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“Hello, Super Market Management?  I am in your store and I am in the far end.  You know, near the chips?  I am a handicapped elderly woman (in a therapy boot) gratefully using one of your electric carts but the cart battery went dead.  Can you help me?

I cannot walk all the way back for another cart.  I need a new cart with active batteries and someone to help transfer all the groceries.  Yes, I am by the chips.  Thank you so much.  I love it that you offer this service.  It’s a very kind public gesture, but for some reason the cart batteries always go dead.

The electric carts at my grocery/big box store constantly run out of battery power.

And this usually occurs on the far side!

Getting stuck in the middle (or far end) of a gigantic store leaves a person (this person with the BigFoot) in a precariously helpless, embarrassing position, stranded in limbo with peripheral problems like being emotionally distraught.

I am STUCK! HELP!

  • The basket on this electric cart is full.
  • It will lurch forward while emitting a weak sickly beep.
  • It will never make it back to square one for a new cart.
  • That means I must WALK (Limp) back across the store (for what seems like a mile) to get another cart.
  • You may witness my staggering arrival at the cart area where there may or may not be a new cart available.
  • If I am lucky and find a cart it may have a dying battery, and there is no way to tell if it will make it back to Cart #1.
  • Hurrah!  It arrives at Cart #1 for a transfer of goods to Cart #2.
  • Finally… leave Cart #1 stranded and,
  • With aching foot and increased blood pressure, move on to finish shopping.

Results?

  • Embarrassment
  • Pain
  • Anger 
  • Frustration
  • Fear of getting stuck again.

The latter fear has taken such a hold that I can only shop on one side of the store at a time, i.e., bar soap is on the wrong side (the other side) of the store.

Soap therefore, must go on a different day’s shopping list entitled “Right Side” or “Left Side”.

I also finally devised a Diabolical Plan (feel free to try this yourself if you are either elderly, infirm, or both):

  1. Program the name of the store and it’s local phone number into your cell phone.
  2. Choose an electric cart without too much concern for dying batteries.
  3. Begin shopping and don’t worry about filling your basket. Fill it to the brim or higher! Remember, the point of this plan is to send a message to store management.
  4. Be alert and wait to get stuck ANYWHERE in the #$%2x##* blankety blank place (preferably far far from the stable of carts).
  5. Are you stuck yet? Well, if you are, then sweetly call the store from your cell phone.  Please, reserve the urge to rant!  
  6. Helplessly plead you are handicapped and need to be saved by a store employee who will have to fetch another cart.

Will pity prompt positive action?

I haven’t tried the Diabolical Plan yet.

Stay tuned.

 

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A-compromise-is-an-agreement-whereby-both-parties-get-what-neither-of-them-wanted (1)

Life is a compromise.

Like marriage.

Especially marriage.

I may be an expert on that.

  • What should we have for dinner when I love cheese and my husband hates it?

Compromise:  I do not cook with cheese, except for myself or if I am craving Mac n’ Cheese, we eat out.

  • How warm or cool shall we set the thermostat for our temperature comfort levels?

Compromise:  It’s always a little too warm for me in here, but a little too cool for him.

  • To avoid being deemed a “back seat driver”, how quiet should I be as a passenger in the car when I know he’s about to make a wrong turn?

Compromise:  I make little noises and white knuckle the hand grip.  I think he sees all that with his great peripheral vision.  If none of that works, I gasp out loud.

  •  What movie should we watch when he loves spy thrillers and I love romantic drama?

Compromise:  We have separate viewing rooms and meet between films.

Daily Prompt: Compromise

 

 

 

 

 

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father-daughter-quotes

I am back in time, a teenager again with the power to tune Dad out.

He was “old world” old fashioned you know.  Out of date.

He was a European immigrant who became a naturalized American citizen and he created a life and a family in the country of his dreams

And when I was a teenager I could fool him into thinking I was always listening to his words of wisdom.

I must have been listening

because all these years later

I am remembering his lectures.

“Don’t overstay your welcome Darling,” he would say when I was to spend part of a summer with my Aunt and Uncle and young cousins.

“After 3 days, company smells like dead fish,” he said.   (What he was really saying was he would miss me terribly.)

But now I know my Dad’s lectures originated from love.

  • “Sit up tall at the dinner table and eat as if you are royalty.” (If you act like a Queen you will be treated like one.)
  • “A suitor should wear a white shirt and tie and kiss your mother’s hand.” (You will be happiest with a man who respects women.)
  • “Do not neglect your education.  Learn a skill like typing – something you can fall back on  to earn a living.” (Don’t count on anyone but yourself to take care of you.)
  • “Take time with your grooming.  Your hair is your crowning glory and every strand should be in place.” (If you care, everyone else will care too.)
  • “Always be early for every appointment.”  (If you are prompt, people will respect you.)
  • “Do not borrow.  Pay everything with cash.”  (Remain self sufficient so you will never be without.)
  • Always look for the best and buy quality. (Well made things last longer and are better investments.)
  • “Keep a clean house.  You should be able to eat an egg from the floor.” (Cleanliness is vital for good health.)

There are more words of wisdom of course, and I hope to remember and record them all.

For as old fashioned and out of date as Dad was,  the great part is his lectures always began and ended with love.

Daily Prompt: Lecture

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file_23012_beagleYesterday was an icey cold day in this part of Virginia and I was napping.  A mix of rain and sleet, plus wind and a light coating of snow made sleeping midday pretty cozy.

And I was dreaming.

I dreamed about a little Beagle dog who was crying to enter my house.

She was out in all that frigid weather.

And she was walking right by my window, looking in.

I awoke with a gasp!

And in spite of anticipated pain in my BigFoot from radical fast movements, I quickly got to my feet and actually rushed to the nearest window.

No Beagle.

Was it real, that dream?  Was there really a little dog out there begging for a permit to enter?

I was so sure it was real,  I actually staggered from window to window peering out and hoping.

But, No Beagle.

Last night I saw once again my Dream Beagle, and this time I let the poor pup in.

I have wanted to adopt a dog for so long now that the dream became an entirely plausible reality.

They say, “Dreams are wish fulfilments.”

I am still checking all around the house for my Dream Beagle.

But a Mutt would be fine too.

Daily Post WordPress Prompt –  

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/permit/

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “All About Me.”

Explain why you chose your blog’s title and what it means to you.

There was another blog first.  It was a memoir for family and close friends and became the beginning of my growing love for the blogging process.  Technicolor Daydreams has now been converted to a self published hard copy book created as a gift for the special people in my life.

I thought I was through blogging, but there was more to come.

Since the old self seemed to be adequately recorded in that first blog, I began to stretch and strike different poses (much like clicking around for the perfect selfie).

And a new blog was born!

Shenandoah Sunrise 1

Virginia Views is the second-story canvas now used to portray a city girl’s transference to country living.  High heels on a gravel driveway, a horse in the pool, and finding puff balls  and paw paws  in the wild, are the types of stories that still make me chuckle and I hope will bring smiles to anyone interested in the vagaries of country living.

Being mostly mixed up, I originally planned this new blog enterprise to be named Country Living for Beginners.  But I misread the form and a great title became the URL address instead – https://countryliving4beginners.wordpress.com .

VIRGINIA VIEWS turned out to be the all encompassing title of the new blog and I still love it.

My friend Cindy of Photos from the Loony Bin, helped with that title, and the “views” part allows me to wander from poetry to photography to worded essays and stories, however the mood shall strike.

Of course there are always lurking recollections of  hilarious adjustments to the surprises of living “out in the county” but like an emerging butterfly, Virginia Views morphed into an eclectic introspective interpretation of life in general.

The birth and growth of a blog is a terrifically exciting process with grandiose dreams of endless material to share.

Virginia Views now features over 600 posts and even when I think there is no more to say and “nothing new under the sun”, a new story emerges. Just telling you about it is the inspiration to begin again.

Uh oh!  Watch out WordPress!  There may be more to come.

~ Dor

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On the Way Again Weekly Photo Challenge

Old New Truck

Did this old truck look so bright

when Grandpa bought it new?

If only gears could spin her tales

of journeys long and true.

Did she make a great grand-stand

in years gone long ago,

sold and sold from hand to hand

for work and not for show?

And where’s she off to next I ask?

Another place to make folks smile,

a beautiful relic of the past

that keeps on truckin’ mile to mile.

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Daily Prompt: Connect the Dots

Open your nearest book to page 82.  Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.

“It wasn’t long before another idea came to mind: maybe I could sell some at the Women’s Institute meetings where housewives baked cakes, made jams, pastries, pickles and many other food items to sell.” 

I am not good at much.  I mean I’m not particularly talented.  So, when I was invited to join the Women’s Institute I was shocked.  Why me?  Were they desperate or what?

You see, the Women’s Institute is a club where the women actually compete by baking cakes, making jams, pastries, pickles and lots of other food items with an eye to selling them. 

I don’t enjoy competition.  Some garden clubs are like that too.  They compete to see who has the best flower arrangements.  I would wind up with one flower in a stem vase and that would leave me shaking in the composition phase.  That is why I have never joined a garden club.

What to do?  Should I accept the invitation to join the Women’s Institute?  It wasn’t long before another idea came to mind: maybe I could make some of my coconut macaroons.  They usually come out o.k. and even though my husband hates them I think they have a certain character.

So I accepted and now any time the ladies have a “cook-in” competition, I make my Macaroons.  They have nicknamed me “The Macaroon Lady.”

Like I say,” I’m not good at much,” but with twenty years of practice, the macaroons have made me famous!

Note:  The third sentence on Page 82 of my nearest book was from  Rita Roberts, my blogger friend’s published book,

 Toffee Apples & Togas, available on Amazon.com.   It makes for delightful reading.

Note #2:  I am not really famous, but the macaroons are pretty good.

 

 

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