Memorial Day Ceremony

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, Struggling Writer May 28, 2018

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Daily Prompt

Today our local paper’s feature story is about Hal Kushner, a U.S. Army veteran and the keynote speaker for this afternoon’s Memorial Day ceremony at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C.

Kushner known from “The Vietnam War,” a ten-part documentary series aired last September is 77 years old, still works as Ophthalmologist, and was a five-year POW. I was pleased to see the News-Journal coverage of his story and several articles sharing other veteran’s stories.

Reminiscing,  Earl Tingle Jr. said ‘I wanted to go,’ ‘I feel a sense of tragedy’  Dr. Frank Farmer explained  and Neal Coates expressed gratitude saying,  ‘I was blessed to come back.’

Each tell poignant stories, however the caption, ‘This one will be different’ above Hal Kushner front-page picture struck a chord. He was referencing today’s ceremony and intrigued as to why his experience would be different continued reading.

Kushner says speaking has taken on a “personal difficulty” and he thinks as we age have less control over our emotions and are more emotional.

I cannot help thinking he is a lucky man and wish I was attending the ceremony.

.  .  .  .  Seriously just saying


<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/ceremony/">Ceremony</a>

 

Assumption

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, #Writing Exercise May 24, 2018 1 Comment

Daily Prompt

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Assumption, false or true

You believe says more about me, not you

Tell me the truth

Is that the real you?

Yes, I am pointing a finger

Because the outside suggest a different view

Are you being dishonest hiding the truth

Then with  good excuse, take your hurt feelings and cry boohoo

                                                

                                                                                                     .  .  .  .  Seriously just saying

Disappear – Really?

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor May 23, 2018

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Daily Prompt

Saturday unable to view my WordPress blog, I did not think much about it. We were having dinner company, I should be setting the table and besides there would be time in the morning.

Sunday morning, however, I still could not view the site, only the W on an empty page. The login box was gone, disappeared. That is impossible I told myself, it is here just invisible, un-seeable, view-less.

So I typed the URL http://www.claudiajustsaying.com in the tool bar and bingo, my posts appear and relief fanned off panic, however there is still no login box. It does not appear! It has disappeared!

Well if the WordPress front door is shut perhaps, a back door was left open and I attempt to like another blog posted on the Daily Prompt site and cannot.

I recently upgraded my WordPress account and have a promise that the Happiness Engineers will chat with me but that is not working because I need a login box to tell them I am in distress. I search the help option reading answers to many questions that do not HELP ME!

The login box has disappeared.

Perhaps I have been hacked so I change my password and sent a security code but when everything is said and done cannot get in, a login box will not appear.

Desperate I open my receipt email for payment of the upgrade, send a reply email to Owen at WordPress, and go to bed.

With my head on a pillow and unable to sleep, rather than mourn the loss of eight years of blogging I force myself to replay the happy Royal Wedding of Megan Markle and Prince Harry and image what I would have done to Prince Charles had I been Lady Di.

Thankfully in the morning there was a response from Owen asking for a screen image and instructions on how to do this, which impressed with myself was able to. His follow up suggested using another browser, and I did with success, the disappeared box appeared.

The problem was with my search engine and it took another hour exploring their help button to get things working.

Seriously, I am extremely grateful to Owen and the other Happiness Engineers in helping the disappear to appear.

.   .   .   . Seriously Just Saying

Daily Prompt: Captivating

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, #Learn to Write/Begin to Write, Struggling Writer March 12, 2018

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Alluring, irresistible, fascinating or at the least intriguing, is what she wanted to be, not this reflection in the mirror; a short chubby woman with bed hair, wearing a worn blouse, a large watermark decorating her breasts. In front of a Dyson hand dryer, she held the shirt up to watch the water stain shrink and wished she could too.

Once back at the sink, searched for styling gel inside her handbag then applied the right amount to bring some curl into her hair. Unbuttoning the top button on the blouse changed the too tight look to voluptuous .   .   .   .    applying hot red lip-gloss made her closer to  captivating.  

 

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

via Daily Prompt: Captivating

Compromise

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, #Learn to Write/Begin to Write, #Writing Exercise February 19, 2018 1 Comment

Daily Prompt Compromise th

Just when I think I am not going to compromise, I do.

Lucky are the few who never have to, or should that be too?

Compromise, a tendency so strong I am confused.  

Is it about having my way, winning or being sore?

I prefer not to sit down to dinner at 4:30 or 5PM, but I do,

Because it suits you!

There is so much more to compromise, you haven’t a clue

Do you?

 

 

 

Silent Passenger

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, #Learn to Write/Begin to Write, Struggling Writer July 1, 2017 Comments: 3

Daily Prompt

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I was the last passenger to arrive and quickly slid into the remaining seat on the bus. The driver closed the door, check both side mirrors for traffic then pulled out of the driveway of Betty’s Shuttle Bus Service. Although It was an eight-passenger van, there were seven of us. The man behind me took up two seats. I wondered if he had paid for two, making the fifty-mile trip to the airport express, or if we would be topping along the way to pick up a finale passenger. The girl next to him, a Laura Dern lookalike, squirmed in her thin body staring out the window.

 At 6:35 AM, the sun was just rising and promised a hot day.

In the way back was a teenager dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, plugged into his cell with an mostly empty backpack on his lap. Along side of him could be his girlfriend or sister. They pushed against each other with their arms in a familiar but not too happy manner. The passengers in the middle seat, significantly older, could be a couple; a man and woman about the same age looking like each other.

No one spoke as the radio blared Kenny Rogers’ song, “Know When to Hold Them.”

However, heads began to shake disapprovingly with a news report of President Donald Trump’s latest tweet. The lead in; Trump lashes out again at Morning Joe host.  

The elderly man in the middle seat removed his Yankee baseball cap, scratched his head, and turned to the woman along side of him, “What is wrong with that man?” he asked.

She crossed her arms around her thick waist and gave her breasts a supportive boost, “I don’t even know what a tweet is, but I’m embarrassed for him.”

“He’s a bully!” The Laura Dern lookalike stated emphatically.

The man taking up two seats wiped rolling down beads of sweat from his brow with a dirty cloth handkerchief with a grunt.

The kid way back removed his ear buds and called out, “Dudes, Trump’s cool, that’s what people do, no worries.”

I rummaged through my tote bag looking for nothing.

 

. . . . Seriously Just Saying

Gooey Snack

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, #Learn to Write/Begin to Write, #Writing Exercise, Struggling Writer June 30, 2017

 

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Daily Prompt

     Remember the days of mushy white wonder bread spread with margarine and sprinkled with real sugar, that was a snack after we changed out of school clothes into play clothes (woolen Jamaica shorts, argyle socks and white Keds.

     It was the time of hot dogs, English muffin pizza, Bologna sandwiches, cool aid, powdered milk, and the introduction of frozen vegetables.

     My all time favorite snack, however, was crackers smeared with gooey peanut butter and of course grape jelly.

     Today I indulged in that with an afternoon cup of coffee and found myself in heaven.

 

. . .  Seriously just saying

Good Looking

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, #Writing Exercise, Struggling Writer June 5, 2017

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Daily Prompt Uniform

The Cadets filed across the stage one by one, abruptly stopped or came to a halt and after saluting the Commander came to rest. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder hands at their sides, the buttoned down shirt collars smiled. Snug belts hugged midriffs and razor sharp creases cascaded their pant legs brushing the tops of high shine black shoes, making each one indistinguishable from the next. The sameness and harmony guaranteeing no one was more important.

. . . .  Seriously Just Saying

Precipice of Life

#Daily Prompt/Metaphor, #Learn to Write/Begin to Write, #Writing Exercise May 22, 2017

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Daily Prompt

Photo by Skogafoss

Precipice of Life

     Julia stands on the cliff; the roar of water deafens the constant stream of thoughts in her head. Whispers bring her alarmingly close to the edge as her heart throbs. Her toes grip loose pebbles scattered on the dirt path, she secures footing and breathes in the cool air. Water cascades like a bridal veil over rocks flat from years of pounding as she ponders the pros and cons. Jumping is the surest way to end the piercing pain now part of her existence. The gasping and gagging for breathe over in minutes welcoming peace. Water bounces off the rocks below splashing her to her senses and a realization of what her “gone missing” could do to the people left behind. Tears flood her eyes. She sits, pulls her knees close to her chest, and wrapping her arms around them sobs in tune with the cascading xylophone sound.

Boohoo Coffee Cup

#Learn to Write/Begin to Write, #Writing Exercise, Struggling Writer May 13, 2017

Boohoo Coffee Cup

thThere is something appealing, soothing about the cardboard cup in my hand. The container dressed in army green with a crisp white lid appears dignified. A dirt brown cuff wrapped around its middle protects my fingers and palm from the too hot content. The walk from the coffee station to a comfortable table and chair looks to be an easy task but is not when my handbag slips off my shoulder. The strap lands in the crook of my elbow, I tighten my hand around the paper cuff which pops open the lid and hot liquid slides down its crisp exterior threatening to scald my hand. I rush to the nearest table fearing what would come    next, that is when we met.