Intentions…

Image by Manfred Richter from Pixabay

“Plans are only good intentions unless they immediately degenerate into hard work.”

Peter Drucker

Intentions are weird things, aren’t they?

But between making up your mind and getting around to doing anything, a whole world can and usually does, interfere. Leaving us wondering why we bother in the first place.

So many jobs (or at least the intention) have fallen by the wayside lately. Most can wait and the sky won’t fall on your head, but there is usually at least one that if not done, will have dire consequences.

Cutting the grass in our jungle of a garden is one of these. If I allow the grass to grow unchecked, it could be waist high before I know it and my ancient mower won’t be able to cope.

With this knowledge foremost in my mind, I intended to cut it last night once the sun had set, and coolness had returned. Not only didn’t the sun set, the heat showed no sign of abating either. I was already suffering from the heat and the thought of all that hard work nearly sent me into a proper meltdown.

That’s when Anita (the voice of reason) had a brilliant idea.

‘Why don’t you cut it in the morning before the heat builds up?’

So, that’s what I did.

By nine thirty this morning, I had finished, cool as a cucumber and considerably smug. Even the sight of all the new bramble growth couldn’t dampen my spirits.

Now, where is that list of intentions?

Fandango’s #Flash Fiction Challenge #Poetry

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #121

The photo Is from Reddit.

These beautiful whale sharks are my
favourite creatures in the ocean, bar none
I am 75, and before I leave this earth,
I will swim with them
Whenever I see them on TV
They look as though they are made of velvet,
another of my favourite things, soft, sensual
I hope to cross this off my bucket list soon
I will say no more, or I will go on for days
About their gentle beauty…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#Throwback Thursday : Shattered Figurines… (Det. Jo Naylor Series Book 1) Our 5* review for Allan Hudson’s brilliant new #Adventure Story @hudson_allan

 

 

Detective Josephine Naylor receives an email telling her where to find the last body. The messenger tells her “only you can stop this madness”. Discovering a shattered figurine on the corpse, she’s overwhelmed by the possibility it might be the one she sold in a yard sale. If so, she knows who the killer could be. She prays that she’s wrong…

Our Review

The opening chapter presents the detective, Jo Naylor, with a very important question. One she didn’t really want to answer but knows she must.

The next chapter, one year later, hits you square in the face with full on complicated and violent action as we discover what this story is all about.

Shattered Figurines is a surprisingly unusual detective story in that it doesn’t follow the usual plotline for this genre and the characters aren’t run of the mill either. The author has captured a very real element in both the story and the characters and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

I love a good detective mystery story and Shattered Figurines is one of the best I have read this year. I shall be first in the queue when the author writes another one in this series.

The Latest Visitors…

Image by Elsemargriet from Pixabay

When this rowdy crowd of what looked like black birds started to visit our garden, we thought they must be a kind of crow.

We knew they weren’t ravens, as their colouring was a bit different.

It was on the first visit that we noticed just how distinctive these birds are. Not as large as a raven, a shiny black body with a steel grey head and the most incredible blue eyes. I looked them up and discovered they were jackdaws.

They became regular visitors, enviously watching the smaller birds busy at the bird feeders. Over the next few days I watched as one of these strange birds gradually taught himself to land on the small containers. He looked up at me, and I swear he smiled, pleased at his accomplishment.

Before long, they all knew how to do it, and the feeders needed filling up a lot more often!

Cheekily, if the feeders are empty when they arrive, they all gather on the fence, calling loudly until the feeder is filled. I have to admit that I spend a lot of time watching them at the moment…

I did take a lot of photographs, but until I figure out how to get these old files on to the new computer, I am grateful for Pixabay.com.

Jaye’s Week…

I started the week in good spirits despite having a roaring toothache.

There is so much I want to do, book and writing-wise. The bonsai are beginning to wake up, and the garden is still a jungle. Several jobs have been neglected around the house, but I am learning to move from room to room with my eyes averted!

Seriously though, I am beginning to wonder about my job description.

  • Head cook and bottle washer
  • Housekeeper and accounts clerk
  • Part-time carer and medication assistant
  • Full time writer/blogger/editor
  • Bonsai enthusiast and part-time gardener

DIY/decorator should be on this list, but I just can’t make myself do it.  Not sure how I can manage to fit everything in, but I must try. Even though I am aware of that old maxim, Jack of all Trades, master of none…

~~~~~~

The dentist assured me that there was no infection last week and that the aching hole in my gum would stop hurting very soon. I didn’t believe him then, and I wasn’t buying it now, for the pain is worse, accompanied by some severe throbbing. Made an appointment to see him on Thursday.

While I waited, I tried to find any trace of the creative spark in my head and failed, so I resigned to doing routine work on the computer. This wasn’t easy either, what with the pain in my mouth and the granddaddy of all headaches, but it was something.

After a speedy Xray, the dentist had to admit I had an infection. My swollen gum must have cinched it, and I toddled off home with some strong antibiotics.

A walk around the garden provided me with some lovely images to close with…

See you soon, hopefully with news of some progress!

Anita’s Surprise response to Jim Webster’s post ~ Hedging in your shirt sleeves…

Hedging in your shirt sleeves

Anita surprised me this morning, by asking to read your post, Jim as she is determined to learn the finer arts of blogging/ Here is the original post and Anita’s comments…

Good morning Jim,

The hedge… a good way to remember your grandfather.

Tackling the hedge… sounds to me as if your grandfather is still having fun.

The new younger stuff… seems to me a blend of two souls, old and new.

Todays hedges… here I can see nothing goes to waste.

(Personally, I like order)

laying hedges… I hope you have better luck this time.

Complaining … people do like to moan. It’s what keeps them going on to the next good moan, as to the schemes and contracts, it’s a wonder you know which end is up. I believe nothing is ever truly wasted, it’s a learning curve to another person’s way of life.

Tuesday… I would like to spend a day on your farm with my sleeves rolled up.

Jaye would love to know how you placed those four hearts at the bottom of your post…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#WritephotoTribute ~ Murmur #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Murmur #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows dark clouds and bare trees against a fiery sunset, with a murmration of starlings creating a cloud of their own.

Red sky, flames from a hidden fire

Illuminates the dark barren land

Black clouds tendrils reaching

Searching the darkness for something lost

The sheer weight of it pushing me down

Slowing my footsteps

I longed for the murmur of waves along the shore

Where I paddled as a child

Somehow, I have been dropped into this wasteland

An unwanted morsel of humanity

No sign of life save for the starlings

Swaying, painting their patterns across the dark grey

Their sky murmur, a last dance before sleep

Reminding me of many a last dance

Played out over time

Do those lost lovers touch in sweet refrain?

Does our world echo a continuous murmur of love?

Do we feed from this almost silent murmur?

Like hungry children

I think it must be so, for we are still here

Swaying, dancing our own murmur in silence…

©Anita Dawes

This post is our tribute to Sue Vincent, for all the lovely prompts she has given us with #Writephoto over the years. To cheer her up on these dark days… GET WELL SOON, Sue…