tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76425889224027298162024-01-13T12:17:05.130-08:00Robin's NestOld Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.comBlogger2236125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-25787611029872912982021-09-11T22:14:00.003-07:002021-09-12T17:22:52.122-07:00Early morning light<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLpgr4c3HxSGfHR04SjGi-QUQBwaP8oTe9PgN-HKzOazv6iiKCsg5xgb2Mpu75mrWOMUczrk0I_0BoUoMdqGBzm7yqMu_iR6WO1wEaDU8pVg5j1m2GKqXAVO25c41ucNnZHQS9ON46cvz//" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="498" data-original-width="498" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLpgr4c3HxSGfHR04SjGi-QUQBwaP8oTe9PgN-HKzOazv6iiKCsg5xgb2Mpu75mrWOMUczrk0I_0BoUoMdqGBzm7yqMu_iR6WO1wEaDU8pVg5j1m2GKqXAVO25c41ucNnZHQS9ON46cvz/w320-h320/image.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">The sun's early morning light breaks through the bedroom window</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">And brightens the dim room where I wake from my sleep</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">Her own pictures on the walls now start grinning at me</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">Art was my wifes greatest hobby while I just love soccer</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">But now I have lost her and for the passion for that game too</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">For I have to naviga</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px;">t</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px;">e my life alone and am sad</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">I tend to delay even the smallest of tasks these days</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">Detouring and mumbling to myself "That job can wait"</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400;">It's clear I should do somethingbut what I just don't know</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">Clearly she did the leading as most good wives tend to do</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">So my life was a wreck until I found a note from her</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">Hidden in her bedside drawer with my name on it </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-33264213781690943762021-08-14T21:03:00.378-07:002021-08-14T22:24:47.217-07:00I enjoy my food<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJhB71Wk22rTy0lb8ls-1kb8bwMMVwH-L1_XJEv4s1Gbt-TdYzf-t7aTnLOnCFAYZ1MZvgEfTuhX8lxr23YD-velAf9WECQmPnyLHX1-5X_NNjide-nirUI9h2HoUGlAldSRudNHYOJp30/s960/man-5083577_960_720.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJhB71Wk22rTy0lb8ls-1kb8bwMMVwH-L1_XJEv4s1Gbt-TdYzf-t7aTnLOnCFAYZ1MZvgEfTuhX8lxr23YD-velAf9WECQmPnyLHX1-5X_NNjide-nirUI9h2HoUGlAldSRudNHYOJp30/w400-h266/man-5083577_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I am going round the bend. My head now aches more and more. So I leave my nest to visit the doctor at his practice. I read the paper while I wait. I'm not keen on medicines or needles just to say for that matter. I read my paper waiting until I am now called in. Just expecting a quick check "So what's the problem?' she asks as she rolls up my shirt sleeve. I feel her hands touch my flesh. She takes my blood pressure then pops thermometer in my mouth. Then pats her hammer on my knee...jJust to see my reaction. Then writes down all the figures. She says "That all looks okay. So what is you problem then? So I list all my ailments. She nods and then says"Simple!" "You have barely enough exercise" She was touching my waist. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Humbly I knew currently</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That I do enjoy my food</span></div><p><br /></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-25498863343697970332021-08-07T23:06:00.002-07:002021-08-08T04:41:06.095-07:00Shame<p><br /></p><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ck_ONMtsLX53CdMgpeZnoA3UOkR7SltmQndzZpCNKnblotYPP2EWaE0ZqxwUGNx2PMonAK7zacZzp-mMR-EE7y20mDdSL1H61JwHWxX2jnF4GtpEYCJxjdeAkC3CxjIHgeUmZsN6BPcB//" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="730" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ck_ONMtsLX53CdMgpeZnoA3UOkR7SltmQndzZpCNKnblotYPP2EWaE0ZqxwUGNx2PMonAK7zacZzp-mMR-EE7y20mDdSL1H61JwHWxX2jnF4GtpEYCJxjdeAkC3CxjIHgeUmZsN6BPcB/w400-h138/image.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /></div></div></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">In nineteen sixtyseven</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">As a new Australian<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">An immigrant no less<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Registered to vote<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">I was now entitled<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">To say whether<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">The Aboriginal people<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Of this great land<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">B</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span lang="EN-AU">e</span>en here for about<br />Forty thousand years<br />Should be given the vote!<br />Was I proud?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Whiteys came scarcely<br />Two hundred years ago<br />“Terra Nullis”</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> they said</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Empty that is except for<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">A culture older than theirs<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Art telling their history<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Stories of their beliefs<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">A strict rule of law<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Education for the young<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Dancing to inspire<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">Songs to weep over<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;">I was ashamed</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-80200103493524670292021-08-06T23:24:00.006-07:002021-08-07T00:30:33.011-07:00Adelaide<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fqhKcHRTdFZngXTq9cR2c4y4zMwu1ah616asTP6dmT5VSxriCz7XzKjvnhb3zBUu7EfoLi1z9frjpPTzSw0QXHQcdUxEyxBlpl0oQ_zepQCbIEjOk1O7fAgm32wTSNJxE-gZhVjTv9fw/s300/images+%252842%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fqhKcHRTdFZngXTq9cR2c4y4zMwu1ah616asTP6dmT5VSxriCz7XzKjvnhb3zBUu7EfoLi1z9frjpPTzSw0QXHQcdUxEyxBlpl0oQ_zepQCbIEjOk1O7fAgm32wTSNJxE-gZhVjTv9fw/w400-h224/images+%252842%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> My heart beats for the city I love</span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"> Where history mirrors days gone by </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> And birds fly overhead high in the sky E</span><span style="font-family: arial;">yeing shoppers in mall down below </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> And Uni students eyes are all aglow </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> Nearby parks, trees and squares all abound</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> While tramcars still trundle round and round </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> T</span><span style="font-family: arial;">he streets are straight they do not amuse</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> Not like cities with roads that confuse</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> Never was a city with such sound</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> With a park surrounding all around</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> Close easy walk inside to zoo there</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> I could list many features to share</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> Whether man or woman it's a treat</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;">So I'll not disurb you anymore</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> Adelaide inside you will adore </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></div></div>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-33258210345691791322021-07-31T22:46:00.001-07:002021-07-31T22:46:53.062-07:00My Masseur<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHY8Q02qO1nmCcN9Eli_Sfnxwq5XqlXaC1RRWwQ2N9TgBUOLkrmyXN7y6yK59GLyKi-l4As8yLelH2yrjAzeiplShyVS5KF0-tVUEShhFgixf1IhXnvKnpmFeVEJf6AD_UfNpAV601NSx/s279/images+%252841%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="181" data-original-width="279" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHY8Q02qO1nmCcN9Eli_Sfnxwq5XqlXaC1RRWwQ2N9TgBUOLkrmyXN7y6yK59GLyKi-l4As8yLelH2yrjAzeiplShyVS5KF0-tVUEShhFgixf1IhXnvKnpmFeVEJf6AD_UfNpAV601NSx/w400-h260/images+%252841%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">A few years ago I used to visit a masseaur on my doctor's recommendation. My slow deterioration of age, fitness and aches had gotme into this situationso I agreed a little TLC would be appropriate. Tis could not have been further from the truth of course. It is one thing to have your body soothed into a relaxed state but quite another to have those aches and pains identified and kneaded into submission by a skilled practitioner. Parting with a few dollars to satisfy the sadistic pleasure of a torturer was a bitter pill to swallow except that for the rest of that day the treatment received I felt reall well. My body felt cleansed of a myiad ills, albeit temporary but it did give me hope my body would not crumble around me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My return visits were not regular at first but with such well being It encouraged me to attend on a monthly basis. Soon the manipulation, the music in the background and our two way conversations about everything under the sun soon made the visits quite a delight.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I say two way conversations; thisd is not quite truw. While the masseur was a young woman half my age chatted abot many things my own utterances were few. My response may be an admonition at her finding a reclacitrant tendon or a chat about our families, pets or holidays! If she was silent I too might drift off as I melted under her care</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This of course was my undoing. Recieving treatment I was stripped down to my jocks and not a stitch more. Can you imagine my chagrin when on the massage table been lowered she tapped my shoulder to say "You can get up now", finding that she had put my socks on me! I gasped "I forgot to take my socks off".</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">At this she replied with a laugh "No! You were fast asleep I put them on for you." It is one thing to have a masseur, quite another to have a dresser too!"</span></p><p><i style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">339 words</i></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-49069152505038911742021-07-30T18:58:00.000-07:002021-07-30T18:58:46.267-07:00The taxi journey<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttz30U0dAzUpA6kYuokEXBp19JxkyiPizOnW3IaFuhKIG_cezdYDrwgSpNA_TlvOmLWVRkA3RGhUU83pmy8b_249vWEJj13ZBMH0cvUsjIpkdiNRDmGNdB_oHy5864iVtUtSbXSdIoFJ9/s411/london-2665616__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="411" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttz30U0dAzUpA6kYuokEXBp19JxkyiPizOnW3IaFuhKIG_cezdYDrwgSpNA_TlvOmLWVRkA3RGhUU83pmy8b_249vWEJj13ZBMH0cvUsjIpkdiNRDmGNdB_oHy5864iVtUtSbXSdIoFJ9/w400-h331/london-2665616__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So lonely and sad I returned home</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My wife had died in hospital</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Leaving me to live a sad life</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So I wiped the motes from my eyes</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Feeling empty, frail and helpless</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The taxi journey seemed endless</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I spoke little on the ride back</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My mind drifted back years ago</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Both then young living a wild life</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Then settling down with family</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Seeking the days of happiness</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The taxi driver delivered me home</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I entered now our empty house</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I choked with sorrow by myself</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Then I lit a candle just for her</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo found at www.pixabay.com</i></span></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-90691163354875824762021-07-28T18:49:00.002-07:002021-07-29T04:52:24.757-07:00My first real girlfriend<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_6q3taKxStPEg3drWLiYsQzUUWxSXNTAoo5Jv8tQxei4FS-BkiV9AAkNuG22m8w0uawWlAGsjwRruil2nY8eED3i6ysN4v0mm2LkVNGgpUUPezqvhbSR0upxTXGR1xbB6yCn2pWRgwgQ/s285/download+%252814%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="285" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_6q3taKxStPEg3drWLiYsQzUUWxSXNTAoo5Jv8tQxei4FS-BkiV9AAkNuG22m8w0uawWlAGsjwRruil2nY8eED3i6ysN4v0mm2LkVNGgpUUPezqvhbSR0upxTXGR1xbB6yCn2pWRgwgQ/w400-h248/download+%252814%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">In my last year at school there were times when we had freedom to study, play tennis or just use the library to write our essays. I then I found I was not the only one there but Joan, a very attractive who would also be there doing the same. So we chose that time to to chat in the library or in summer play tennis. She was very good at the game but that worried me little as I was more interested in dating her.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">When school was over I often found her walking home and found she only lived a short walk from our house. Before long I was invited to meet her mother and if I stayed longer I'd meet her father too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">In summer time we also spent time walking to the town park where we'd find a secluded bench so we could kiss each other. I adored her and soon I was visiting her on weekends to and was invited to have meal with the family too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">As the school year progressed she said she needed to spend more time studying. I too was concerned as my exams were over and one of the schools governors had asked the headmaster if there was a student interested working in architecture. I was informed and took the job eagerly.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">We kept in touch for many months but she too managed to get a job...but in London,so our friendship was shattered. This sudden change was the end of our romance. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Fifty years later we met again on Facebook; both my wife and her husband had now died. I lived in Australia and she in Britain and we happily told of our lives far apart. Sadly just last year her daughter emailed me telling me she too had died.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>Image found at www.pinterest.com</i></span></div><div><br /></div>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-17530935819280167062021-07-24T00:11:00.010-07:002021-07-24T20:05:46.959-07:00Returning home<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDMbrFA1pU9jjgCoQPYy69CIE0DSQ2XsieUJXDGSRMRV_M47PCTjM0Ggsj_QO4GQAC83bas0P809x72PjPrbzyuKM8Mv9IkJGztr6YPiLXfxuelVz_wofbxwLBRvXVys8PqPsRzGMtlOK/s510/road-3356478__340.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="510" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDMbrFA1pU9jjgCoQPYy69CIE0DSQ2XsieUJXDGSRMRV_M47PCTjM0Ggsj_QO4GQAC83bas0P809x72PjPrbzyuKM8Mv9IkJGztr6YPiLXfxuelVz_wofbxwLBRvXVys8PqPsRzGMtlOK/w400-h266/road-3356478__340.webp" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I returned home from the city</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'd forgotten the beauty here</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">With the perfume of the farm fields</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That fragrant scent that called me there</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And sweet bloom of the wild flowers</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">With sight of birds over the woods</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And foxes sniffing round the roots</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I followed the path to the farm</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Word had it that all was not well</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Dad insisted that I come back</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Trusting I made this last journey</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To find that Ma was ill in bed</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">T'was an act I'll not forget</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Sadly she died holding my hand</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-52143146788957052362021-07-18T01:05:00.002-07:002021-07-18T01:05:18.909-07:00A walk in the park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjYYY_LdIvP0sVTfyILr3jgILR6DDpy3xqGtbUi5OH-79pvwXsGVfr_MFtlJk-Qm7TW9tknetDqPO2DVTdxO00lYfViMMMn73iYqwkDcG8oVv4nNzcD8kJufWdsPALd4Y34kCI0Ktdm2c/s275/download+%252813%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="275" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjYYY_LdIvP0sVTfyILr3jgILR6DDpy3xqGtbUi5OH-79pvwXsGVfr_MFtlJk-Qm7TW9tknetDqPO2DVTdxO00lYfViMMMn73iYqwkDcG8oVv4nNzcD8kJufWdsPALd4Y34kCI0Ktdm2c/w400-h268/download+%252813%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I often walk in the park. No, that is not true, I walk in the park and I sit down on a bench and I think and observe and feed the bird life with bread scraps.On most days I see the usual walkers and joggers, skateboarders and mothers with babies or toddlers. I don't wave or say hello to them or they to me as we are part of the park just like the seats; the gardens, the grass and the trees. Then there is Maisie. I am sure that is not her name but just one I have given her. She looks cross and holds a coat hanger in one hand and drags a trolley with the other.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The trolley is filled with bags half filled with bottles, cans and plastic containers each worth a few cents at the recycling depot. So we have little debris littering our streets, parks and waterways. It is just too valuable for Maisie and hundreds like her. An army of scavenger ants in Adelaide clearing the city and elsewhere.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As I sit Maisie approaches the bin near me and uses a coathanger for the treasures in the garbage. She is dressed for the task. Even her best friends wouldn't recognise her as she wears a hat that shields her face and protects her from the sun held on by a chiffon scarf.Her clothes would be rejected by opportunity shops and her shoes would probably fit me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">At first I would ignore her and she me. Then one day hiding behind her mask was a sweet face when her grimace relaxed. I saw a different Maisie as a young girl having her first kiss gazing in a boys eyes, then later holding a baby. So I got up and took a walk in the park </span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">356 words</span></p><p><br /></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-91782376888583597522021-07-17T20:51:00.003-07:002021-07-17T20:57:00.126-07:00The Violin<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLde9sO238wFF0iHxrFAMALhcaP_F6qSz9JmNsMQcoRMWpUJzo8aKoaus7lMn61bqA7JIVAaeS3wkz8k21Q-3ugqX1Ly_dOxjvqYlQN5lExmenntdIMdUgyPtg8cuMr64kHszNZzDfAz2/s960/sport-5253088_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNLde9sO238wFF0iHxrFAMALhcaP_F6qSz9JmNsMQcoRMWpUJzo8aKoaus7lMn61bqA7JIVAaeS3wkz8k21Q-3ugqX1Ly_dOxjvqYlQN5lExmenntdIMdUgyPtg8cuMr64kHszNZzDfAz2/w400-h266/sport-5253088_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Jane's mother wanted her to play the violin</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But Jane, eyes wide open, shook her head sadly</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Protesting it was not for her at all</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What with fingering frets and the lessons </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Bridges and strings keeping her from sport</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Imagining what awful sounds she would make</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Made her feel really bad in her belly</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">He mother now saw how broken she was</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Jane protested she was so good at sport</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Her voice husky and close to crying</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"It would ruin all my plans" eyes in tears</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Voice brittle she moaned, "I'm good at hockey"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-66877751195925900572021-07-10T21:52:00.001-07:002021-07-10T21:52:26.057-07:00Falling over<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKFjY3oi8EpYR0uaAeNZL37KI2n-h5AdKkYFowWLbQsRgTEI6I0ow6I_RLDK8URVZIUuHrq8BjBNoO-w82J1uh6kM8C-0v-CNDdsdbwfhd7-YBlYcRp3JwzX6SVB9x_FKB0W057JmvgVm/s800/senior-behind-wheeled-walker-snow-23292498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKFjY3oi8EpYR0uaAeNZL37KI2n-h5AdKkYFowWLbQsRgTEI6I0ow6I_RLDK8URVZIUuHrq8BjBNoO-w82J1uh6kM8C-0v-CNDdsdbwfhd7-YBlYcRp3JwzX6SVB9x_FKB0W057JmvgVm/w400-h300/senior-behind-wheeled-walker-snow-23292498.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I am awake again free to face the world</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Making an old mans mark...alive</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Bones aching but ready to trot</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Hoping not to fall or again</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Without doing doing any damage</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Hated hollering for help</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That's the the limit said my wife</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But she allowed me a walker</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To push on and sit when tired</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Didn't seem natural to me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But brave enough to try it out</span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-80538228955932256182021-07-09T21:07:00.012-07:002021-07-16T18:09:36.632-07:00Rastus and us at the beach (Chapter 8)<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-4FQ7CfhZW9yMlxSdUDaBNe3rCTyR4bwkNPQPbZxXQZB2kUUUcv9WTBFQ3Mj6PuxHD1NhOk4MvJxsSX-5hI7zosljt1bQtyONvsfdesSROfJdd5d_FFZ0bCfjTs_skLUB2GOzcB2jrUm/s613/beach-4497176__480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="613" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-4FQ7CfhZW9yMlxSdUDaBNe3rCTyR4bwkNPQPbZxXQZB2kUUUcv9WTBFQ3Mj6PuxHD1NhOk4MvJxsSX-5hI7zosljt1bQtyONvsfdesSROfJdd5d_FFZ0bCfjTs_skLUB2GOzcB2jrUm/w400-h314/beach-4497176__480.jpg" width="400" /></a></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">All the effort that Rastus and I had made to win Penny overshould have done us some good. Everything was fine, when she said she had a day off we would visit or she would come to us; a happy band of three in love. Penny loved Rastus , Rastus loved Penny and me and I loved both Penny and Rastus. Penny seemed uncertain about me though; she appeared to be holding something back. She guessed I had a previous relationship and worried that may repeat itself.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">She came down for a sleepover as she called it; not expecting to have much sleep together! What bliss it was to wake in the morning finding the person you loved curled up next to you. I'd kiss her tummy and she'd run her fingers through my hair then hug me tight. We were so bonded in love and inseperable. However it was clear she was not entirely happy; I must have been doing something wrong.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We three went down to the beach early Sunday morning. It was deserted and Penny slipped off her sandles and paddled at the edge of the water. Rastus checked out the scuttling crabs and any washed up fish. Penny walked along paddling in the cool watersinging some happy song but I couldn't make out the words. I was fossicking for perfect shells or smooth pebbles to take home and put on a shelf. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When I turned round Penny and Rastus had already turne round to sit by the dunes and have a rest. I called Rastus; he looked up but didn't come to me. My mind suddenly clicked. She had given herself to me but I hadn't done the same with her. Clearly she had been hurt and I hadn't realized. I started running up the beachand they looked up seeing me. I said "I'm sorry I've been blind to your pain as you have had a breakup like me."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Penny reached forward, gently touching my face, I said "I was near to losing you wasn't I?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"I'd not given up" she said, but you came close. Rastus said stick a lttle longer".</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>369 words</i></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-58203985833146550792021-07-07T03:59:00.000-07:002021-07-07T03:59:30.746-07:00Human arrogance is boiling over<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgHUaXpk1rdikzLBwbu0NzwPeC1aFWb5um7oTm5OlZn6CfofvBIj7SEcV3f-4NcBxsZ2Zjs1fAvVxsc6yRSYm5FMLfN5_ExmXxoH_rxtZmR0jATwnmSpbQAo6Z-310YYrsE5qERu05Deq/s513/highland-cow-1575005__340.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="513" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgHUaXpk1rdikzLBwbu0NzwPeC1aFWb5um7oTm5OlZn6CfofvBIj7SEcV3f-4NcBxsZ2Zjs1fAvVxsc6yRSYm5FMLfN5_ExmXxoH_rxtZmR0jATwnmSpbQAo6Z-310YYrsE5qERu05Deq/w400-h265/highland-cow-1575005__340.webp" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">This is humanities greatest fault</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Thinking they are then beyond assault </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">From those who are just worldly critters </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Who do</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> so much good which what matters</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">We slaughter an</span><span style="font-family: arial;">imals which taste good</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">As all we think is </span><span style="font-family: arial;">think is of eating food </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">T</span><span style="font-family: arial;">hen we like to see them all perform </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">In zoo or circus far from where born</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> Humans don't like each other either</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">When meeting colored folk we dither </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Or would prefer a war to be fought </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Such disasters always come to nought</span></div><p><br /></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-67768974783920816172021-07-02T04:27:00.001-07:002021-07-02T16:50:38.776-07:00Rastus and us at the market (Chapter 7)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0UOliLdGG4SjEafw1upWg5dZQ2Py0E4hnjWH77k-mbLa61Hbem71G6jA-WiJatmZxDBKmYgJq91rGb6pScSXpHg8pEYlFlpFhN0WQofnG8emMDNTD-rtCxKRceudU_-WwBOh-pt0kMU_6/s472/town-square-market-3567387__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="472" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0UOliLdGG4SjEafw1upWg5dZQ2Py0E4hnjWH77k-mbLa61Hbem71G6jA-WiJatmZxDBKmYgJq91rGb6pScSXpHg8pEYlFlpFhN0WQofnG8emMDNTD-rtCxKRceudU_-WwBOh-pt0kMU_6/w400-h289/town-square-market-3567387__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Strangely Penny was up before me; she was standing by the window. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">"Come back to bed" I said.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">"I daren't, I want you so much" she stated simply. "I'll get a cup of tea."</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">We
were up and taking Rastus in his walk through the park quite early and after
breakfast went into <st1:place w:st="on">Stirling</st1:place> township where
there was a Sunday market with flags and bunting waving, the call of the
vendors selling their wares and of course the inevitable smell of a barbecued
meat and onions filling the air. Rastus behaved himself quite well in the crowd
probably more concerned that the barbecued sausages would be on the menu. We
needed nothing but to be with one another but I dallied at a bookstall and I
found a couple of Leigh Childs novels for Penny. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I
asked her how she came to read him. Her response was unusual.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“My
days are spent in a rigid environment of hospital discipline and with sick and
frightened people. I find that I can enter an escapist world in his books that
others might with fantasy or gaming.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I
nod</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">ded an agreement; holding on to her hand which I felt was now mine.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">So I then said, “I can
remember a bookshop owner in the city telling me a similar story where a lawyer
dealing with the court system, crime and criminals all day long would escape with
“Mills and Boon” light romance to get it out of her system.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">We
finally found a seat, a few yards from the busy market and I said simply “I am
so glad I found you” and leaned over and kissed her tenderly as the world
passed us by while Rastus tried to decide whose knees he should put his head
on. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">We
were a happy band of three tied together by love. Penny loved
Rastus. Rastus loved Penny and me. I loved both Penny and Rastus. But the
relationship between Penny and me was a little odd. She was funny, warm and so lovable…but I could sense she was holding something back. She
had guessed that I was recovering from a previous
engagement from which I had emerged but with a few thorns for my troubles. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><i>367 words</i></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-73816312928319535712021-07-01T18:37:00.008-07:002021-07-02T04:53:03.421-07:00The pond in my garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEaNURD13UYT2qzDNCWj87HodphoAKxpZV0lvVK2mLRaxzQ0SL6uWyn_dKEoh99UxJ5Oj1V_j5wd_DjJY4CpunZqqu4kMElDPlTUEcPSyo1YWcgv_G4OaCshjmeW3uu5K-A_rLX0URs3b9/s960/water-lilies-1540496_960_720.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="960" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEaNURD13UYT2qzDNCWj87HodphoAKxpZV0lvVK2mLRaxzQ0SL6uWyn_dKEoh99UxJ5Oj1V_j5wd_DjJY4CpunZqqu4kMElDPlTUEcPSyo1YWcgv_G4OaCshjmeW3uu5K-A_rLX0URs3b9/w400-h223/water-lilies-1540496_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I loved the pond in my garden</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Lotus flowers beamed up at me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">At night they snuggled down in bed</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Just like my lovely wife and me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Little fish were swmming there too</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In the water safe in the shade</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We could see it from the window</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Our dog was pleased that it was there</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">He often lapped at the water</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Wife said his job was to test it</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And warn of the floating debris</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My memory recalls the sadness</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The awful day my dear wife died</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I held her cold hands and her wrists</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This made me want to leave the house</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For it spoke only of my wife</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Who no more would sit on my lap</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>Illustration from www.pixabay.com</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-90328705702743232842021-06-30T04:01:00.018-07:002021-06-30T17:11:55.100-07:00Writing something<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuMlGwdNs77sh4I4DXjLDDRzvLfNu1VIcaXOGLQkC1hxkFFWjSRPVhFRJcaIDKDWwRwfJ29eydXsqM8Z96MOdpntvMTr9QnpGtR7iyOkvDfBTl45ZhmDr9y-tzLPoUf6paJtYY0ucZKGS/s510/man-2562325__340.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="510" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuMlGwdNs77sh4I4DXjLDDRzvLfNu1VIcaXOGLQkC1hxkFFWjSRPVhFRJcaIDKDWwRwfJ29eydXsqM8Z96MOdpntvMTr9QnpGtR7iyOkvDfBTl45ZhmDr9y-tzLPoUf6paJtYY0ucZKGS/w400-h266/man-2562325__340.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I must confess I rarely fail to write something to post to each prompt. Mind you I am old and a lot had happened over the last eighty five years. However I find it important to think of something to write down which may be true or otherwise but my brain needs to say something just to be satisfied that I was here and telling the world all about it. The best part is that I may in fact have done or experienced something worthwhile which needs remembering. Being a writer I can tell the truth or be quite inventive in what I would like to say.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Each day is a joy</span><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> Full of possibilities</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> And of memories</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span><i><br /></i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span><i>Illustration from www.pixabay.com</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-13859984438312435902021-06-24T23:31:00.008-07:002021-06-24T23:50:32.209-07:00Sorrow alone<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5GbSDRBiG5yZEhqERCdlezztKGOFs7vld_dX6q1BpvuLLx5kuTQcCDYJ2RvF5AAMSs-cdmrFebCLdmgO1Gfot2MPyZfbooVkw_wn3g5v07euQvMfgKZGs_0jj6CWIDBsfXfQjYw3h4Gv/s259/images+%252840%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5GbSDRBiG5yZEhqERCdlezztKGOFs7vld_dX6q1BpvuLLx5kuTQcCDYJ2RvF5AAMSs-cdmrFebCLdmgO1Gfot2MPyZfbooVkw_wn3g5v07euQvMfgKZGs_0jj6CWIDBsfXfQjYw3h4Gv/w400-h300/images+%252840%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Dearest one I am writing to you again</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I've a heavy heart as I miss you so much</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Your box of ashes long buried in the ground</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'll not forget, for you are part of me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The blooms have died and been removed</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As I sit down and remember our love</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I hope you are listening as we talk</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As we would on our long country walks</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We held each others hands just to be one</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now I feel that pang of sorrow alone</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">If I could share my life with you again</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I will one day, we're made for each other</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So prepare to move over one day soon</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-90699454473740816942021-06-23T03:41:00.008-07:002021-06-25T23:23:26.395-07:00Rastus and I stay the night (Chapter 6)<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8Va50KAZQp94UcUlVwgVO54cptjLDZxOtgmV3p8y4y4EqoIVWRE_vVYRyyc9ANfiejbpGvTQ3U-MRM17I8JUlEsF8xsaTUzUNS0WXN3fDgnOVMGJX7HdpFJccZQ9_5rsaw4VRafDxSi-/s612/istockphoto-1147545061-612x612.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="612" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8Va50KAZQp94UcUlVwgVO54cptjLDZxOtgmV3p8y4y4EqoIVWRE_vVYRyyc9ANfiejbpGvTQ3U-MRM17I8JUlEsF8xsaTUzUNS0WXN3fDgnOVMGJX7HdpFJccZQ9_5rsaw4VRafDxSi-/w400-h266/istockphoto-1147545061-612x612.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I lied of course when I said we slept well the night we stayed with Penny. Rastus certainly did as he fell asleep and was flicking his paws or growled a woof or two as he guarded us from danger in his dreams or chased rats or cats perhaps.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For us though it was a beautiful time of discovery sharing Penny's bed for the first time. I was not prepared or confident in this. We joked about what nighties of hers I could wear. Then I had a shower and when I returned to the bedroom draped in a towel I saw she had chosen the side nearest the window with her clock radio where she always slept. She had put a chocolate Caramello on my pillow for me; just as though we were in a hotel.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">She was looking at me all the time then turned over and put out the light. I reached over and held her hand and she with her other hand and touched my face as I breathed in her scent as she did so. I let go of her hand and lightly touched her naked body with my fingers like an explorer discovering a new tropical island.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"You are so beautiful Penny" I said as my fingers gave her a satisfying feeling with her murmuring approval. She in her turn was not passive as she too checked out this intruder in her bed, running her fingers through my hair and then leaned over placing her head on my chest to listen to my heartbeat.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Penny, we mustn't make love...I am not prepared" I said. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"I didn't expect you to be. I would have been a bit peeved if you assumed I was a pushover. The more I know about you, the more I like you."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We both kissed and explored each other and delighted having been so close together.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Strangely she was up next morning looking out the window without a stitch on.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Come back to bed" I said and she did. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>Word count 341</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-67063018820224480832021-06-19T23:14:00.001-07:002021-06-19T23:14:14.860-07:00Nothing works<p> </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Rapyt2t75HzQtYI2Y39y23KmTRivmksG4rSYvM4neNtT7nBT14Ibibsl9XxR5gCxzXF37jRQzWdgW41alZt0TaAi1fgHCWPcmTxvpvFywclWZz7gMH0AwYtHxywzX60_lvKQSf-Gnwzm/s275/images+%252839%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Rapyt2t75HzQtYI2Y39y23KmTRivmksG4rSYvM4neNtT7nBT14Ibibsl9XxR5gCxzXF37jRQzWdgW41alZt0TaAi1fgHCWPcmTxvpvFywclWZz7gMH0AwYtHxywzX60_lvKQSf-Gnwzm/w400-h266/images+%252839%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Nothing works, I can endure no longer</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My mother looks at me trying to help</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I have reached the end of my tether</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My girlfriend thinks we ought to split up</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I am beyond hurt, it is hard to take</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I felt I'd had a brutal stab in the back</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Let go for a walk son to get some fresh air"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Said my father getting upfrom his chair</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We walked up to the woods close by to us</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">By way of the green fields close to our home</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"It happened to me son, long ago" he said</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We headed into the trees not far away</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When we entered them we sat on a log</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Back then my girl did the same and it hurt</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We parted and both went separate ways</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I started work and then that girl phoned me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"I made a mistake" she said "I am sorry"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Thats OK" I said, better luck next time</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-9010590989900959122021-06-18T17:14:00.011-07:002021-06-18T17:30:48.772-07:00Rastus settles in (Chapter 5)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMiZ4IVYH3LW-d66vuLLsdgQCm5vhxeUgeZmjsKT6eS0FSk-O2vKR4ZxjX36wufbJft-Z095eB0IUpWDA5U-pV4mbYdt9cq8guxnJ8ZEutKNjYjDTG1qrQaRSfTfLJLa0eEqsoA-G9QfGo/s259/download+%252812%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMiZ4IVYH3LW-d66vuLLsdgQCm5vhxeUgeZmjsKT6eS0FSk-O2vKR4ZxjX36wufbJft-Z095eB0IUpWDA5U-pV4mbYdt9cq8guxnJ8ZEutKNjYjDTG1qrQaRSfTfLJLa0eEqsoA-G9QfGo/w400-h300/download+%252812%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Staying at Penny’s that weekend was a success. It was
certainly that way for Rastus; he settled in as though he was home and had
a contented look on his face. I hope I looked like that too, but Penny wasn’t quite so sure.</span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">How did we both get on?</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> V</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">ery well indeed. She was soft and beautiful and attentive and receptive
to my caressing. Rastus was happy laying at our feet. When I let him
out last thing at night for his final walk around the garden I said “Behave, no
chasing possums.” He returned a few minutes later reporting no sightings.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Penny
and I talked too. Discussing work and family and our childhood and were
very comfortable in each other’s company. However at one point at a break in
conversation she paused then came right out with it. “You have been hurt
haven’t you, did she dump you?”</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">"I would say I was jettisoned from a ship.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“I
often wondered what the difference was between flotsam and jetsam. So what is
flotsam?” Penny asked.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“Goods
lost from a ship accidentally," By this time I had returned to stroking
her feet gently and counting her toes.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“Five,
on each foot” she stated.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“Just
checking.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">At
bedtime she suggested I share her bed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“What
is the alternative?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“Floor
with Rastus, couch with a blanket; you can choose.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“I
have no PJ’s, toothbrush or night cream.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“I
bought a spare toothbrush, the rest you can share with me.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">We
all slept well that night. It must have been the wine. Goodness knows what
Rastus drank. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">We
went for another walk in the park early in the morning. It was so different at
that hour. There was a morning mist over the water on the lake and a mob
of kangaroos were drinking unconcerned. Luckily I had Rastus on the lead so we
steered away from them and took a circular route around the park watching the
birdlife in their chosen territory.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">When
we got back to Penny’s place I said to her “We will give it a try then, if that
is OK?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Penny
turned to Rastus saying “What do you reckon?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Rastus
looked at us both grinning at him and barked an affirmative.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Let’s
hope he keeps us together.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">360 words</span></i></span></p><br /><p></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-68707945877457671102021-06-12T22:04:00.000-07:002021-06-12T22:04:18.615-07:00Find myself alone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3j7CFYorQZNl8wSzJLcaJMQvBeNGwY_b7AyFyHYsoNvAXfFCU8O9p_lG1Z2R-aKBwnIZwQiIhiwQ-4-3DtUtBaMQXAwnkbTRDD3NWcnznvRIxA1Ho8A0gzuHY_w44hct19Ch5yQo5l-5/s225/images+%252838%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3j7CFYorQZNl8wSzJLcaJMQvBeNGwY_b7AyFyHYsoNvAXfFCU8O9p_lG1Z2R-aKBwnIZwQiIhiwQ-4-3DtUtBaMQXAwnkbTRDD3NWcnznvRIxA1Ho8A0gzuHY_w44hct19Ch5yQo5l-5/w320-h320/images+%252838%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I woke up to find myself alone</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In my nightmare cradling my pillow</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The beast in my brain playing with me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">For I felt my wife's thighs by my side</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">My warm hand touched her just to be sure</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But sleepi</span><span style="font-family: arial;">ng she still said not one word</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Lucky! She hared to be woken up at night</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Indignant said "Use the other bed"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Worst still would be for her to walk out</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And to use that bed all for herself </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To desert me, leaving me alone</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Stoney cold, losing togetherness</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And then waking up all by myself</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">...not a revelation that I need</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-13560518838899981612021-06-11T18:07:00.003-07:002021-06-12T22:59:57.090-07:00Rastus and me go up the hill (Chapter 4)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TAkafw3Egv323I84P-P2z7Rk_KnC_vNYUSKjT-LFxktA6EQwGnYx26gblw7Jb-FL4S0GcEC6kVRnRelmdAGp1nI5Lo23olYv5ryhWEWscMMXzsegatPGWpZ_quGyTOuAldfDbh1mxzxg/s510/dog-in-bluebells-5038851__340.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="510" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TAkafw3Egv323I84P-P2z7Rk_KnC_vNYUSKjT-LFxktA6EQwGnYx26gblw7Jb-FL4S0GcEC6kVRnRelmdAGp1nI5Lo23olYv5ryhWEWscMMXzsegatPGWpZ_quGyTOuAldfDbh1mxzxg/w400-h266/dog-in-bluebells-5038851__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">After
my old neighbor went to hospital I looked after Rastus . Sadly she did not
return home so I transferred his ownership and licence with all his chattels to
me and her family agreed.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Rastus
tended to love anyone or perhaps it was the smell of food on them. Already he
considered my house his and had happily settled in.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I
phoned Penny who now lived up the hill a few kilometres outside the city and
told her of the change.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“Why
don’t you both come up to see me this week end as I’m free?. We can have bone
stew” she said laughing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">So
on Saturday we drove up the hill through leafy suburbs and winding roads with
new smells for Rastus to enjoy. His head was out the window and grinning with
his tongue out when we went through the hills villages.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">We
found Penny’s place and drove in her driveway. She came out straight away and
once inside I offered her a present which was a pink silk scarf that had once been
my mother's. Penny was stunned, “It’s so beautiful” she said with moist eyes, “I
love pink”. Then put it on and looked in a mirror smiling </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Rastus
by this time had got bored so laid down at our feet. Penny said “Up you get
Rastus we are going for a walk, there’s a park close by.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Unlike
a city park this one had native gum trees, scrubland and winding trails and a
freshwater lake. He chased imaginary animals yet missed a koala looking down at
him. After we’d worn him out we made our way home with Penny and me holding
hands and her holding his lead.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Back
at her place, Rastus drank a whole bowl of water and settled down for a nap.”Would
you like a drink? she asked “I have a Pinot Grigio in the fridge.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“Well
not if I’m driving, perhaps one glass.”</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Penny then said “You can always stay the night”, looking in my eyes.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I
smiled, then nodded whilst Rastus snored in his sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">347
words</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-60497186132794532212021-06-09T00:16:00.001-07:002021-06-09T00:18:00.141-07:00Those years I regret<p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Looking back I really hate myself</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That adventurous young teen</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That explored the woods and fields</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Hoping to find butterlies</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">To take them home, pinning them</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In a box to display the all to see</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Getting lists of lists of those rare ones</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">That might be found in the woods</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Or skimming over the ponds or streams</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Just a short distant walk from home</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">They were of course beautiful</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But not so much when they were dead</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And now in my advanced years</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I very much enjoy seeing them fly</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Flitting over the garden flowers</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Tasting the many plants nectar</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But lasting little more that summer</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Before time is called for them</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As cool autumn says time is up</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And their offspring breed next year</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-64863992208168893012021-06-06T00:36:00.004-07:002021-06-06T00:36:56.612-07:00Clouds scudded overhead<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvB0KNQ4539NjVPmQFiHt3i8mvUzJx-BMKk5-qV3d0SaHPUoa9uUmV4IB3U9_ByZBwJd7g3FyB3QzKJIXsOkREFjksbWeShWUMhXJ0Sva4gcyZPNY61isZzfGOLimMhr7McDdNN7Bin26j/s509/rainy-2680173__340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="509" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvB0KNQ4539NjVPmQFiHt3i8mvUzJx-BMKk5-qV3d0SaHPUoa9uUmV4IB3U9_ByZBwJd7g3FyB3QzKJIXsOkREFjksbWeShWUMhXJ0Sva4gcyZPNY61isZzfGOLimMhr7McDdNN7Bin26j/w400-h268/rainy-2680173__340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I looked out of the window</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I couldn't sleep this night</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The clouds scudded overhead</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The wind blowing them quietly</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Moon chose to not look down on me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I looked at alarm clock</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Too early to get up</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Frustrated, I stretched myself</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The ceiling fan hummed overhead</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I heard the sea far away</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I hat breaking my sleep</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Preferring break of dawn</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When the welcome bright gleam greets me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Sun rising over the treetops</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">A blackbird flew over the common</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><i>Illustration by www.pixabay.com</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-45561758806259983862021-06-05T21:17:00.000-07:002021-06-05T21:17:32.853-07:00Rastus, Penny and me (Chapter 3)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGQTiCt5kyamZwgKLP9O-g9tVBxDrd4vnQ-8bC6QsK1Vf3rU2hojXlkMokPLSq-wW0qlSr0J5oTXwe8s64bFE4GZpDlY0KRbhouXOHdfCdrONd9SDjnpL4V2wMSH5wD9YR0XKtthf4vgB/s340/bird-bath-662781__340.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="225" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGQTiCt5kyamZwgKLP9O-g9tVBxDrd4vnQ-8bC6QsK1Vf3rU2hojXlkMokPLSq-wW0qlSr0J5oTXwe8s64bFE4GZpDlY0KRbhouXOHdfCdrONd9SDjnpL4V2wMSH5wD9YR0XKtthf4vgB/w265-h400/bird-bath-662781__340.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Rastus
had his big snip some time ago. So he would encourage me to check out likely girls,
well that’s what I thought. In all probability he sniffed for treats. Now you
might think that all food for a dog was free. You are so wrong there. Dog were
fed as wages so meals at home were his due. He was quite adept at fetching
things like the local paper thrown over the front fence or chasing rats in the garden.
I don’t think there were many rats but he certainly made you think that. He’d
stub his nose against the back door to be let out, then run up the garden just
missing catching the sneaky rat. I wasn’t fooled. It was part of his act
showing how valuable he was and being paid in Schmackos.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I’ll
mention liver treats and warn pet owners to avoid these like the plague as they
smell awful. However, buying these for your pet will show that you love them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“Who
did Rastus live with now?” you ask. He belonged to the lady next door but there were
many times it was necessary to take him in when she was in hospital. So he treated
my home his too.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">Then what happened to the girl in the park? Some good and some bad. We did meet her
again a few times. The interaction was all between Rastus and her with a
condescending nod to me now and then. She told Rastus her name which was Penny,
then winked at me. She chatted about work, travel or her flat mates. Nothing, I
could use to get any closer to her, but it was a friendship without pressure.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">The
day came when she came up to us and started the conversation. “Sorry.” she
said. “I am leaving…transfer up the hill.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">I
saw the disappointment of Rastus’s face. Whether it was the loss of the free
food or the knees to place his head, I don’t know which. She turned to me, gave
me a kiss and her phone number</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">With
that Rastus gives out a moan of canine sorrow.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">“It’s
OK, Rastus” she said “You’re still my special boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">364 words</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Old Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.com12