Excuses, Something else, Nano Poblano

Day 30. The final day. Last post of the month. I blogged every day in November!

HUZZAH!

*Clears throat*

Well.

Almost.

I kind of succeeded 93% of the time. I blogged 28/30 days. Which is a 7% fail. Which is still 28 more posts I might have done otherwise. But also. I’m not sure if that’s how this works.

And while I say 93% success, I cheated on some of those. Cheated within the rules but against my own brain’s blogging standards. Brain expects more than simply blogging everyday. Brain says I have to write proper, meaningful posts. Photo-posts are a no-no, imbedding music videos with the hashtag ‘currentmood’ doesn’t meet the grade. A post where I waffle on with excuses of tiredness – CODSWALLOP!

Which means Brain thinks I had a 56.6% success rate. I can round that figure up, right?

Fortunately for me, in recent years, I’m better at ignoring that part of my brain.

So, thank you team Cheer Peppers! Thank you to those who found the time to read my posts and those who were able to leave a comment. Thank you Ra, for Nano Poblano.

Well done everyone, whatever your success rate – never forget that you blog for yourself!

*Group hug*


nanopoblano1

Off the Back of NaBloPoMo

Or as we Tiny Peppers like to call it, Nano Poblano.

Or, as I’ve been calling it lately (today), NaNo Problemo.

So, Day 30. Here I am, I took you on. I won. The only day-fail coming off the back of an ice skating accident and taking my friend to Emergency. Friday the 13th and all. But I caught you up.

IN YOUR FACE, November. IN. YOUR. FACE.

*ahem*

So, where am I at? What will this mean? Has it changed my life?

Meh. Huh? Maybe.

Time will tell. Today, I feel I will blog more often, which honestly, is a stupid thing to say because blogging more often than I did before NoBloPoMo won’t exactly be a stretch. But, irrespective of whether I do or don’t – I know I can. I’ve blogged every day for a month. WOOT! Two years ago I didn’t think I’d ever do that, the very thought would have made me vomit.

Not literally. Obviously.

I’ve been forced to rein in my self editor (who’s normally brutal). And I’ve been posting with mistakes. I been posting without twenty-million re-reads. Without relying on my husband’s proof-reading.

Congratulations to those who took on NaBloPoMo and/or Nano Poblano and won. And congratulation to those who gave NaBloPoMo and/or Nano Poblano a go. There are no losers. You’re all amazing.

And I wish to thank you. All those people who’ve found me here during my thirty day blogging frenzy with special thanks to those who’ve taken the time to leave a comment. I have found new friends here.

And thank you, Ra. You have no idea how much awesome you make.

Finding Hope

A thought has lingered for a day now.

I suspect I will not be rid of it until I write it down, but at the same time, turning these words over won’t make anything other than compost.

As I try to keep up with the wondrous blog posts coming from Nano Poblano (Ra’s version of NaBloPoMo). I read this one by Janelle Weibz.

Now, I have never heard of the series Gundam, but this bit stuck with me:

“…I realize the thing about peace is that it can’t really exist without war, in the same way that light can’t exist without darkness. We had to talk about war to even begin to understand what peace meant, what society looked like or could look like.”

I realised, it wasn’t something I wanted to hear. I started questioning everything. Is the only reason I love is because I know hate?

Now to make another television series analogy, remember Stargate  SG1? And if you remember this, perhaps you remember The Nox?

They were my vision of humanity’s future. A peace loving, kind, anti-war sort of folk. You know, when the human race is ‘older’, maybe we’ll learn from our mistakes, maybe we’ll be these things.

Janelle also said this:

“We are all human; we can’t so easily remove ourselves from our situations, from our affiliations, from our histories and biases and traumas and experiences.”

Perhaps my hope for humanity’s future, is empathy – seeing things from the perspectives of others. Having a broad view.

I don’t know.

I still believe in kindness and I hope I didn’t need to see cruelty to know it.

 


nanopoblano2015darkDay 20 of Nano Poblano! That is, Ra’s version of NaBloPoMo.

We’re posting everyday in the month of November!

When I say ‘we’ I mean these awesome folk.

Post Apocalypse

I am easily amused. Most recently I posted a letter, in that old fashioned way that requires a mailman. On the box, under the word ‘Post’, someone had written ‘apocalypse’. I stood with my letter poised at the mouth of the letter box and laughed out loud.

See. Easily amused.

It was 1997 and I’d just emerged from a mathematics exam. I sat on a bench seat and waited for my parents to pick me up. Ten minutes transpired and I moved into the shade, the mid afternoon sun burned at my skin. On the University lawn, a sprinkler snickered its rotation in the background. Thirty minutes transpired. They were never late.

I grabbed the family mobile out of my bag. Yes, the ‘family’ mobile. It WAS 1997. The battery was dead. I looked up to the phone box and stared in amazement as the lawn sprinklers rotated in and out of the semi enclosed area.

I dashed in with my phone card, dialled my parent’s number and said something along the lines of ‘Everything okay? I’ve got to be quick, the sprinkler is on the phone box, hang on, I’ll be back in a second-‘ dashed out while the phone was showered with water.

‘What? The car broke down?’

I listened and nodded.

‘Wait, the sprinkler’s coming back-‘

Ducked out again.

‘You’ll be another half hour? Okay, I’ll be here. Sorry, gotta go.’

 

Have you experienced a moment in time that feels like that should be in a film or sitcom?


nanopoblano2015darkClick on the link to visit the team of Tiny Peppers. It’s Rarasaur’s version of NaBloPoMo and it’s called Nano Poblano.  Or, as I’ve been calling it lately Nano Problano.

We’re blogging every day in the month of November! I think I’m actually getting the hang of this.

Stranger Danger

At school, we did a course called Stranger Danger. I was all of seven years old and we were educated in the matter of childhood abduction. What to do. What not to do. Words like molestation weren’t mentioned. We weren’t told that culprits were likely to be people we knew. I was lucky enough not to be one of these victims.

Yet, there have been many circumstances where strangers were nice. Even kind.

My grandfather told me about the time he broke down. This is before mobile phones and before my grandparents even had a land line. He was at the side of the road for a good hour before someone pulled over to offer assistance. This fellow was from a low socio-economic background, under-educated and on the side of poor. He offered help.

My grandfather said, ‘Those who have less often give more.’

Once, when at university I was coming home on the bus and felt ill. For three whole stops I kept telling myself I could make it.  By the time I reached my final stop, I had to lay down to prevent myself from fainting. I splayed out on the concrete footpath. A stranger asked me if I was okay.

At school a man stood with a fellow student. I wandered over to find the gentleman trying to explain the currency ‘yen’ to him in broken English.

“We have cents,” I said, “While the Japanese have yen.”

The gentleman thanked me, turned to me and bowed. “For you.” he said, and handed me a coin, hollow and tied with a red ribbon. I still have it.

And once, this happened:

It was a glorious sunny day and I felt on top of the world. It was my day off, and I was walking through town after just treating myself to a small bunch of flowers for the house. I rounded the corner and I saw a well dressed middle-aged man sat on a bench rubbing the back of a woman who laid across him. She was sobbing. Hopeless, shaking sobs. I felt embarrassed that myself and the entire bustling street had caught them in this private and heart-wrenching moment of their lives. I wish I had stopped. I wish I asked them if they were okay. I wish I’d given them my flowers.

So this was a non-list post, inspired by a list-post prompt from Rarasaur.

“Strangers you’ll never forget”

What are yours?


nanopoblano2015darkClick on the link to visit the team of Tiny Peppers. It’s Rarasaur’s version of NaBloPoMo and it’s called Nano Poblano.  Or, as I’ve been calling it lately Nano Problano.

We’re blogging every day in the month of November! I think I’m actually getting the hang of this.

Scent Memory

It’s been a busy week, so I’m using a list-post prompt provided by the wondrous Rarasaur.

“Things I associate with smell”

The smell of freshly mowed grass is summer. It’s backyard cricket, it’s family picnics and barbeques. It’s holidays and weekends. It’s the day after Christmas.

The scent of paper and books and stationary is contentment. Solitude. Joy.

My grandfather’s shed was a mix of oil and turps and solder and saw dust and oil paints and was either cold and damp or hot and humid. It is a difficult scent to explain but when I find a scent like it, it triggers strong memories. Like stamping fake letters with his drill press and posting them, playing games, watching him work, his voice and patience and his desire to teach me about electronics and stuff I was too young to understand.

The smell of hospitals and veterinary clinics and dentists remind me of anxiety and nausea.

The unique scent of those we love is contentment and sanctuary.

Coffee reminds me of yumminess. It is mornings and tiredness but it’s also sitting together and chatting. Of course, it also reminds me of blogging.


nanopoblano2015darkI’m late with my post today, but I have great excuse!

Don’t forget to visit Ra’s small community of Tiny Peppers participating in her version of NaBloPoMo. Click on the icon, and peck a crate to visit a random post.

If I haven’t reached your blog yet – I promise I will!

Don’t Quote Me

I’ve managed to make it to Day 9 of Nano Poblano without writing a list blog. Except for the Lost post, but that doesn’t count because it wasn’t written in eleventh-hour panic. Today, I’ve drawn a blank but fortunately Ra kindly left a prompt page for such occasions. Although they are list-prompts, I read through them to see if one of them could inspire a non-list post.

“Stuff you’ve said that’s worth quoting”

I don’t think I’ve ever said something worth quoting, at least, nothing I can recall, but it reminded me of something a colleague said about me.

I had to make a phone call to give a client some bad news. On a bad-news scale, it was nothing drastic, but I was about to tell someone something they didn’t want to hear. After I’d hung up the phone my colleague said, “Wow you’re so good at that – shattering people’s dreams! You know just what to say!”

We laughed.

“Perhaps it’s my lame super power. ”

“You  should be called The Disillusionist!”

I suppose the nice word for it, is diplomacy. People have remarked before that I have the right words – I know what to say and how to say it. I’ve always been the mediator among friends, the messenger between colleagues and the one who steadies the boat.

I guess I’ll never know how many people who I’ve left with the wrong words but I always remember moments where I believe my words have helped people cope, no matter how obscurely.

nanopoblano2015darkA few years ago, a friend of mine lost a member of their family. She paced, trying to walk away from her tears and eye contact with the people offering to help carry her pain.
“Why?” she asked, “I don’t understand why awful things always seem to happen to good people.”

“No one talks about the bad people.” I said.

And she smiled, for a brief moment she smiled.