Muse Wars 7: Beam Me Up Scotty

Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars continued with the 2nd challenge set by Tanya(me) @ Meaninless Meandering From a Madmother, and the 3rd by Kakka @ Menopausal Mumma, the 4th challenge by Lori @ Random Ramblings of a SAHM, the 5th challenge by Gemma @ sometimes you just need to vent., 6th challenge   @ Menopausal Mumma,  Challenge 7 by Lori @ Random Ramblings of a SAHM. whoever links first will pick challenge 8.

Are you up for it? Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in around 500 words (although this limit was removed by Melissa in the first challenge so it is merely a suggestion).

Tall,  and still as a statue, he knew his father would be proud. The third generation in this chosen occupation he took great pride in his heritage and his work. Not many nowadays followed the family calling. Not many nowadays were up for what they considered to be an archaic career choice. He knew a lot of his peers considered him strange for taking this little needed path, but he had never cared what others thought. Only his family, always his family. The light of respect that shone in his father and grandfather's eyes when he came home for those rare breaks was enough for him. He needed no more.


 A gentle ocean breeze blew past him, but he betrayed no movement. It was a glorious day, the kind that always made him that little bit homesick when he thought of long, sunny days and bright blue cloudless skies. Home where it never rained and each balmy day blended into another. Home where his family waited patiently for this tour of duty to end. Home where he could be himself.

Without a doubt he was almost ready to leave this lonely place, as beautiful as it was. There was only so much solitude he could take, and six years was a long time. He knew his replacement was being groomed, but it took time to train in this ancient century-old art. Just a little longer, he thought, just a little more patience. Only three more days until the new moon, then he would be free to depart.

He stood, stoic, solid, duty-bound as the sunny days blended into moonlit nights. He gathered all his data, collected any drops of information that came his way. At last it was time.

In the dark of a cloudy moonless dark night, the neighbourhood rumbled with roaring thunder. On the rocky outcrop his body shuddered and moaned, slowly coming to life after the six years anchored to the ground. In the distance another tall, solid identical intelligence agent waited to replace him. By morning no-one would even know he had been replaced, and he would return to the home planet with his wealth of earth data for the scientists to analyse this primitive planet with its lack of technology and soft-fleshed vulnerable inhabitants.

His family would welcome him, their bright lights flashing in emotion, as he settled back into his portal base on the edge of the purple sea of molten hydrogen. Where the four suns always shone day and night.

Things I'd Tell You Challenge 3 - The Muse Wars

The wind was picking up. He sat, unmoving, on the top of the small rise and allowed the memories to flow through him much as the summer breeze flew past. It had been a day like this they had met. Her golden tresses flying in the gusty warmth of the early eve breezes, he thought her a vision of youth, beauty and innocence. He would never forget her look of surprise when she realised she was not alone on the windswept hill. Her startled blue eyes had warmed as he haltingly apologised for interrupting her solitary dance amongst the weaving grass. It was the beginning.

They met on the hill, to sit and talk. He: dark, brooding, intense, older. She: light, joyous, gentle, youthful. Like two pieces of a jigsaw the very differences were what made them fit tightly, completely, with no fissures to be breached. The early golden days.

The wind grew stronger. It began to pull and tug at their embraces, it cast them in chills as the days grew shorter and colder. Their meetings were briefer, conversation stilted. The darkness inside him bloomed with sadness, her light dimmed, and shadows grew on those wet, windy winter days. Still they met, clinging to the hope that spring would bring back the warmth and defrost the friendship. Spring, a renewal of life, love. A rebirth.

The breeze became balmy, the days longer. The grasses danced and weaved once more, stretching towards the sun's heat. Their laughter rang over the field, but a little less joyous, a little more restrained. Winter had left some shadows and scars, the jigsaw did not fit as tightly, holes appeared.

The sun heated the hill and the grasses began to wilt in the hot temperatures. Tempers became fractuous, raised voices rang over the field. The gaps widened. Age became important, experience and wisdom became relevant. His darkness had now become hers.

The sun dipped below the hill where he sat alone twirling the gold band on his left hand. As light left the field, so did he. One backward, sorrow-filled glance conveyed his goodbye to the flattened grasses where they once sat, together. The autumn wind, dry, seeking, dusty, parted the sea of golden green as he climbed into his car to drive away one last time. He did not look back.

Through the weaving green her unseeing blue eyes gazed sightlessly upwards towards the sky. Her innocence stolen, her youth lost, her threats stilled. Her swelling stomach the only remaining sign of a love gone wrong.



Links:
Challenge 3 by Kakka
Original Challenge by Melissa
Challenge 2 by Me!

Envy is my Middle Name...

I have had a few requests for me to post this piece since I linked Judith's Room back in this post. I didn't realise at the time that you need to be a member to read the blogs. And so here is my entry for the blogging theme ENVY.

Envy is my Middle Name...

I want him. I want him so much my palms sweat at the mention of his name. I tingle in anticipation when I know he is meeting HER because I will see him once more. He is coming again tonight as if he cannot get enough of her. But she is dirty, tainted. The things she allows him to do are not pure and loving like that he would share with me. Oh, if only he could see me I know he would never cast a second glance her way, but she will never allow that. Life is so unfair. I am sure she is taunting me, flashing me limited glimpses of their unbridled lust. I have never known a man's touch, SHE would not permit it. I think I have been saving myself for him, he is special. I am sure he is THE ONE.

 

Was that the door? Is he here already? The night has passed so quickly as I dreamt of him, of us. Oh, he is here, I must see him, I must! This time she will not have him for he is mine! What is she doing? Why is she holding that knife? I must have spoken aloud, she has heard me, she knows I want him. No, you must not, not again - YOU always spoil it for me, ALWAYS! The blood, so much blood and his beautiful eyes finally meet mine, but her image is the last he has seen. Why does it always end so? Am I destined to never be free? Why me, why not HER? Why can she not have a turn trapped inside this shell, shoved aside, locked deep within unable to break free? Why does she always get the chance to be with them when all I can do is grab shattered glimpses of life and love. One day I will escape, and she will be trapped within this one body we share.

I want him. I really want him. This time I am positive he is THE ONE. He is coming tonight, desperate to taste her tainted lips...

Eat It All Out - or The Madmother Munching Musical

Ladies and gentlemen, before we begin tonight's presentation I give to you one of the greatest Aussie bands EVER:

Midnight Oil!

Yes, the Oils with "Read About It"

Remember the days? Play it right through, go on. Love that driving beat, the anger, the passion. True blue Oils. Shame he didn't stick to what he did best, but that's a whole other blog topic.

Now I can hear you all muttering away there:

(though your heads are still bobbing to the steady beat as the song replays again and again in your head),

what on earth does this have to do with the

Blog This Comfort Food Challenge?

Well, I'm about to tell you.

For this challenge I have decided to do something a little off centre. I could have explained in great detail the comfort foods I turn to for consolation when life throws me more curve balls than I can handle. The love affair with pizza after a bad day at work, the satisfying nights with crispy bacon and homemade chips cooked by a man who loved me and only wished to take away my sorrow about the men who didn't. I could. But I won't.

Instead I give to you, sung to the tune of Read About It

Oh, and you could always download the song, hit play

and keep it running in the background whilst you sing. I have!

Eat It All Out 

Pepperoni pizza, dripping cheese the feature

Cholesterol will hit ya when you’re older dear

Some like fine dining, others prefer wining

For beer I am pining till my order’s here

Comfort food is greasy, digestion is so easy

In the morning I’ll be queasy, hope the bathroom’s near

Bowel motions nasty, face will be pasty

Depression will be all gone and the head will clear

         and the head will clear

You better eat it all out, eat it all out

 Just another consolation binge, trying to forget him.

Cheeseburger men are fickle, kept throwing out the pickle

He sure knew how to tickle though he was so dumb

Just give me the large chips, you know some men are such pricks

Thank God I ended this bit while I am still young

Yes, I’ll have the bacon, is it crispy you’ll be makin’

My hunger I ain’t faking, crap I burnt my tongue

My tummy’s feeling nasty, need alka seltzer fast here

Depression soon forgotten and the headache's gone
                and the headache's gone

You better eat it all out, eat it all out

Food will always help you heal, come on put it all out

You better eat it all out, eat it all out

Fritters are a glorious meal, come on pig it all out

Pepperoni pizza, hot dripping cheese the feature

Cholesterol will hit ya when you’re older dear

 My stomachs really whining, others will be dining

For beer I am still pining, oh my order’s here

Ooooh Ooooh Ooooh Ooooooooohohoho
Ooooh Ooooh Ooooh Ooooooooohohoho

Ooooooooohohoho

December 15: Best Packaging #best09

 Did your headphones come in a sweet case? See a bottle of tea in another country that stood off the shelves?

Gwen Bell Best of 2009

Now, I am the consumate consumer, but I must admit it is the item which attracts me, not the packaging. Don't get me wrong, I do admire a pretty parcel, but then the urge to hold/use/caress the product itself takes over and I tear open the outside adornments to reach the prize inside. Never been a folder, always a scruncher/ripper/tearer. It is a part of the joy of a present, the split millisecond before the item appears and you wonder if the appeal it initially held for you remains (did I mention I am fickle too?). And that is whether it is a present you bought yourself, or something bestowed from another.

So, I guess I am going to be a boring as batcrap Mum, and say the best packaging has been the hand made paper my sons have made for my various gifts this year.

Yeah, yeah. Soppy Mum stuff not the usual Madmother wit and parry, but hey... I am allowed to be a little sentimental sometimes. Don't I?




















Though, shhhh.  This one did catch my eye...

December 2: Restaurant Moment #best09

Share the best restaurant experience you had this year. Who was there? What made it amazing? What taste stands out in your mind?

Gwen Bell #best09 Challenge

Hmm, what experience stands out for this one? As you can tell, our lives are not full of eating out or five star restaurants anymore. If this question was asked of me many years ago I would have had difficulty choosing which one experience to name. We lived in an upmarket part of Sydney, both professional career people, worked hard, played hard, ate well. We would eat out four nights from seven. Mainly local restaurants which others would travel miles to experience. Names such as Bilsons, Pruniers, Bistro Moncur, Bills and Claudes were our regular haunts. Before children. Before having a child with ASD. Before our lives changed.

Which now brings us back to 2009. In a way, all my culinary experiences prior to the one which comes to mind pale in significance. For our greatest achievement this year has been eating out at a decent restaurant with both our sons. I can hear you thinking, what is so special about that?

When even eating at the local McDonalds without an incident or meltdown is a rare event, believe me, having a successful evening at a restaurant is worthy of a grand commendation. It was only a local bistro style place, a step above the fast food/cafe outlets, and a different atmosphere to a pub. Our forays into other eateries had not been a grand sucess. Enjoyment minimised  or destroyed due to emotional outbursts or even hysteria. Smallest things triggering tears. Food going cold as one of us calmed our son then tag-teamed for the other to have their meal. And yet still we persevered.

Early this year we decided to give it another try. A little seafood restaurant at Sanctuary Cove overlooking the water. The meals, simple, well-cooked. Local fresh seafood, lightly seasoned, served with fries, tangy tartare sauce and fresh garden salad. Gloriously succulent prawns, hot from the kitchen needing no extra garnish. Crisp cold drinks to rinse our paletes.

But the best bit, the piece de resistance? Nearly twelve year old Boy 1, sitting calmly, eating carefully, gazing around absorbing the experience, then turning to us with wonder and saying:

"We have to mind our manners, this is a REAL restaurant. I might have to bring a girl here someday."

We certainly hope so sweetie, we certainly hope so.

Grilled Dory with a touch of lemon and seasoning will always make me smile now.