I have been “kidnapped”, or so it seems. let’s just say I have awoken in a new place,in a new home,you might say optimistically.It is a forest somewhere that I have never been. I have everything I need to make a home, then begin a plan to find out where I am and someone I can communicate with. First step-find water. Mark my way back to where I began, so I will at least have a “starting’ point. Hopefully the water will lead to civilization, where I can observe the people, the buildings, read signs, get some idea where I am. Where that first step leads me, who knows? My second step will have to consider what I have found out there.
Posts tagged daily prompt
Forest Primeval
Speed-Memories from Long Ago
“Summer breeze makes me feel fine, blowin’ through the jasmine in my mind.” Those words come from the song, “Summer Breeze’, written by Seals and Croft in 1972. I can’t help but smile when I hear the words of that song, even now. I was 16 in 1972. Everything seemed so good, so full of hope. Life, at that moment was simple, all of my dreams seemed possible.
I think of days at the local swimming pool, flirting with my boyfriend, shaking my long, curly hair at him, droplets of cold water running down his chest and me laughing as he tried to splash me in retaliation. That place is no longer there. It was a motel on the main road through our part of town. There were areas around it that were considered to be rather “wild”, so we felt cool hanging out there. Actually, the motel was owned by the parents of a good friend. We would see the curtain blowing in the breeze, just like the song said, but there was nothing romantic about it. Behind the curtain was the face of our friends mother looking out for us.
The song brings back memories from later years as well. The excitement of trips with friends to new and exciting places. Somehow, the words put a sense of magic into the air, whether I was looking out over the ocean or sitting on a mountainside watching the lights of Los Angeles glimmer like the stars that they belonged to. Even now, as I watch my grandchildren scream as they squirt each other with the swirls of cold water from a snake-like green water hose, I hear the words and smile…”Summer breeze makes me feel fine, flowing through the jasmine in my mind.”
Whats in a name?
I liked the idea put forth by Daily Prompt to say your name, describe what it means, how you got it how it fits you. I have always felt that it was a little bit unfair that our most personal thing-our name-is something someone else gives us. My father got my name-Brenda-off of an insurance form. He had been looking for names for his new child (back in the day, we didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl) and liked the name. It had just become popular in 1955. I don’t know anyone much older than me with my name. As with the name I gave one of my daughters, it seemed to take off after we adopetd it.
I have read “Brenda” means firebrand in Gaelic-which fits me perfectly. both my fiery temper and my genealogy. I think of my name sometimes when i am in a bad mood, an I think of the snake that says “Don’t tread on me.” I like that. Don’t mess with me, you never know what may be in store…. There are times that I have wished that my name had not become so popular-it is dated, for sure. Mostly Hispanic little girls are named Brenda now But that’s ok. So many names in the 50’s were dated-Debbie, Lynn, Linda, Susan, Sherry, Lisa ,Carol, and many more. I like my name. It fits me, it fits my time. All the Brenda’s I knew were tall with long brown hair, much like a trademark. I think I will keep it! Thanks, Dad.
Personal Space
Personal space is different in various places around the world. i have found that Americans and Eastern Europeans like a “personal Space” of nearly two feet, and will back up as if you are “in their face; if you get closer, even in a casual conversation, or upon an introduction to someone. In Hispanic cultures and Western European cultures, people stand much closer when speaking and are offended when we “get out of my face Americans” take a step back as they speak to us.
I have often wondered how “persona space becomes a habit among different cultures. Perhaps, we should look around and see what the locals are doing before we decided just where to stand!
This is response to a prompt on personal Space at the following link:
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/01/daily-prompt-personal-space/
Burnt
He struck the match and held it to the kindling underneath the oak logs he had cut last summer.
The fire blazed up, filling the room with a cozy warmth that he badly needed.
They had left that morning after a terrible fight-their first. Both of them had said things they didn’t really mean-things that hurt, that put their whole relationship in danger.
He dreaded her walking in the door as her car pulled up the driveway. What would she say? What would she do.
She walked in, quietly wiping a tear and smelled the smoky aroma of the fire. Quickly, as she walked into the house, she reached into her purse, grabbed the letter she had written at work and wadded it into a tight ball. As she walked into the living room, she turned and tossed it into the fireplace.
“What was that?”, he said. “Oh, nothing.” she whispered as she covered his lips with a passionate kiss.
beebeesworld 