AND THE BEAT GOES ON

 

It is exactly Frinday and time for Friday Fictioneers.  We gather each week to tell our stories of approximately 100 words inspired by a photo prompt.  We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.  Here’s my 100 words this week.  My story is inspired also by being lost most of my life.  I have no sense of direction.  Sometimes it makes for good stories.  Thank goodness for Google map.

rainy-night

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The rain came in torrents, drumming down on the roof.  She could hardly think.  She covered her ears with her hands, lowering her head on the steering wheel.  Thank God she was alone!  There was no witness to her inepitude.

She sat.  There’s no need to rush.  There’s no place to go.  She was lost!  Worse, she couldn’t figured out which button/lever to turn on the wipers.  There was no manual.  She checked.  She couldn’t find the radio either.

She should have checked it all out before she left the rental place.  Should have, could have.  The beat goes on.

JAMMING IT

IMG_3426There’s something so soothing and meditative about squishing grapes that I never thought possible! That’s the surprise I discovered when I sat down with my two pounds of Concord grapes. Two pounds is not alot but too much to eat.  Since we made the effort to grow them, it’s hard to waste them. I am not fond of making jelly.  It seems like SO much work.  My head gets boggled and quirky just thinking about it. Jamming is no breeze either, but seems like the less evil of the two.

I resigned myself to a bunch of work.  But I tried to make it as easy and pleasant as possible.  I took the lot into my sun room and sat down with them.  There’s no easy way of skinning them except squishing them one by one.  I did not rush.  I tried to watch/listen to video on YouTube but found it not enjoyable.  I gave that up for just sitting in the sunlight, squishing one purple grape after another, watching them plop into the pot on my lap.  In a little while I was overcome with peace and contentment.  My body said, Boy, I feel good! WOWZIE!

It took a couple of hours to jam two pounds of grapes from squishing to jarring.  The result was two little jars of purple jam.  No boiling bath was necessary.  They will be eaten soon enough or into the freezer they go.  The PROCESS was slow and enjoyable but not difficult.  The only difficult part was STARTING.

The recipe I followed, more or less:

4 lbs Concord, wild or other seeded purple grapes

1/2 cup water

1 cup raw sugar (organic turbinado)

pinch sea salt

Rinse grapes, stem them, then rinse again (especially if yours are wild or homegrown and covered in sandy Downeast soil, spider webs and slugs like mine).  Peel grapes by pinching each one (at the end opposite to the stem end is easiest) and allowing the grape innards to plop out into a medium (4-quart) stockpot or Dutch oven (this is far easier than it sounds; 3 lbs of grapes took me a leisurely 15 minutes to peel). Keep the grape skins in a separate bowl.

Bring the grape innards and any juice to a boil over medium-high heat; reduce heat and simmer until grapes begin to disintegrate, releasing seeds, about 10 minutes. Pour into the bowl of a food mill. Rinse the stockpot, add grape skins and 1/2 cup water, and bring water to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer grape skins, partially covered, until soft and breaking down, about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, pass grape innards through the food mill; discard grape seeds.  Add grape pulp, sugar and salt to the grape skins. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then continue to cook at a brisk boil (lowering heat if jam begins to stick) until the gel stage (mine never reached 220 degrees F; I stopped it at 216 degrees when it formed a wrinkly set on a frozen plate).

Ladle hot jam into hot, sterilized jars to 1/4-inch headspace. Pass a wooden utensil along the sides of the jars to remove any bubbles, wipe rims, affix lids and process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

LONG AND WINDY ROAD

IMG_3404I’m forever trudging down this long lonely windy road. There’s no end to it though I do see a light at the end.  I might as well put my head down and keep going.  I’ve come this far.  I should buckle up, bear down or whatever and see it to the end.  Never give up!  Never say uncle or squirrel!  I have to keep my focus, my eye on the road.  I’m so close and yet so far.

IMG_3398The road is long and oh, so dark and lonely. Won’t you lend me a hand?  Can I sit at your table and rest for just awhile?  I’m cold and my feet and soul are weary with this journey. No need for talk.  No need for false comfort. Rest and honesty are all I need.

 

LIKE A CAROUSEL

It is Thursday evening, not quite Friday but it is good enough to tell tales of 100 words on Friday Fictioneers. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.  Here’s my 100 words prompted by this week’s photo.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Her head was spinning like a carousel out of control.  Her heart pounded.  Lub dub!  Lub dub!  She crossed her arms across her chest as if to hold the sound in.  She bent over, taking a deep breath.

Her head cleared.  She sighed in relief.  She could think again.  She was tired of being down trodden, being at everyone’s beck and call, pleasing them, cheering them on. There was no time for herself.  There was no her.

“I’m tired of it.  Damn it all to hell!”  She muttered.  “I’ll have no more of it.  I know what I will do.”

STAYING ALIVE

I’ve been away too long, lost among overgrown untravelled paths this last while with no fiction in my mind nor fingertips.  But I’ve found my way back to this favourite spot – Friday Fictioneers.  It’s where storytellers gather to tell their tales of 100 words or so according to a photo prompt.  We are hosted by our gracious host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.  Here is my tale of 99 words.

traffic lights

The glare of headlights nearly blinded her.  She clung onto the steering wheel with all her might, willing the car to stay the course.  Horns honked and blared.  She willed herself not to scream.  Everything was coming at her every which way.  What kind of nightmare was she in?  Was she sleeping or awake?

She remembers going down this road so many times.  Oh, how she wishes she could forget. Memory lane is not what it is cracked up to be.  Where’s the champagne and balloons? Where’s the laughter?  Where’s John Travalta singing Staying Alive?  Where’s……Oh my  God, Nooo!

AFTER THE PARTY

partyAfter the party is over, after all the drinks are gone, after all the speeches have been spoken, after everyone has gone home… We can relax and let our smiles fall. We can take our shoes off and drop our clothes on the floor.  We can sigh, breathe and let our shoulders drop. We can wash the weariness off our faces, smile again, remembering the moments, faces, toasts and stories, feeling grateful that we have friends and family to invite and share.

After the party is over, after we can take no more, after we have come home, we can let our faces fall.  We undress, hang up our clothes and stumble to the bathroom.  Under the warm shower, we breathe and sigh with relief and contentment.  We smile at the memories, stories and happy faces, feeling grateful to be invited.

mountainjpgAfter the journey is over and the dog collected, after the bags are unloaded, after a cup of tea and a glass of wine, after a meal cooked and ate, after a good night’s sleep…..After the bags are unpacked, the clothes laundered and hung, I am able to sit here, feet up, tap, tapping on the keyboard, feeling grateful for the journey, the hills and valleys, the laughter, the tears and the people who travelled with me.

READY, SET, GO

IMG_3116It’s another day.  I still have a million and one things to do.  For now, let me rest in this space if I can, but difficult neighbours seem to be my cross to bear – especially the obsessive compulsive type.  Right now I can hear the constant whine of her leaf blower. It’s like hearing fingernails scratching on a blackboard over and over.  I don’t mean to be unkind but I wish she would disappear. It’s my evil twin speaking.

It stops and starts again, this never ending stream of irritation.  I will breathe and sip my cuppa and tap away on my keyboard.  There!  It has stopped.  Praise the Lord!  I close my eyes, unfurl my eyebrows and let my shoulders drop.  I am tired but it is a good day. The car is back from the shop with a set of brand new Michlin tires.  Have tread, will travel far.  No worries.  I am ready, set and can almost go.  It feels heady not to procrastinate.

IMG_3120Now if I can get to my tomatoes.  There’s no end to them.  Seems like I pick bushels of tomatoes and sunberries every day.  I’m complaining a little now.  Come winter I will be happy to have tomatoes for soups and spaghetti sauce.  And those little berries will be delicious in muffins.  Suffer now.  Enjoy later.  Oh, that whine has started again. It’s like being at the dentist’s.

CHANGES – Endings and Beginnings

IMG_3103The dishes are done and laundry hung. The Roomba is operating on its own in the living room. There’s still a million things to be done but isn’t there always?  The tomatoes can wait. A few more hours on the vine will sweeten them more. That goes for the grapes also. Everything can wait.

It’s time for me to put up my feet and have my tea. What is it with us girls?  We just can’t do without our cuppa. Life is so much better and easier with this pause in the day. I like to sit here in my favourite spot and savour the experience. Thoughts, pictures and words parade through my mind.

IMG_3088It is September, end of summer and the beginning of another season, school and work for some. For us it is a return to the city from the lake. Endings, beginnings and changes are ever with us. But for all that, the more things change, the more they remain the same.

It is easy to slip back into the same old ruts. The grooves are deep and the mud is sticky. It is only with grit and determination that I don’t fall over the slippery slopes again. Past experiences are painful but I do learn from them.

My ugly sister, my evil twin showed herself again, whispering her thoughts and feelings. I believed her at first but then I had to ask. Is that true?  She was silent. I forgave her lies and loved her anyways. I loved her that was part of me.

We are stronger knowing we are part of each other. Even though with all the things that remain the same, we do not have to be the same. We can do different.

STEPPING OUT IN THE DARK – AugustMoon finale

IMG_3070It is the last day of August and last day for AugustMoon 2015.  It has been a wonderful few weeks of writing.  These weeks of reflection have given me rest and pause to see with more clarity into the world and life as it is.  I am surrounded by sunlight streaming through the woods as I sit here tap, tapping on my keyboard.  I am happy and at ease.

AugustMoon Day 16 photo prompt

AugustMoon Day 16 photo prompt

We had a super moon last night coming home from our friends’ house in the woods.  In light of the full moon, our path was lit.  It was easy to take a step without stumbling over roots and such.  The trick in life is taking a step forward in the dark, not knowing what lies ahead. 

But if you can suck it in and take that bold first step, it gets easier.  Your eyes get accustomed to the dark.  You lose some of the fear.  You can relax a little.  Your shoulders come down and you can breathe.  You can think.  You might find that there is nothing to be afraid of.  There are no boogey men or demons behind every tree.  It’s only your shadow.  I have learned to take that bold first step.  It was terrifying and exhilarating like riding the roller coaster at the fair.  It is very worth the ride. 

FIRE WITHIN – AugustMoon Day 12

fireWhen I hear the words ‘lit up from within’ what immediately comes to mind is a fire eater.  I wonder if that is where the term ‘fire in the belly’ comes from.  You would certainly be lit up.  And if you walk on fire, you’ll be dancing as well.

I am not an exuberant type of a gal.  I am not comfortable displaying joy, elation – my fireworks.  Neither am I a good dancer, a fire walker or eater.  But what lights me from the inside out are words and pictures. Words paint pictures and pictures talk to me in words.  I love your pictures and words as well as my own.  Together they allow us to know each other a little better.  They can speak across the room, the street, towns….oceans.

Even though I am a reserved person, the magic of words and pictures can ignite a fire within, bring a grin to my face.  I might even kick up my heels in delight.  One can never tell.

~~~~~~~~~

IMG_3064 (1)Writing from the woods on this second last day of August, I am lit up within, finding my words and pictures.  Sending thanks to the Universe and my readers.  Gratitude to Alana Lawson of wolfandword.net for this writing forum of August Moon 2015.