Butterflies. {short story}

Thursday 28th August 2014.

From an original idea from a good friend and exceptional blogger and writer herself.  Pop over and say hello. Carol B Sessums at adjustingyourfocus. – http://adjustingyourfocus.wordpress.com/

The Butterflies.

Flight-of-the-Butterflies-H

Words 1106.

It always started off with her stepping outdoors, walking a few steps into her garden. A large orange and black butterfly would flutter around her head, then land on her shoulder. She would walk a few more steps then a blue one would flutter in front of her face and then settle on her other shoulder. She never attempted to wave them away, she always welcomed them. Even though she was walking she never moved any further away from her back door.                                        

The next time the same would happen but now four butterflies would appear and settle on her shoulder. Each time she would then wake up, sweating all over, her forehead soaking her pillow, and her bed wear had to be changed. She could not understand why this happened because the dream was a pleasant one, no threat or horrid visions. The sunny day and butterflies gave her a sense of security and serenity, a feeling of love. On this summers day these gorgeous creatures were always visible in her garden. This day she noticed something that was different to her dream, and confused her a little.

She did not dream this dream for a while, the nights passed and nothing to be remembered. She even researched what dreams mean, but for this particular dream she was unsuccessful in finding any answers. As the nights passed and no more dreams she eventually forgot about them. But the night of the eve of her mothers birthday, she was planning to go and place some flowers on her grave, she did this every month. She was very close to her mother and tears would flow every time she thought of her, finding it hard to let go or move on. Laying in bed thinking of her day tomorrow, many pictures drifting in and out of her mind until she eventually drifted off to sleep.  The sleep was restless, fidgeting and snoring causing her to keep waking, unfinished dreams causing minor distress and hitting a point for her to waken with a start. Again sweating all over and feeling very hot, she could see the full moon in the sky casting its bright golden glow upon the earth. She lay looking out her window staring at the moon, imagining people living on it. She became fixated on it, hypnotised, being in a trance waiting for someone to click their finger to bring her back to the living world. But of course it never happened.

Butterflies fluttered about her face, first two orange and black ones then two pale blue. She did not flinch or try to brush them away, she did not mind them  near her face. Two more appeared followed by two more, the appearance of more until there were hundreds maybe thousands. All fluttering about her face and body, circling her in a whirlwind of colour. She noticed she was standing next to an apple tree, which appeared to be in her garden. Everything else was the same, she could see the chicken run, the gooseberry bushes but there was no apple tree. Yet here one was, bearing fruit, nice perfectly formed red apples. She turned around and saw that her house was not to be seen, she was only a few feet from her back door, but now the house was gone.  The butterflies eased away from circling her, forming a cloud of colour in front of her. Fluttering, hundreds corkscrewing, a mass of delicate wings tightening, no particular shape, just a cloud of colour, continuing  to spread out and up and down until they resembled a shape of a human being. All fluttering now in a constant shape for a short while, as she watched a figure taking shape, all the butterflies melting, shaping slowly until a person, another woman was seen standing only a few feet away. She took shape, her face becoming recognisable, the vision of the woman in front of her, not believing her eyes. “Mother, it can’t be, is it really you?” she whispered. Then the woman spoke.

“Hello luv, don’t be afraid, it is really me your mother. I have only a few moments.” She was about to rush to her mother and throw her a hug, but her mother noticed this and abruptly spoke firmly with a raised voice, “No luv, don’t try to touch me, I will just vanish and you will be hurt and might even join me in the world of the dead.” She stepped back a little.

“I want you know, I left you in a hurry, beyond my control I did not want to, I had no choice in the matter. But I want you know that I love very much  and hope that me being here now will relieve any guilt you may have. I have heard your words and felt your tears and because of this I have been allowed to come to you and tell you not worry, none was your fault. Most of all my luv’ I will always be by your side, looking over you. You may not see me but I assure you I will be there for you.” Her mother then held out her hand, her image flickering a little, “Don’t touch me, just hold out your hand I have something for you. They were interred with me and I have no use for them so you just as well have them back and make use of them.” She then dropped some jewels into her daughters hand. A wedding ring and an engagement ring and a bracelet, not just any bracelet it was a charm bracelet. All the charms were collected over the years of her life and the holidays she had been. All with some history. “Thank you mum, but it was not necessary.”

“They are of no use to me, you just as well have them and do with them as you wish.” Mother and daughter stood looking at each other, the daughter shedding tears mother would have if she could. The silence was broken by her mother, “Sorry luv’ but it is time for me to go, remember I am here with you always. I am being called, remember I always love you.” they both held out their hands, not touching but symbolising their embrace. As quickly as she said goodbye her mother burst into a mass of coloured butterflies, blue and orange and white all fluttering madly eventually dispersing, all but two, the two on her shoulder, the orange and black on one and blue on the other.

She looked at both butterflies in turn and whispered “Thank you mum, luv you to.” the two butterflies then fluttered away. She could now see her house and where her mother had stood the apple tree now stands full of perfect fruit.

Gaa/C© August 2014

Enjoy Thank you.

Restawyle

 

WPC -Texture.

Friday 8th August 2014

Texture

Guest photographer Natalia Maks invites you to find unexpected textures in the world around you.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/texture/

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Enjoy and Thank you.

Gerry A/C ©

Restawyle

Changes…To Write? Too late..

Friday 14th March 2014

Another exclusive unearthed from the Daily Gerald reporter…Gaa/C 2014©

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Changes/To write?….  The following report is purely a report.

Changes,, new developments and new mentality, Change it from yesterday to today, and tomorrow. What exactly constitutes to change. Changing ones underwear, changing ones clothes. Changing ones hairstyle or colour. The act of changing ones mind, yes I suppose these can all be accounted for as change.

Change – replace with another.  As I have just had done to me.

Change – attitudes, these are and can be considered drastic, and hurting, or just bad,  depending on what it is that has changed. Or how the person or persons changed.  eg: when something is considered good and normal between, say, two people. Whether it be siblings, parents or even lovers. This happens when one of them decides to change their thoughts and attitude towards and an on going situation. Especially when the other is thinking that it need not have changed as such.

I have just become one of the many, especially Facebooker’s to use a quote of the day or just quotes. What the hell is all this about? Proving that one can research and find all these quotes on Google or any other search option. Purely their choice I know, but it seems to be so rife  that it becomes boring. [Like me I suppose]. Easy it is to put a quote on a post or timeline, easier than writing our own words of wisdom, is it? oh! and it makes us all look good.  How many of us actually believe or follow the actions of these words that some person has thought up and written for us to make ourselves look good. Sad when people result to this. But I have ‘Changed’ and also become sad, because, hey I am using a couple myself. I say words of wisdom, well are they?  Do I actually heed or take in the words on these quotes, do you, it makes me wonder. 

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Lets take the first line – ‘no one falls in love by choice,  it is by chance’ [maybe so, but we do have a choice. Do we not have control of our own emotions and mind.]

Second line – no one stays in love by choice, it is by work. [to me this is pathetic, love is natural and needs no work. relationships yes maybe]

Third line – no one falls out of love by chance. it is by choice. [ I will be nasty and say what a load of crap. I have never experienced falling out of love by choice.] It is usually forced on one by the opposite party.

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How ever you might well disagree, but that is your choice and is respected. But what I have encountered partly for my myself but seen from the outside looking in, is the absolute rubbish people say just to verify their reasoning. You have changed, is a common one. Even exaggerate the situation. I can be and probably have been guilty of this as well, it just seems to be human nature. Words like this demean the real emotion of love, the power, the drug to be addicted to. So many ways to love, fall in love, experience love, in fact there are far too many to mention, THERE ARE NO RULES TO LOVE! are there?  Yet someone writes a few lines and hey: we are all using them. [including me]

Change, can be made voluntarily, as much as unknown to us, changes gradually happen while we live, not knowing it is happening. We are told this is life.  But is it and are we so readily to accept this, or should we question. I think it is often used as an excuse, not a reason. Health is a good reason for change, forced upon us, and we have to adapt and change to compensate the illness and its symptoms. That is another post, which will be written and edited shortly by Daily Gerald newspaper.

 Gaa/C 2014©

Daily Gerald981

Xmas Story [Gift of Love] 19

Thursday 19th December 2013.

Penultimate part.

Christmas story best

Home at Last.

Home at Last.

Xmas story 19

To be Continued.. Final part tomorrow….

Please excuse any errors and enjoy. Thank you.

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Restawyle

Nano, Nano for Where Art Thou Nano.

Thursday 28th November 2013

Third time Lucky ??????

My third Nanowrimo attempt, and am I successful or am I kidding myself?

2013 Winner

I have met up with some great people due to Nanowrimo, and supported each other. Especially the Campnano projects because they have a slightly different system. It is this that is all part of the writing enjoyment, coupled with the feeling one is not on their own.

I wonder why I actually do this, because at the end of the day the story will remain on my hard drive saved in a special file titled Nanowrimo. People have sent me their good wishes and congratulations, then ask about my  editing or publishing. But I have no idea, not even sure about the next process or who to do it with. Createspace is just one.  I do enjoy inventing stories, in fact I would say that my story lines and characters and the events that I include are very good and original. I also do all my own research, I do not rely on others to supply info or use as Muses, I can say all my lines come from my own head. However sometimes I wish I did have some one to assist when the mind goes blank.

 My failure is the quality of my writing, I have never been trained etc, apart from a little experience and reading and learning from some of you fabulous writers there is not much else.  I wrote a lot of poetry, [small booklet of 45 poems was published in 1998] in my younger and youthful days, as well as lyrics, of which some were used in songs but many are still sitting in my rather old and tatty song book. All hand written with mistakes and amendments, crossed out lines or words, comments in the margins, we all know about these precious books. 

Self publish, or a publisher, edit the stories, but surely the quality and standard of the words and grammar and proper English, [LOL] are what matters, not the limited descriptions. In my head I can see the scene or the character, but trying to describe it for the reader does not always work, if it does at all. I am not complaining just making a point, this point I believe is the feeling of many others.

My Stories/Novels.

I have written ‘Knight of the Oak’ subtitled ‘King of the Wood’ unfinished and currently on 65,000 words, ‘Birth of the Wizard Prince‘ also unfinished currently 55,000 words. ‘Our Dream‘ subtitled ‘Two Hearts.‘ this was finished,currently 62,000 words. Possibly might delete. The End. And my most recent 2013 challenge ‘The Parchment‘  was completed and on 63,000 words but do have ideas to add to it, a later project. My reason for mentioning this is because I cannot finish projects. The ones that are finished were easily done and fluent in the story lines, but the ones that are unfinished turned into a longer and deeper story.    

 Of course I am not including the short story and poetry projects I have done. The participation in a couple of writing web sites, these keep my imagination alert.

I could praise other writers or poets and say good things and how some maybe an inspiration to me, but in truth why should I, do I see my name being praised by them. I have many writers that I take inspiration from but I do not need to or even want to name drop, but then again maybe I should and people will think I am well in with the right circles. In truth this would be so full of bul…t. I listen and learn from people in my blogging world.

What’eth should thou do’eth with all thy words?  [Don’t answer that I know]

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Christmas story best Don’t forget to look out for the December challenge and Christmas love story Coming soon, book your seat now. I do hope that you enjoy and support the light-hearted feel good story.

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Knife and Scissors Man

Tuesday 25th March 2014.

“Knife and Scissors need sharpening ma’am. Just a penny fur each item.” He would shout with a broad yokel accent.

Just recently I have been researching folk songs and music. This particular style of music has always been a favourite of mine, and while doing so I came across this one. I could not find a recorded song so I have decided to make a normal post out of it rather than a music one that I intended to do. This song and title reminded me of old services that my mother use to use. Many of you might have even experienced or come across the same.

Knife and Scissors

Above is the song, and it brings to mind the days when I was a very young boy, a man, rather scruffy man with his bicycle toured the roads and streets touting for work. He was offering the sharpening of knives and scissors and all sorts of gardening tools, shears, pluming cutters, hoes, virtually anything that was offered to him..

Wonderful Memories!

His bicycle was fitted with two circular grinding stones. One large one and one small one, of different grades. Apparently a coarse stone and a fine stone.

Knife and scissors notes

He would  set his bicycle on a stand and make a few adjustments and somehow got his pedal and chain to connect with a few different cogs that would then enable him to turn the grind stones. Some of theses  pedlars  would be towing a small cart  which would carry other tools and a seat and cogs and connections. He would spend a few minutes setting up his bicycle so he could sit and peddle away turning the stones and sharpening the offerings given him. He was quite popular in our road, many of the neighbours would come out and get a selection of knives or scissors sharpened, including my mother.

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This man was just one of a few that use to travel our streets in those days. We use to have a pretend Frenchman selling onions, Another was man selling fresh vegetables  and other groceries from his van. My mother used him regularly. Every Friday he turned up about 5pm and he became a friend, his name was Mr Bishop. Also a coal delivery service every week, once and sometimes twice, depending on demand.

We also use to get a lot of other door to door selling, flower sellers, wooden peg sellers, and at Christmas others would appear trying to sell wreaths and log decorations. There are probably others that I cannot remember, but I bet you can think of a few different one.

Today trends have changed so much, health and safety etc, and this no longer happens, or at least to acceptability standards.

2014 signature

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Restawyle

Award from Karen.

Wednesday 21st August 2013..

Even though I have not been a busy blogger of late, for varying reasons, I was very surprised I received this award. And I accept it in the true cobbies69 style.  So again thank you Karen. I know I have used this vid before, but is very suitable.

A big thank you to Karen at http://drawingroomdays.wordpress.com/

http://drawingroomdays.wordpress.com/2013/07/18/i-am-feeling-most-loved/#comment-1790

MY Q & A: from and by Karen, I have answered as best I as I saw fit or legal. 😉

  • If you could be a movie star which one would you be?

  • Answer – Sean Connery.

  • What is the first thing you remember as a child?

  • Answer – a child ghost in my bedroom

  • Do you paint your toenails? What color?

  • Answer – As a guy I don’t teehee!

  • What is your favorite saying?

  • Answer – Whatever

  • If you could write with any color of ink, what color would it 

  • Answer be? – Indian Ink brown.

  • When you go out for fun, where and what do you do?  

  • Answer – Folk Club open mic

  • If someone put a small box in front of you, what would be in it?

  • Answer – Don’t know you would have to ask the person. I know what I would like it to be.

  • Which would you prefer ice cream or wading in a mountain stream?

  • Answer – A mountain stream for me.

  • When you finish work, what do you do first?

  • Answer – have a cup of tea, what else for and Englishman: smiling.

  • If you wrote a fairy-tale about a princess saving a prince, what would it be called?

  • Answer – Laurel of the Oak

  • Blow out the imaginary candles on this cake and tell me, what did you wish for?

  • Answer – Not to be here.

I thank Karen for thinking of me, well actually thinking of me twice, I am smiling at the thought. But I also want to apologize for the delay of this response. I had never forgotten it, just my mind was not in the right place to do any posting of any any sorts. Still not 100% in the saddle. But am now trying to pull through it. That is another story, and not really for public posting. But who knows, I might.

I digress, in true Cobbies69 style I offer this Award to any who wish it, help yourself, my only ask is that you like and leave a short comment of sorts saying this. Please enjoy, Thank you.

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Gerry A/C 2013©