allowed to cook mince as that’s all I can cook apparently and he’s fed up with it, chicken because we had that tonight and pork because I can’t and I burn it. Pasta is out because he’s fed up with that too. Doesn’t leave much does it? And this is why cooking is hard! It’s also hard because I have to cook something that will still resemble a meal the next day as Hubby will take it to work. So you can see the huge challenge ahead of me. Made even more challenging by the fact that I will be visiting a friend tomorrow and once we get together, we shall have hours of fun gossiping, Facebooking, munching and generally putting the world to rights . . . and cooking? Well by tomorrow evening, we’ll both be in the dog house which makes a huge change from your dinner’s in the dog.

Love me; The Undomesticated Devil for a reason.

PS: Any suggestions of what to cook please post here and Hubby may have a chance of a dinner.

PPS: I guess I should dedicate a blog to my poor long suffering Hubby but best it’s not this one. . .

PPPS: This blog is dedicated to Jan Fuller and Lizzie Martin.  I know where you’re coming from and feel your pain when in the kitchen.

xxx

Scorching- The First lick of Summer

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction. (http://lilliemcferrin.blogspot.co.uk/)

Scorching- The first Lick of Summer
The group of children waited impatiently for it to come, sitting on the hard, hot, dusty pavement; their money burning a hole in their pockets as the unforgiving, blazing sun beat down from a cloudless sky, burning their fair unprotected skin, as this was the first day of many without T shirts.   

There was not an ounce of shade and not enough energy to play ‘It’; even walking to the local shop to spend the money on fizzy drinks or ice cream was an effort as the air was still, just like the children sitting on the pavement- waiting, watching, hoping . .  

But there was excitement in the air as one scruffy boy looked at his watch, the big hand slowly but surely reaching the 12 as the little hand struck the 4 and there it was, that precious sound that most grownups found more than annoying.

The road seemed long and endless but sure enough the noise came closer and closer as the children all stood at once, reaching into their pockets and pulling out hot, sweaty coins so precious to them in this extraordinary heat wave.

The newspapers were full of doom and gloom of water shortages with the impending summer drought with screaming headlines of crops failing, gardens wilting and paddling pools standing empty, but the sound of the ice cream van made the unbearable heat worthwhile as the children all clamoured eagerly around the van, wanting that first lick of their Fab ice lolly; this was heaven and as the sweat trickled down their forehead’s, they all smiled happily at that first lick of summer.