weekly Writing Challenge – Other peoples shoes.

My mum wasn’t often right about things. As a teenager, because I am not very tall and wore 6 inch heels, she used to say, ‘You’ll regret that when you get older’. I think now, she spoke with experience! In common with a lot of older women, my feet are bad!

The ‘big shoes’ worn by the elderly, looking like aircraft carriers… They fasten with Velcro strip, that make a ripping noise when you open them but make it easier for the fumbling fingers to fasten.


It is such a contrast high heels v big shoes. Her young life v her old life. The highlight of her day, looking out of the window, seeing commuters rushing for their trains, seeing children on their way to  school schools, young mum’s going shopping. Morning rush over, its time for a cup of tea and turning the television on. She loves the daytime programmes, the presenters voices the only voices she hears on most days. The presenters and the programmes have become her family.

Lunchtime comes, she makes another drink, a cup-a-soup to go with her cheese sandwich, it has to be cheese, that is all that is in her fridge, until her daughter comes at the weekend to fill the fridge up again.

After her lunch, being warm and comfortable inside, she drifts into sleep. The T.V., still playing.

Noise of children coming home wakes her, she stirs herself to go to the window, that little girl down the street always waves, ‘she’s coming’, the child is dancing alongside her mother, they both wave, the old lady smiles and waves. The excitement over, its tea and biscuit time. There are not many biscuits left, she finds two broken halves.

After tea break, she eases off the bulky shoes, finds her slippers and nightwear, time for her shower. The ‘warm rain’ eases her stiff bones. Drying herself briskly is the only exercise in her day, pulling her nightgown over her head, then her dressing is tied round the old and bulky body. Her feet semi dried, do not slip easily into her slippers, making her huff and puff.

She heads into the kitchen to make her evening meal, her daughter has put ready meals in her freezer, today she selects chicken casserole with dumplings, while that goes round in the microwave, she makes some tea. She eats her meal as she watches the teatime News, its that nice Fiona Bruce reading it today, its not good news, it never is.

Her evening stretches before her, closing the curtains, she shuts out the night. Its ‘telly land time’. Nine o clock sees her making hot chocolate to make her sleepy. Bedtime, another day over.




Daily prompt – write in the present tense

My present, my today. My husband is ill, he has a throat infection, that is taking it’s time to go.

Every Wednesday in term time, I go to a Creative Writing Class. I thought today I may not be able to go, my husband seemed settled and sleeping, so off I went. This term we are looking at re-writing and editing work, today’s lesson was about proof reading and preparation for publication. We also did an Internet quiz on the subject! How is that for the here and now of today?

Home again, I prepared a light lunch, for me and my patient, who I was glad to see  was, freshly washed, dressed in proper clothes, as opposed P.J’s and dressing gown. Yippee, he ate his lunch, so must be feeling a little better.

Now, we are both on our computers, he checking his emails for anything needing urgent attention. Me, I have checked my  facebook  site, made contact with a couple of nieces, looked at my emails, currently typing up my daily prompt.

For the rest of the day, I have washing going round in the machine, which will have to be hung up. There is another ‘light meal’ to prepare and cook, not yet decided what we will eat….

It will be a quiet evening, watching T.V., a bit reading, a bit more computing before closing it down for the night. Then bed…. That’s another day over, the end of my ‘present day!’

Daily prompt, number 26.

My mum, always used to change the numbers of her age round  when she was 62, she changed it to be 26. This was something she did for as long as I can remember. I found it funny, it got ‘funny-ier’ the older she got.

There was a fatal snag in this, she got to the age of 88, there was nothing she could do with this number. 26th March 1999, she died peacefully in her sleep.

Daily Post, mirror, mirror

This is typical of me, writing up the prompt for the 22nd on the 27th January! I do ‘get round to everything’  – eventually.

One time when I looked into the the mirror, I used to see my father looking back at me – with more hair, of course. We were like two peas in a pod. Unfortunately I had his character too. Later as I grew older I began to look like my mother. She always had a little smile on her face, not one that showed her teeth. When I was a teenager I used to wonder ‘what’s she got to smile about’, it really bugged me. Now I am older, I know the value of a smile, it costs nothing but it can brighten someone else’s day.

Now that I am in my seventies, I look in the mirror and I see my Grandma looking back at me. She had short, straight grey hair, not of the pretty silver kind that my other grandma had, just boring grey. I loved and admired my Grandma, although a tiny bird like little woman, she was tough. Widowed very young, she brought up five children.

Even though I have looked into the mirror today, I see someone who has tried all my life to be my own person, painfully independent, making life hard for myself. Clothes, hair and money etc., mean little to me, as long as I am clean and comfortable, my body properly covered, that is my priority. I am quiet by nature, one of life’s listeners and observers. My horoscope is Cancer, which tells you a lot. I do have a hard shell, keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself. Like the crab, or a marshmallow, my centre is soft and sqidgey.

I have a husband of fifty four years, two grown up children and three grand children, I am immensely proud of them all, I hope they are proud of me. These are my greatest achievements.

Weekly writing challenge… just after breakfast.

I have had my bowl of porridge, in winter time its got to be porridge, you can feel it warming your chilled body. I am still wearing a nightdress, the central heating has done its morning ‘burst’ and now turned itself off.

As I look out of the living room window, it is a grey day, no blue shining through at all, forecasted to be a fine morning, but lunchtime onwards, increasingly wet lasting through the night, into tomorrow.

The bright spot, in my line of vision is a small bowl of planted up daffodils, bought cheaply at a large ‘do it yourself’ outlet. Considering they came in a ceramic lime green bowl, it was a bargain not to be missed. Largely in bud when bought, the warmth of our living room has encouraged them to burst into flower. They are very tiny, miniature daffodils, flowers so perfect, all attempting to turn their heads towards the window. Such a symbol of hope on a grey day, you have to smile at the pretty, dainty things.

Of course, they have ‘double value’, having had their flowering season indoors, they can be taken from their pot and planted out in the garden, so I will be able to enjoy them next year, and in years to come……

I cannot delay any longer, the day is moving on, time to shower and dress!

Zero to hero… Kindness

I am behind with my blogging!  Where does time go to? However, to today’s subject of kindness.

It is an aim of mine to be as kind as possible, whenever possible, to whoever possible. It may be as simple as a smile when passing someone. We are lucky here in West Yorkshire, people still speak to each other in the street, given half a chance they will launch into a full explanation of their state of health or, lack of employment prospects.It is nice to hear their stories, if it is an older person, you may be the only person they speak to that day.

Given the chance, I will do little ‘favours’ for people,.Something else I like to do, is give away books. This all began a few years ago when I became a ‘book giver’ for the first World Book Night – its coming up again in April this year – watch out for it. I had such fun giving away books, preferably to ‘non-readers’ to encourage them to read something. i have just carried it on.

We have a few charity shops in our village, they all sell books very cheaply, a lot of them are new too! I read them, then pass them on to others, asking them to do the same or, donate it back to a charity shop. My own book shelves are so full, i can’t keep all the books.

Zero to Hero. What’s in a name?

Just been reading thoughts of ‘The Importance of being Serbian’ blog. She was saying your blog name should give an idea of what your blogs contain.

So here goes, I am a proud Yorkshire woman, in case you don’t know, Yorkshire is God’s own county. Because of our high hills (The Pennines), we are born tough, and some say rough! Yorkshire is usually the butt of comic’s jokes. Its our accent, not the most musical in the world, we use ‘flat’ vowels, and the standard greeting is ‘ello luv’. Which as a young person it annoyed me, ‘why they didn’t speak properly?’ Now as an old lady, I realise if they mean what they say, ‘Hello, love’, it is rather nice. 

For actual scenery, there is so  much variety, from the Yorkshire Dales, the Plains of York, our beautiful coastlines. When the Tour de France starts here next summer, be prepared to see some of our countryside flashing past.

This is where I stop – its time to prepare our evening meal – it will not include the traditional Yorkshire pudding, I am doing an Oriental chicken stir fry, crammed full of every vegetable I can find!