Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files.
Huge thanks to Cie who gave me this wonderful Sunday Selections image.
The meme was then continued by River at Drifting through life.
Sadly she has now stepped aside (though she will join us some weeks), and I have accepted the mantle.
The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent. Post
some
photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to me.
Clicking on any of the photos will make them embiggen.
I
usually run with a theme. This week I am returning to my interests/passions/obsession with the garden, birds and skyscapes. You will notice that in an economical move sometimes I combine one or more of these obsessions in the same photo.
I am not a minimalist in the garden (or anywhere else) and delight in mass plantings. Just the same I also notice and celebrate individual beauties.
The orchids have done very well this year. I hope that in time the purple stunner before this cymbidium will bloom with the same profusion.
The ixias have done well too - and for a change many of them are standing upright.
Our peruvian lilies or Alstroemeria are just coming into flower. Unlike many lilies they don't have a scent and don't assault delicate noses.
Now to skyscapes.
And then to visiting birds.
I adored watching this pair of corellas grooming each other. And to those that say birds/animals don't have emotions or show affection pffft is the politest thing I have to say to you.
Crimson rosellas are very low on the pecking order. If they wait until the other birds have finished the pickings are slim. So they circumvent the crowds at the feeders.
Thank you for all your words of sympathy about Jazz. He had a shocking day on Tuesday, which culminated with me (long story) inadvertently taking his medication. I should add that he didn't take mine and was given (and deigned to consume) replacement tablets. He has we hope turned the corner again.
I hope your weeks are filled with beauty and joy. And, for those that celebrate it Happy Halloween.
This
meme was started by Delores a long time ago. Computer issues led her
to bow out for a while. The meme was too much fun to let go, and now
Words for Wednesday is provided by a number of people and has become a
movable feast. Essentially
the aim is to encourage us to write. Each week we are given a choice
of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image. What we
do with those prompts is up to us: a short story, prose, a song, a
poem, or treating them with ignore... We can use some or all of the
prompts, and mixing and matching is encouraged.
Some
of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on
their own blog. I would really like it if as many people as possible
joined into this fun meme, which includes cheering on the other participants. If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.
This month the prompts will be here.
This week's prompts are common phrases, phrases with a link to food. Feel free to mix and match - or to add ones of your own.
He had a chip on his shoulder
Best thing since sliced bread
With a cherry on top
She wants to have her cake and eat it too
Everything but the kitchen sink
Bringing home the bacon
Have fun.
The prompts will be here again next month, but Margaret Adamson and her friends are providing them.
Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files.
Huge thanks to Cie who gave me this wonderful Sunday Selections image.
The meme was then continued by River at Drifting through life.
Sadly she has now stepped aside (though she will join us some weeks), and I have accepted the mantle.
The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent. Post
some
photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to me.
Clicking on any of the photos will make them embiggen.
I
usually run with a theme. This week has been a tad difficult on lots of fronts (not least because Jazz is running out of lives). We are now in lockdown lite so I demanded a roo fix. And of course the weather didn't co-operate. On the first day we could we headed down to the lake. Our spring rains has meant it is much greener than usual. I am so very glad we went.
This fallen, but still thriving tree provided the perfect spot to plant a photographer's bum - so the next two photos are taken from that vantage spot.
A close-up of the golden weeds which are spangling the grass.
Beauty, solace and heart balm - which I hope that all of you have close to hand as well.
The WEP Challenge is back. Huge thanks to the organisers and participants. A visit HERE
will give access to a range of talented (so very talented) and
different takes on the theme. I do hope you will visit others and
applaud them. Names will be added over the next couple of days and a
revisit is always worthwhile.
I have been absent from WEP for a while but have rejoined for this challenge. Due warning, my story is dark.
Un…
The farmhouse they rented was isolated.It was also both shabby and spartan. No phone, she had no transport and the nearest town was five
miles away.
He was away for work.Again.
He was due home in another ten days.
She was alone.Again.Still.
High summer, and outside it was blisteringly hot,
dry and cloudless.Water was at a
premium and the house tanks were all but dry.If she was to wash herself or her clothes she had to travel. She could
have walked into town and caught the train to do the washing and to see
friends.
She didn’t.
It was quiet at
home;baaing sheep, bird song and, twice
daily, a train chuffing through, its whistle echoing across the empty paddocks.
Her earworm was louder
and more intrusive than those sounds.
‘It's
already over in my head
It's been cloudy with a chance of anxiety
Can't keep out the demons inside of me
Maybe I'm just better off dead’
She hated the song, most of which had no
relevance to her or her situation.Just
the same ‘better off dead’ set the metronome to her days.Its regular hard hitting beat was always
there.Only the volume changed.Sometimes it was a murmur and at other times
a scream.
She was unEmployed, unHappy and unNecessary.
Oh hell, let’s not beat about the bush.She was me.
Drowning in and beaten down by that earworm I walked
into town and was lucky enough to get an immediate appointment to see a doctor.
Lucky?UnLucky.
He was dismissive.UnKind. UnHelpful.'Snap out of it!' was the best he could offer.When pushed he said he could refer me to a
psychologist where there was at least a three month waiting list.Cursing the wasted expenditure of money I didn’t
have and couldn’t spare I walked home again to an empty and unWelcoming house.
Maybe I'm just better off dead
Essential
tasks called.I fed the chooks, fed the
cats and faced my empty days. Continuing to exist like this was unAcceptable.
Maybe I'm just better off dead
A
solution was close to hand.Twice daily
(at midnight and at midday) the train ran through the bottom paddock.It came round a bend and if I lay down on the
tracks the driver would be unable to brake in time. A short walk (less than half a mile) and my
despair and pain would be over.The
midnight train would probably be best.
I
thought about it.I thought some
more.It would work.I felt for the train driver, but the trains ran over other animals quite frequently.
Timing.The animals at home needed my attention.It would be unFair if my solution caused them to suffer.Nine days left now.
Finding
a solution, a solution that meant I would no longer be a burden to myself or
anyone else was wonderful (the world would not miss me).Calming.Comforting. Freeing.My mind (despite that chant) was less despairing than it had been in many a long
dark day and night.I had a plan, I had
the means and I had a time frame.
Waiting
for the day and the hour I sat on the floor ripping pieces of paper into smaller and
smaller pieces.
… better off dead
… better off dead
Maybe I AM just better off dead
The
pile of confetti beside me grew.Night
followed day followed day followed night.I didn’t eat, I barely slept.The
animals were fed and watered.
Old
letters, half finished pieces of writing, newspapers and bills fed the
pile.There seemed to be no end to them,
as there was no end to my pain.
Maybe I'm just better off dead
Day eight.So close now.
… better off dead
Day nine.Less than 12 hours to endure.I
picked up the piles of confetti. Leaving things tidy was a must.
… better off dead
… better off dead
… better off dead
Then I heard a car pull into the driveway.
His car.
… better off dead
‘You are home early. ’
‘The job took less time than we expected so I
came straight home.What have you been
doing while I was away.’
‘Not a lot.’
For some reason I couldn’t sneak out and down to
the train tracks when he was home.
Fortunate?UnFortunate?
Action postponed but not cancelled.
I still, decades later, hear that siren
call.I can usually distract myself and shift my
focus now.And hope I always will, but cannot guarantee it.
… better off dead
… better off dead
… better off dead
Still there, but much quieter.
I suspect it is a part of the reason I volunteer
on the crisis line.Their circumstances, triggers and solutions may not be mine, but the pain and the despair are so very
familiar.
If they can live it, I can listen.Some people at least do not go unHeard.
***
Word Count: 830
tag # Sometimes no-one else will hear your screams.
Comment rather than Critique please. I suspect I would take critique personally.
