Blog Battle: Flower

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#BlogBattle

This month the topic is ‘Flower’.  My story for January’s blog battle is below:

https://blogbattlers.wordpress.com/2019/01/01/flower/

RULES

1. 1000 words max (give or take a few)
2. fictional tale (or true if you really want)
3. Any genre that fits within PG-13 (or less) Content – let’s keep this family friendly!
4. Your story must contain the randomly chosen word(s) and/or be centered around the word meaning in a way that shows it is clearly related.
5. Go for the entertainment value!
6. Put a link back to your #BlogBattle Short Story in the comments section
7. Please tweet and otherwise share your battler buddies’ stories across social media.
   1. Use the hashtag #BlogBattle when tweeting all the stories so we can cross-share.

A SINGLE RED ROSE, BY STEVIE TURNER

COPYRIGHT STEVIE TURNER, 2019

She always took a bunch of flowers to her father’s grave every year on the anniversary of his passing.  Her brother Steven had never bothered, but it assuaged Suzy’s guilt somewhat at not having been the daughter he’d wanted her to be.  She had never felt close to him at all, but now he was safely in the afterlife she could dutifully tend his grave and ensure the marble stone bearing his name was kept relatively free of moss.

The cemetery was bathed in warm dappled light on that late summer’s afternoon.  Suzy parked at the entrance and picked up her bag containing gardening and cleaning equipment, idly re-reading the now familiar poignant inscriptions as she strolled along the path between lines of graves towards where Desmond Warren rested for eternity.

The path ended by a yew tree under which lay her father in a pre-paid family plot big enough for two.  Suzy gazed at the grave in surprise, remembering with an ironic smile her mother’s wishes to be buried as far away from Desmond as it was possible to achieve.  The tombstone was sparkling in the sunshine, but not a weed or clump of moss could be seen.  She was further intrigued to discover one flower lying on top of the gravel chippings; a single red rose.

The petals had not withered, and there were no signs of decay.  Suzy checked all around her, but nobody else was in view.  She picked up the rose and inhaled its heady scent, pushing back memories of dripping cut flowers and her mother’s precious crystal vase as it shattered against the conservatory wall.

She replaced the rose, noticing at the same time how the chippings underneath it had been disturbed.  Suzy dug down a little deeper into the gravel and pulled at the corner of a white card which had been secured by the weight of stones above.  The card depicted a printed photo of her father as a younger man standing smiling with his arm around her mother’s waist.  She recognised the background as that of her parents’ favourite beach, Southwold, on the Suffolk coast.

The card begged to be opened.  Blinking back tears, Suzy read the words that her mother had written in the shaking hand of illness and old age:

‘Des, much water has gone under the bridge since that terrible day when I could stand no more pain.  The years without you have been the happiest I’ve known, but your life was cut short  before I’d gained enough insight and wisdom to realise why you were the man you were.  Forgive me.  I was young with two children who needed a loving and secure home.

 I cannot turn back the clock and undo the wrong I did, but now at the end of my life I ask for your forgiveness.  Here with you is where I want to lie when the Lord feels fit to take me.  Steven knows my wishes, and brought me here today.  I remain as always, your wife, Alice.’

There were no kisses or declarations of love.  Suzy sighed, shovelled some of the chippings to one side with a trowel, and re-buried the card.  Then she laid her bouquet next to her mother’s, stood up, and quickly walked away.

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Rudeness Will Get You Nowhere

There’s a website local to us where people can make recommendations or ask for recommendations, for example for cleaners, plumbers, or electricians etc.

I thought I’d give it a go and ask if anybody in the vicinity could alter 8 pairs of curtains for our holiday home.  I’d bought them cheaply for £175 in yet another store’s closing down sale (they would have normally been priced at £550).  The hems all needed taking up a few inches, and although I can do it myself, I would rather somebody else did it as a professional seamstress would more likely make a better job of it.   I also added that I’d been quoted £240 from a lady who runs a local dressmaking shop, which I thought was rather on the high side.

The replies came in thick and fast.  One woman told me to ‘get real’, and that £240 is the going rate for altering that many curtains.  Subsequent messages from her became so obnoxious that I blocked her, and she hadn’t even offered to alter them in the first place!  Others quoted more than £240, and some even asked me what planet I thought I was living on.

However, each respondent obviously wanted the job.  I started receiving private messages from a few of the ladies who had originally given me extortionate prices.  They’d ‘had a think’, and surprise surprise, they had decided the price they’d quoted could be reduced.  So far I hadn’t replied to any of them, as their attitude had pissed me off greatly.

The lady who did get the job gave me a quote straight away of £145.  She had her own workshop about 2 miles away, which I never knew existed, and she had been polite from start to finish.  I took the curtains to her last week, and we chatted away like old friends.  I shall be using her for any alterations in the future, and so it just goes to show that politeness does pay.

Some people are too quick to flare up over the slightest thing, and I tend to stay away from them as much as I can.  It doesn’t hurt at all to be polite and civil.  At work we have a ‘zero tolerance’ policy.  Any patient yelling and shouting at the other end of the phone soon gets to hear the dialling tone, as the receiver gets replaced rather smartly.  People, including those like me who live on a different planet, don’t like being yelled at, and the sooner folk realise this the sooner they will get what they want!

 

Lily: A Short Story, has reached the last 50!

One fervently hopes this is the last time I’ll need to ask for votes for a while.  Thanks to all who have voted so far.  Apparently ‘Lily: A Short Story’ has now amassed 58 votes and has moved up into the echelons of the last 50 covers for the AllAuthor Cover of the Month contest.  The next and final round will narrow it down to the last 24.

Er… can I please ask for your votes again by clicking on the AllAuthor link below?  Thanks so much!

https://allauthor.com/cover-of-the-month/3485/

Speak ‘Proper’…

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East End

There’s a chap on TV around 6.30pm who always used to say…”Coming up – all your news and wevver“.  However, quite recently he now takes great care to pronounce ‘weather’ correctly with a rather pained expression I might add, which leads me to think that somebody at the BBC has had a little word with him.

This so reminds me of one of the many childhood battles between my mother Dot and me over pronunciation.  My East End accent for about the first 20 years of my life was execrable (although I didn’t know it then), but I used to argue my point with Dot that I’d only inherited the accent from her!  Back would fly the retort from Dot that at least she would know when to speak properly.

Yes, Dot could apply when necessary one of those cut-glass telephone voices that used to make me giggle when I heard it.  Back in the bosom of her family her accent would resemble Chas ‘n Dave’s, just like the rest of us.  I used to tell her “I am what I am, and don’t try to change me.”

As I grew older I realised that yes, an accent does make a difference.  Compare the well-modulated tones of the late Dan Maskell at Wimbledon for example to the ‘regional’ accent of the ‘news and wevver’ bloke, and you’ll see what I mean.  You may have an IQ off the top of the Mensa scale, but if you eff and bleedin’ ‘ell, then people are going to judge you.

When I garnered some sense I did try and improve my accent.  Funnily enough I don’t hear the East End accent so much now living in Suffolk ( different accent altogether, sadly), but I had a pleasant surprise last year when visiting the East London cemetery to lay flowers on Dot’s grave, who is buried there with her mother.  A couple of ladies were chatting as they stood around a nearby grave, and I had a little thrill of recognition at the accent.  It was my accent – the one I’d grown up with, and up until then I hadn’t realised just how much I’d missed it.

Open Book Blog Hop – January 14th

This week the topic is:

Have you ever been duped by a so-called service to authors?  And what is the best service you’ve ever used?

Back in 2009 when I wrote my first non-fiction book I was rather naïve regarding predatory author ‘services’, which are there purely to relieve writers of their money.  I’d taken advice from a doctor where I worked, who had also written his first book and had used A*********e for publishing it.  He was, and is, a millionaire, and so looking back with hindsight I expect the cost of publishing was mere peanuts to him.

Anyway, there I was with all these words I’d written, and I thought that if a doctor had recommended this publishing company, then they must be okay (!).  I contacted A*********e, who assured me that yes, they would publish my book.  They assigned me a ‘representative’, who sent me a list of charges.

I was dismayed to discover it would cost about £600 to publish my book, but nevertheless, parted with my hard-earned cash (this did not include editing or proof-reading by the way).

It appeared on Amazon, and I was delighted, but no other marketing was ever undertaken by them.  Soon after this I read about vanity presses, discovered KDP, and kicked myself heartily.  For the next 8 years until I finally managed to rid myself of them, I was hounded by ‘representatives’ to publish more of my books for ever-increasing costs.  They would ring me at all hours of the day and evening, ignoring the fact that I had repeatedly informed them I did not want to do any more business with the company.  Arrgh!

Contrary to this, the best service I’ve ever used is Maria Lazarou’s Obsessed by Books Designs, who is very reasonably priced, replies to my emails very quickly, and who is in the process of formatting some of my books and designing new covers.  Nothing is too much trouble, and she has often gone above and beyond the call of duty for me.

Click on the blue button below to discover the author services other blog-hoppers give a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down to.  You can even add your own recommendations!

Sunday Stills Photography Challenge – Vintage

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#SundayStills

I searched through my old photos to find a suitable one for the Sunday Stills ‘Vintage‘ topic today.  I came up with this one of me and my mother Dot, taken about 1963. We were staying at one of those awful 1950s holiday sites that resemble prisoner-of-war camps.  I always had to have the bow in the hair to match the dress, much to my disgust…

Jaye’s Journal (week 3)

This got me thinking. Yes, we are cut off from the world without electricity if we do not have a mobile phone. I used to keep mine in the car just for emergencies, but my family tend to communicate via text messages and become irate if I do not answer!

anita dawes and jaye marie

Jaye Marie’s writing life

The good news this week is that the WIP is almost sorting itself out.

After weeks of deep thought and frustration, my muse has obviously returned, with her sleeves rolled up and determination written all over her face. Parts that were previously difficult to understand, have become clearer and easier to read. My mind seems to know what to do, so I’m not arguing!

Then, on the third day, the power went out. We had no hot water, electricity, Internet or heating. Zilch!

Instantly, we needed coffee, then toast. Looking at the blank computer screen was depressingly annoying. I had visions of us being discovered, emaciated and frozen stiff, huddled together fYou get the picture!

Somewhere in the house, we had a camping stove although I had no clue where. If we wanted coffee, I would have to find it.

The worst part was not knowing…

View original post 258 more words

Friday Click & Run – January 11th

Sometimes when we’re busy it’s nice to simply leave a link to our blog or blog post and run, and so Friday Click and Run is just for that purpose. However, of course you can check out others’ links and share away if you want to. So… every Friday do add some info of what your blog is about and also link to your blog or blog post in the comments if you’ve got a minute. You don’t have to do anything else such as sharing or commenting unless you really want to. Isn’t that cool? People may decide to check your link out, or they may not. They might decide to leave their own link and run as well, so you may meet each other heading out the door. If I see a post that’s a bit risqué, then I shall be running too – straight to the ‘delete’ button!

Fire away then… let’s see what we end up with. This blog will run until next Friday.

Thanks to the 5 authors/bloggers who left their links last week.

What Everyone Seems to be Doing in 2019

There’s one word that sums it all up.  It’s a word that I learned from the pain medicine nurses back in 2006 regarding patients that come up with every excuse under the sun why they cannot diet or do any exercise.  What’s the word?  It’s…

Catastrophise.

Ankles or knees might give way if the patient ventures out of their armchair.  Their glands might explode, or sudden unfamiliar movement might send them into a diabetic coma…

It’s not only pain patients that catastrophise.  Look at some of the catastrophic scenarios on the daily news bulletins about another word that I’m heartily sick of… Brexit:

• The price of goods might go up in the shops.
• It might be harder to acquire medications (stockpiles are already being assembled).
• There might be queues at borders due to heightened customs and passport checks.
• Flights to the EU might be grounded.

And it doesn’t stop there.  About September time my holiday home site starts to bombard owners with catastrophising letters regarding what might happen if they don’t pay to have their caravans ‘winterised’.  Sam asked them what he had to do to ensure the van  will still be usable when we return in the spring, and he was given a list of tasks to carry out, which of course the site will do for a fee.  We looked at the list, and for instance they charge £65 for ‘draining down’ the caravan, which took Sam about 10 minutes to do.  They ask for £20 to top up the radiators with Fernox, which prevents the water inside from freezing.  My son, a heating engineer, says this is unnecessary if the central heating system has had nothing done to it, as it’s a closed system.

To my horror, Sam started catastrophising at the weekend.  We’re going to have two rooms plastered, and all the furniture needs taking out and storing in the garage. Sam catastrophised about the garage flooding, and I had to remind him it’s only flooded once in 28 years!

My son’s mother-in-law constantly catastrophises; it does my head in.  It makes me wonder whether catastrophising might be the new trend for 2019?

 

 

 

‘Lily’ has reached the 2nd round of voting.

Thanks to all who have voted in the AllAuthor ‘Cover of the Month’ contest for my historical fiction book ‘Lily: A Short Story’.  I’m pleased to announce the cover has now reached the second round of voting, with 49 votes so far.  I’m in the last 100 now, with the second round narrowing it down to the last 50.  The cover also had 422 likes. I’m amazed!

So… if you wouldn’t mind casting a second vote please by clicking the link below, then I’d be most grateful.  Thank you in advance!

https://allauthor.com/cover-of-the-month/3485/