WINTER FOLLIES OF 2014 (MADNESS)

 A series of short stories......



Michigan Ice Crystals

Through My Eyes......

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Forget the Sochi Olympic Games because the cold, hard truth is...the real Olympic athletes this harsh winter are your neighbors, relatives, friends and often, complete strangers!!  Even, yourself!  That's right!  And, there isn't a judge, coach, teacher or {           }, you fill in the blank, who would dispute me on this one. 

You see, we are strapping on the boots and layering the clothes and covering our heads and hands with protective gear that's either knitted or crocheted by someone who loves us very much or machine constructed from the finest leather by the very best union workers.....direct from the factory assembly plant to your home...with love.  We are getting behind the 'wheel' of the family vehicle, school bus, delivery van and eighteen-wheeler in the hopes that we've been trained well and that our lifelong experiences (practice) will get us to the end of the program: Safe, sound and, hopefully, in one piece.

Yes, friends.....I'm talking about the Winter Follies of 2014! 

There's definitely some precision 'ice dancing' being executed as we meticulously make our way to the road to pick-up the mail these days.  The singles luge comes to mind (let's hope those snow pants are padded) if your mailbox is located at the bottom of a hill!  What goes down must go back up and that little hill can resemble a mountain when covered in ice.  And if you think there is safety in numbers my little winter ice pairs.....think again.  Often, when one slips on the ice, the other follows.  Especially when grasping each other's mitten for support! 

Just attempting to breathe, when temps plummet into minus zero degrees with wind chills far below that, can challenge even the youngest and healthiest non-smokers among us.  Should we pity the hold-outs still puffing away at times like this?  Consider yourselves warned pre-COPD patients: Imagine feeling helpless like this every day of the year for the rest of your shortened life?

The 'ultimate' competitors, however, can be found on our rural backroads, city streets and open highways as they sit in singular control over a minimum of two tons of steel, aluminum, plastic, glass and rubber.  Not to mention the precious human cargo that should be belted, strapped, harnessed and generally protected inside.  Think about your grave responsibility with this scenario, dear driver....!  Nothing makes you feel more helpless than losing total control of a situation and when your particular vehicle of choice decides to run the Freestyle Mogul course off the beaten track or becomes the world's largest snowboard on a Slopestyle run.....that's just not right.

Wow, I get sweating palms and heart palpitations just thinking about all of this!  It's dredging up old memories from my past encounters with several deer along the iced and snowy backroads near Eaton Rapids, Michigan, a few winters ago.  For some strange reason, my old, unreliable Dodge was a virtual 'deer magnet' that season with the snow falling wet and heavy on me as I trudged along on my forty minute drive home from work in the dark.  My slalom run consisted of swerving around the massive snow drifts in the road instead of harmless multi-colored poles.  The highlight of my drive came when three 'Bambi Mommas' speed skated in unison while suspended just above the hood of my car.  I am not exaggerating!!  Why, I must have looked like a "deer in the headlights" or something!  Anyway, what an adrenalin rush and the only damage was a smashed headlight.......maybe they were just mocking the terrified human who was glued to the steering wheel with eyes as round as saucers!

Just like the games in Sochi, these Winter 2014 competitions are generally captured on camera for private and commercial scrutiny via your 'smart phone' of choice.  Having access to such power 24/7 can be exhilarating for many of us.  For your viewing pleasure: If you can only imagine someone's surreal experience, it can be found and seen over and over again on You Tube until it goes viral....derived from virus: Something that poisons one's soul or mind ( according to The Free Dictionary). 

The one and, maybe, only time I hoped for video verification was when I tumbled down wet marble steps four and a half weeks ago and severely sprained my left ankle.  No, not a single patch of ice involved, just cold stone, water and worn down flip flops!  I'm taking baby steps here....literally, and 'they' say I can be let out into the wilds of Orlando very soon.  So, I've taken one for 'The Gipper' and didn't even have to travel to the tundra to do it.  I've probably written more in the past several weeks then ever before and I'm most grateful for that.... A genuine case of making lemonade from a basket of lemons.


Many strange and beautiful phenomenons of nature have been observed this Winter of 2014; not unlike the Olympic figure skaters that awe us with their seemingly impossible jumps, lifts and landings on ice wearing two sharp, narrow metal blades (basically, kitchen knives) on their feet.  Anyway, have you heard the Arctic was broken in January and its vortex shifted just enough to turn winter upside-down?  Well, something like that.  I do know that due to this shift, frigid cold temperatures and way too much snow has  brought much pain and misery to many people.  However, because of the extreme conditions, strange and beautiful sights have captured our attention like never before in our lifetime.  We have seen 'ice bubbles' floating along the shoreline of The Great Lakes and large floating islands of ice off the shores of Lake Michigan.....reminiscent of Arctic ice chunks that offer refuge to Polar bear and walrus.  Icebreaker ships plow through these lakes with the intent of keeping them clear of ice while allowing important shipping routes to remain open.


My daughter, Corinne, had recently dropped their six-year old off at school in Kalamazoo, Michigan.  Returning home with the two-year old twins snuggled in their car seats, she took advantage of an opportunity to toss a bag of soiled diapers in the trash container and then moved it out to the curb for pick-up later in the day.  Looking down where the container had been, she immediately pulled out her i-Phone and snapped away......  These pictures of the most bountiful, large and perfectly shaped ice crystals are the result of her labor and I share them with you....because she said I could!  Later she told me, "There really is beauty everywhere.  These were hiding under the garbage container."  Had she taken a video, we could have worked with You Tube on this one!  Okay, maybe not enough action or audio.

"It's just a crap shoot out there, boys!"  When you're dealing with Mother Nature and she is totally in control, you'd better follow her rules in order to survive.

According to Al Roker of NBC News, "We must think of the Polar vortex as a Polar hurricane," or, The Weather Channel refers to it as an arctic cyclone.  Whichever label you prefer, one thing is for certain.  After the Winter Follies of 2014, not one single participant north of the State of Florida can claim they tolerate the cold and snow all for the sake of the change of seasons because, at least, they do not have to live through hurricanes.  Well, sorry, Buckaroos, but you do!!

NOTE: This video is dedicated to the millions of people suffering through this horrific winter weather.  It will improve.  In the meantime, sing, dance, read and (always) Love....  As the Beatles sang: Here Comes The Sun!
http://youtu.be/Y6GNEEi7x4c

                     HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY.........!!

 

REBIRTH: PROLOGUE

Series of short stories....

Through My Eyes....

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



The woman sits at the breakfast nook sipping her second cup of coffee of the morning and stares out at the swimming pool which lies beyond the thick panes of glass of the cozy little room. The gentle rainfall is sifted through the screen enclosure and reminds her of confectioner's sugar being used to decorate baked sweets. Instantly her outdoor scene is illuminated by shafts of golden light as the cloud cover parts just enough to allow the glorious sun to take stage front and center. She's been down here long enough now to have witnessed this spectacular scene often and never takes for granted the heavenly merging of water and light that has certainly produced a Kodak moment up in the sky somewhere beyond the roofline of the neighboring houses.

Deftly unscrewing the cover of the carafe in front of her a half a turn, she proceeds to pour herself another cup of the steaming brew while subconsciously humming an old familiar tune. John Fogarty wants to know if she's ever seen the rain coming down on a sunny day? as she twists the cover closed once again. Chuckling to herself, she takes pride in the fact that the music produced in the '60's and '70's thrives today and has gratefully been passed down through the years to remain as popular as ever.

Often she thinks of herself in this same way; produced in the '50's yet thriving sixty-one years later and humming a CCR tune while sitting under an unseen Floridian rainbow. This makes her very happy and a smile slowly spreads across her smooth, unblemished face.

She lifts the coffee mug up towards her and sees the picture of two of her young grandchildren emblazoned in living color on its front.....a perfect gift for Mother's Day. A perfect gift because they live so far away now. Life has changed so much for her within the last twelve months or so, at least how she had come to perceive her life to be. She has never been afraid of change, at least not before last year, that is. For her, now, change has become unbearable at times. After all, she is living in a new, unstable world and lifestyle changes have blindsided her life so often lately.

Gently scooting away from the glass tabletop, the woman walks to the sink to rinse out her precious mug and proceeds to place it in the dishwasher. She knows that Life can be wonderful. Having five adorable grand babies to love proves that. Having an adoring, attentive husband proves that. Knowing that together they have raised two fantastic daughters, also proves how important her life has been for so many others who comfortably reside within it. Doesn't it? She asks herself why does she feel so sad most of the day? Is it normal to be able to smile while thinking of rainbows, music and beautiful babies and then do a one-eighty into the dumpster ten beats later? She thinks that it never use to be that way....... Now, it's a fact of her life.

She notes that the sun has conquered the best efforts of the morning drizzle and is quickly drying off the shell embedded pavers that surround the custom-shaped pool. She remembers how much fun it was to design their pool almost seven years ago and to implement texture and color into the design with good use of tiles, Pebble-Tech finishes and brass Fleur de Lis fountains adorning the backdrop she now associates with having her morning coffee. She remembers the many hours her husband slaved landscaping around the pool deck perimeter as a stone retaining wall was built to contain the earth around the structure because the elevation of the backyard rose some three feet above the level of the foundation of the house itself. At least they could retain the young live oak tree that lives to the right of the pool on a small hill. She's amazed at how that smallish tree now lords over pool, yard and house today.

Grandchildren, pets and armies of small lizards have marched repeatedly along the network of narrow stone paths they created to nurture her desire.....no, her need to assimilate a life in France, complete with a small bistro table and two small chairs glazed over with characteristic rust from living out among the elements for so long. The table is tucked behind the house and resides under the infamous oak tree. She can remember purchasing each one of the cobalt blue ceramic pots of various sizes and shapes that flank the paths offering a visual of deep color on the outside, as well as muted colors from the seasonal arrangements of plants and flowers growing from the aromatic soil within. Often her mantra is "nothing dies in Florida" and she has many resurrected plants to prove this theory considering her thumb has never taken on any known shade of the color green. She chuckles to herself whenever this theory is wishfully applied to humankind. "What an interesting world that would be" is an understatement.

Detecting movement out of the corner of her eye, she turns slightly to see three scrawny squirrels playing a game of tag along the tall fence behind the pool. If her dog wasn't napping under the window in their spare bedroom, he certainly would be, tail wagging wildly, begging her to be 'let out' beyond the massive sliding glass door that separates him from his chattering foe. She harbors animosity toward the critters herself recalling the damage to property they've inflicted by chewing through the plastic water lines of the solar panels up on the roof used to heat the pool. "Those damn rodents!," her husband would shout, secretly wishing a timely demise to each and every one of them. She thinks his Irish intensity is still both sexy and cute and remains a huge part of his charm after all of their years together.

For her, life has become a compilation of positives vs. negatives with her emotions running the gambit from very high to very low in a matter of minutes. And, she knows that because she voluntarily removed herself from working outside the parameter of her home office over eight years ago, whom she believed to be close friends and ex-working associates, blew away in time like crisp autumn leaves in a soft breeze.......like so many things in her life. No one to talk with or pour her heart out to when highs became lows and she needed them most; whenever her soul and spirit craved the understanding and sympathy of another female. She knows that she's always been told what a 'good listener' she is herself which has contributed greatly to her profession. More often than not, she became the listener during rare workday lunches or Saturday morning breakfasts at the airport Cracker Barrel where comfort food and a sympathetic ear were served-up as if both were a part of the restaurant's bulky, extensive menu. But these sessions dwindled and disappeared as 'life' got in the way and everyone navigated towards tiny pockets of family protectiveness as rough economic times began to threaten the security and innocent hopefulness associated with living from day to day. Old friendships just blew apart in the wind.

Taking her wandering thoughts with her, the woman navigates the short hallway that connects the main living area to her working office space. She finds their shaggy housemate is now warming the soft wool area rug that anchors the oversized oak desk and warm leather chair......her second home.......as he patiently awaits her routine arrival. She firmly believes that in the time it takes to drink three mugs of steaming hot coffee and throw her own "pity party" while doing it, she's more than ready to tackle, hmm, twenty-five to thirty solid pages this morning?! If she is lucky......

Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

Photo © 2014 Jacqueline E. Hughes

JAMES THURBER....WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

Series of short stories...

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

 Through My Eyes....

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Yesterday I had the privilege of watching the new release of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty starring Ben Stiller, Kristin Wiig and Sean Penn. Today I will be searching everywhere for the 1947 version with Danny Kaye and Virginia Mayo......you know, just for comparison/research!?!

I have long been a fan of Mr. James Grover Thurber: Cartoonist, author, journalist and playwright. A man with many hats but, he may be best known for his publication of cartoons and short stories in The New Yorker magazine in the 1930's. Along with his witty humor that highlighted the eccentricities of ordinary people, I would call him and his work the forerunners of today's Blogger and Blog sites and can only imagine the amount of wit and humor we have missed out on due to his placement in history! Can you imagine his productivity on a computer?

NBC's 1969 sitcom entitled My World and Welcome to It was based on stories and things that go bump in the night....by James Thurber. We were simply 'glued to the set' each week and could never get enough of the wild imagination of the main character, John Monroe (William Windom), and his interaction with wife, Ellen (Joan Hotchkis), and precocious daughter, Lydia (Lisa Gerritsen), who at ten was more interested in world and historical affairs than playing with toys.

To best illustrate and explain these events to his daughter, John relied on his imagination. Being a cartoonist, he often utilized the use of animation (based on Thurber cartoons) in his explanations. It was much like witnessing a public 'frontal lobotomy' for the sake of extracting the complete depth of John's imagination and placing it on the 'little screen' rather than to relieve any signs of depression. Although, this extraction often resulted in marked personality changes.

Twenty years later Ally McBeal's use of cartoon fantasies promoted a similar technique that helped her describe her co-workers and acquaintances. Loved that show, too! I'm a sucker for cartoons and lots of humor! Who will ever forget the dancing diapered baby, right?

Returning to Walter Mitty for just a moment....

As a writer, I have every reason in the world to identify with, encourage and promote 'Walter Mitty,' as well as enthusiastically remind all of us that without mental creative ability (imagination) in our lives, the world, as we know it, would be severely restricted, if not non-existent. The mind is the incubator for all things imagined and, ultimately, produced.....good or evil; right or wrong! It would be like taking away all adjectives from our spoken and written existence. Would it be, let's say, interesting to stand alone...black...white, with absolutely no color in between them? A world without the visual joy or colorful interpretation of Claude Monet's Water Lilies or the lack of descriptive character and flourish in the words utilized by a favorite author in his/her novel? A city lacking the indisputable distinguishing landmarks offered by its architecture that allow us to identify it via a single photograph. Cameras......no; a world without photography? Absolutely preposterous!

All of the above simply would not exist without our imagination!

Yes, unfortunately, the bad does mirror the good and we experience war, hunger, poverty, hate and the 'green eyed' monster called jealousy.

In the nearly two hours of immersing myself within scene after scene of Walter Mitty, I was able to temporarily forget about the negative and concentrate on the rugged and isolated beauty of both Greenland and Iceland. I followed Walter Mitty on water, land and in the air on his quest to find the most important piece of the puzzle; the one piece that, when inserted into its proper slot, would allow him to understand the true simplicity of his journey. His mission: To discover himself!  To rediscover Joy and Love!  To be Happy! 

He did.....and, along the way, Walter Mitty learned to love himself and with his newfound knowledge he was better able to understand his raisin d'être...the reason for his existence. Through the use of humor and a common goal, James Thurber's published short story, The Secret World of Walter Mitty, in The New Yorker so many years ago, spawned an amazing variety of entertainment for the masses with 'imagination' conducting the symphony that builds and builds to the crescendo of personal enlightenment!

Thurber, born in Columbus, Ohio in 1894, attended University at Ohio State.......a 'Buckeye.' I will try not to hold that against him! He lived and worked in Paris, France, as a freelance writer and reporter until he was hired by The New Yorker in 1927 as an editor upon the recommendation of E .B. White (of Charlotte's Web and Stuart Little fame). Thurber eventually concentrated on writing humorous short stories and his many cartoons and both he and White are credited with establishing The New Yorker's sophisticated tone. Both served on the staff of the magazine, according to The Early Shapers of The New Yorker, until Thurber resigned in 1933 but, he continued to contribute to the magazine.

I totally became a huge fan of The New Yorker while attending Michigan State University working at the Pesticide Research Center on a Work Study program. The science field has never been 'my thing' so please don't ask me how I secured that job other than I was a warm body who always showed-up for work. Anyway, within the freezing grip of a blustery winter term, the girls in the lab would take shelter in the woman's lounge for breaks. Stacked high on the table there I soon discovered nirvana in the form of weekly copies of The New Yorker that dated back several months and would keep me happy and occupied for hours. Dr. Zabik, the head of our department, would always find me harboring a copy or two by my side as I went about performing my daily lab duties.

To see one's byline and short story printed in The New Yorker meant that you had attained your goal and then far exceeded it in the same breath, if being a published author was your dream and desire. From that astronomical height, there would be few if any rejections of a future book deal. And, monetary reward and fame were imminent.

Oh, James Thurber, where are you now?

That starry-eyed young woman with ambition and hope still exists today.  Okay....the package is a bit crumpled and wrinkled now but, oh!, the life experience she's tucked away for future reference is absolutely amazing!  The places she's travelled to and the people she's met, gotten to know and still calls.....friend, speaks volumes.  Mr. Thurber....that young woman has done pretty well for herself in this world so far.  The great thing is, she knows her journey isn't even close to being completed.  Got a ways to go, for sure.  Got a few more mountains to climb and the trail up to their peaks is lined with adventure and discovery.  But, all-in-all, it's looking bright and shiny from where she stands right now......

If I could speak with you face-to-face, Mr. Thurber, I would thank you for so many things: Making us laugh, giving us hope, translating that hope into Joy and Love and, for challenging us every step of the way....making us stronger and more worthy.



And, I would thank you for that enormous stack of The New Yorker magazines that helped me discover, as a freshman in college, just who and what I wished to become one day.    





E. B. White and James Thurber on staff at The New Yorker

                                                                                                                                                                                                           

INNOCENCE

Brenna at Cocoa Beach

A series of short stories.....






Through My Eyes........

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I know, I keep saying it but, the mind truly is a wondrous thing! 

In my case, my thoughts can begin in Amsterdam touring the Van Gogh Museum and migrate to a golden loaf of zucchini bread made from scratch with zucchini grown in our garden, all in a few moments.  Writing for me is like securing a 'golden lasso' and rounding-up my ideas du jour and transposing them onto my iPad screen via my fingertips on the keyboard.  The strongest ideas are elicited by various triggers such as a current event, a conversation or a particular photograph I've taken with my trusty Canon EOS. 

Brenna, our oldest grandchild, spent two weeks with us in Florida last August and I vividly remember it being comfortably warm with a slight drizzle as we walked along the Atlantic shoreline at Cocoa Beach one afternoon.  Many of the pictures I took of her that day captured her beauty, her slight, six-year-old stature, the isolated feeling of being  so alone and small next to the shear vastness of the ocean.....  But, for me, the most prevalent force captured that day was totally defined by the reflection of  innocence that her healthy bloom of youth and purity spread across the glassy shoreline.  The super-sized umbrella harbored her future deep within its many folds: good with the bad, happiness mingled with the sad......but, Brenna's life, nonetheless.

In researching quotes on the subject of innocence, I happened by two that totally stood out from all the rest and enjoyed their minor 'hint of fame' based on the humor that existed within their creation.  Each quote was a direct attempt at influencing laughter and corresponded with the time and place allotted to it in history, allowing the reader to indulge a craving for feeling good and laughing a bit at the world around them.  This was often done in order to permit the audience a small diversion from sadness or grief.

The American poet, Frederic Ogden Nash, was well known for his "droll verse with its unconventional rhymes", that made him a best-known author of over five-hundred pieces of comic verse written between 1931 and 1972.  Much like the Dr. Seuss books written by Theodor Geisel in the 1950's and beloved by children all over the world, Ogden Nash had the propensity for crafting his own words whenever rhyming words failed to exist.  "A bit of talcum is always walcum" and "Parsley is gharsley!" are two examples.  However, he is probably best known for his "Reflections on Ice-Breaking" with his immortalized quote, "Candy is dandy but, liquor is quicker."

In learning several days ago that our Miss Brenna had lost her first 'baby tooth' and that it was snuggled in its own 'little pillow' safely beneath the large one that our granddaughter rests her pretty little head on each night, I recalled an obscure quote by Mr. Nash that I must have read years before.  It went, "Like the tongue that seeks the missing tooth, I yearned for my extracted youth." 

That made me think....

Was I just in time when taking those pictures on the beach?  Did I capture the innocent child within the child....not knowing then how fleeting that innocence would become, so near in the future?   I realize Mr. Nash is best known for his comic verse and I've chuckled at his quotable quotes a time or two....but, it's easy to see how losing that tiny symbol of 'babyhood' (a small, white tooth) becomes the initial vestige of what is to be!  Am I prepared for the inevitable, having been down that rocky road as a parent and already experienced first-hand how time refuses to stand still and allow us to just breathe every now and then?  Most importantly, do I have a choice?

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Innocence is like an umbrella: When once we've lost it, we must never hope to see it back again."  I am quoting a passage that was written for and printed in Punch Magazine, a publication that began in the early 1840's in the United Kingdom and derived its name from the glove-puppet, Mr. Punch, of the famous Punch and Judy Puppet Show that delighted and entertained many young children of that era.  The magazine became a staple of British drawing rooms because of its satirical and humorous intent while adopting a highly sophisticated manner with the absence of offensive material, according to Wikipedia.

 

 

 

I look at her picture and shout, "Please don't let go of that umbrella, Brenna Bean!  Hold on tight to it for now and, besides, it isn't the right time yet..."  This is truly her Age of Innocence (thank you, Edith Wharton) and to have her let go of that symbol only to have it wash away into the vast sea and be lost forever would break my heart. 

Again, I am fully aware of the inevitability of the progression of time...trust me, I look into the mirror each and every day!  The "Age of Innocence" lasts for such a minute period in our lives, a few short years that pass by us like Indy cars coming around the fourth corner and into the straightaway hitting maximum speeds!  The loss of innocence isn't about watching a few gray hairs appear on your head or coping with the advent of an AARP card sent to you for the first time in the mail.  Rather, it's realizing that along with the good in life, there will always be something bad out there, too, such as bullying.  It's dealing with a body shape or facial features that don't always meet the expectations and standards we set for ourselves.  And, it's understanding that sometimes even our BFF can be jealous or cruel but, we are able to forgive and move on.  It's being aware of the loving, giving person that resides within each and every one of us.

My guilty pleasure, as I grow into my maturity, is knowing that my daughters have learned many of life's lessons very well and are passing that knowledge on to their children, my grandchildren.  I am so proud of them. 

 

 

For now, my recommendations concerning future prudent actions, Darling Granddaughter, would be to deposit all current and future profits from 'lost baby teeth' into your savings.  Open that umbrella  most carefully and allow the features that will shape your future to be extricated slowly allowing you to make good decisions in your life.  When rash decisions are made, (and, they will be) learn to cope with their consequences.  Protect yourself as much as possible but, leave enough vulnerability to let the love inside you shine and make its way out into the world.  Always help others, whether they are aware of this need or not.  Remember that you are a precious individual who deserves to be loved as dearly as those you give your love to...

"Breathe.....don't try to be perfect."

 

 

Whether you choose to seek out youthful dreams as you begin to grow into your maturity or, after losing that umbrella into the enormous ocean,  you decide to never hope to see it back again...those decisions will always be yours to make.

For a little while longer, gaze into the vastness of the deep, blue sea and enjoy the sweet innocence of youth.

 

Always remember to Love........!

It Only Takes A Few Seconds (Ticks)

 A series of short stories.....





Peace and Serenity ~ County Cork in Ireland at Sunset

Through my eyes.........

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


We take so much for granted every day. An understatement, I know. In reality, everything that we come to believe is normal or standard in our lives can be totally changed......and, it only takes a few seconds!

For the fourth day now I sit here warming this particular cushion of our Family Room's leather couch feeling more exasperated and numb as the seconds tick away on the battery-operated wall clock that hangs high up on the wall. Tick..tick..tick... The seconds of my life categorized by a series of (truth be told) annoying second-spaced clicks that would normally go unnoticed. And they pretty much did the first few days of my confinement! By the third day, however, the mini-sounds were suggestions in the back of my mind; This morning....full blown rams of a pile-driver running on amphetamines! 

It all began last Friday when my husband called from the road and invited me out for dinner and a pleasant evening walk in downtown Winter Park. This beautiful little town is a treasure, filled with European-styled outdoor cafés, one-of-a-kind shops and a flower-filled park that boasts a grand gazebo that hosts many 'soft jazz' concerts under the stars all year long. I was delighted to say yes.

"First, I have to stop at the main office and pick-up some papers and a check for the new 'fountain feature' at the St. Petersburg job," he said. Absolutely, not a problem for me because merely looking at this newly completed office building that resembles a mini-Taj Mahal with its light gray-toned layers of stone and marble gives me a thrill. And, usually, I remain in the car the duration of his visit just for this reason.

This time.....well, I went inside.

New buildings come with new landscaping and that means extra hours of irrigation to insure healthy growth and strong root systems....and, that's fine. Upon exiting the building, we see that the 'reclaimed' water is making its way across the marble entrance walk and stairs leading down to the sidewalk. Now, 'I in my sandals was all settled down for a warm winter's walk around the corner to downtown.' Well, unfortunately, that failed to transpire because within seconds my left foot was curled under me like a pretzel at the ballpark and my world became topsy turvy and surreal.

What a Wild Ride both physically and mentally and the now defunct Mr. Toad in Fantasyland at Disney World has nothing on me this go around. Carefully extracting my leg from beneath me, I looked at my husband's face only to see initial panic.....well, I suppose the two, gut-wrenching, primal screams emitted from a dark place deep inside of me had set-off various alarms! Then came wave upon wave of nausea and almost blacking-out which was the closest to experiencing shock that I ever need to be near. What a horrendous, helpless feeling! I recall panting heavily, taking in huge gulps of breath through my mouth and letting it out just as forcibly and thinking I'm either going to beat this next wave or give birth trying. Thank you Lamaze class.

After calming down a bit and calculating just how wet the back of my skirt was getting from the water that continued to drip down the marble steps (my new ground zero) like a small waterfall, Dan pulled the car around to the front of the building, more than ready to get me inside as fast yet comfortably as possible.

From the moment my right foot was descending the top of the stairs and my left foot was independently deciding to take flight, like a clumsy bird, out from under me, my brain registered a multitude of things. Among them: How will I land? How do I protect myself? How long will it take to arrive at the nearest Emergency Room if I hear a snapping sound? And, Note to Self: Ask Dan if the office has main entrance surveillance cameras....morbidly thinking that I'd like to see how this thing 'went down' and, I had yet to land safely on the ground!! Seriously, the mind is a wondrous thing! Later he told me they did not. Bummer!

Sitting there in pain with my leg elevated on Dan's knee seeking support and possible relief, a lady in her mid to upper sixties was walking by with her 'perfectly coifed' white poodle being led on a rhinestone studded black leash with matching collar. The lady, dressed quite smartly, also, totally in white, including her 'perfectly coifed' white hair, walked by us as she was gazing up at the facade of the "Taj Mahal" and soon they passed out-of-view. The sight of this matching 'couple' gliding by made us both forget our current predicament for one magical moment and we smiled for the first time.

I'm not going to lie....the ride home was excruciating! My highly sensitive ankle was privy to even the erratic and minute sensation of one of our tires passing over a loose stone in the road. But, we made it (after a quick stop at Panera for Take-Home) and I survived the twenty-minute drive.

Let the healing process begin!!

Sitting here with my ankle icing and elevated for most of the day, I can literally observe the various color changes my poor foot is going through.....in real time. Get-out-of-here! If I didn't have the flat screen to watch, my iPad for writing, a current book to read and, oh yes...the clock tick..tick..ticking away, my sanity would be compromised. (Someone out there will say it has been already.) I am understanding how familiarity with routine breeds clarity, healing and peace of mind.  Something like a subconscious choreographed dance routine....it appears to be helping.

My husband has been a gem leaving me a thermos of coffee, the phone, ibuprofen and cold water, among other items deemed necessary to survive this incarceration period. Each day I praise the benefits of Biofreeze Roll-On. Angels of Mercy include my daughters calling from Michigan to check-in on my progress, my 'beautiful' friend and neighbor, Janice, for eliminating 'negative time' by conversing on the phone for several hours (laughing together for most of it) and, my amazing granddaughter, Lydia, for orchestrating Skype sessions with me before she goes to Kindergarten in the morning!! I am truly Blessed....

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This morning marks the beginning of Day Five. Independence Deprivation has set in. Walking with crutches is NOT considered a bonafide 'mode of transportation.' Spirit and swelling are slowly diminishing while 'color wheel' ankle thrives. Important Note to Self: Schedule a Deep Tissue body massage in near future. Everything sore...including (especially) arms, arm pits and right leg.  All have been doing triple duty!

Yes, all of this is getting pretty old by now and, I can honestly say that you really don't know what you have until circumstances deem otherwise. Since I've been warming this particular cushion for so long now, there's been ample time to analyze each 'tick' of the wall clock above me and I ask myself to consider how many of them it takes to pass for me to heal? More importantly, how few of them it takes to change your life completely? Lesson learned: Make each one count.







Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of the 'Taj Mahal' completed. It's only been several weeks since it has been and most of my visits, via across the street, have been nocturnal ones. I promise to work on this update.

Observations.......

Hot Coffee In The Morning

A series of short stories......
                                                                 



Through My Eyes........

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


At this precise moment, as I plunk away on my flat keyboard, I am so grateful for my steaming mug of HOT coffee!  Not necessarily to drink...although, my addiction to caffeine is quite evident to anyone who knows me...but rather, for the ability to place a strangle-hold on the scalding piece of pottery with my semi-frozen appendages!  Such bliss for my fingers as the Orlando temps linger in the low thirties outside for the second day in a row.  It is around six in the morning and already I fear that my biggest regret today will be the fact that we decided to remove, much too soon, the old sheets covering our delicate plants for warmth.  Sadly, for the plants, only time will tell.

Within the past nearly seventeen years of residing in Central Florida I have observed many things with regard to living the Floridian lifestyle.   Two of them have formidably stood out the most for me.  The first I like to call 'Everyone's God-given right-to-turn-right,' or, 'The inability to be able to bring your vehicle to a complete stop!'  People...a red light or a stop sign in front of you truly means you must come to a complete STOP before proceeding with your right turn!!  This is especially annoying when I feel I've been experiencing senescence as I sit in the 'left turn only' lane for several hours (exaggeration implied)  waiting for my green arrow privilege of turning left, only to have to 'play chicken' for that honor with the chosen-by-the-gods driver making his cruising right turn across the intersection from me!! 

And, along these same lines of ridiculous to dangerous... I refer to the people who consider that oncoming traffic should willingly come to a complete stop, if not, slow to a tortoise crawl, due to the fact that they have decided to merge into that lane from a side street or parking lot without stopping first or even looking to see if a car might happen to be traveling down the road already.  Then they proceed in front of you moving at a snail's pace! Do I sound bitter? 

Pet peeves, observations, annoyances......you make the call!

More than likely you have experienced similar activities wherever you may reside because 'inconsiderate behavior' exists worldwide.  For some reason, however, a blatant unconscious decision of the rights of others has always been a bone of contention for me.  It doesn't matter if it's ignoring certain laws, talking over one another in a conversation, disrespecting the opinion of others or the act of not allowing everyone the right to live his or her life in the manner they wish to....  We are all human and deserve respect, courtesy and understanding.

I've been working very hard on improving my attitude toward the above unconscious drivers especially when considering negativity gives birth to possible road rage.  And, if my supposition above is an honest one, these drivers are human and deserve my respect, courtesy and understanding, as well.  Oh, I'm trying.  I really, truly am.

Okay, so now I am practically hugging the coffee pot itself as I pour my next cup.  Another misfortune of existing in a warm climate, I'm afraid: When the mercury goes south, so do our spirits.  A bit evident by my shared thoughts this morning.  Ouch!! 

And, I have yet to mention my second observation regarding living in Florida.  Here goes....  Nothing ever really dies!  I wholeheartedly believe this phenomenon to be truthful and accurate, at least according to my personal experience with local flora whether it be indoors or out-of-doors, existing in a pot or residing in the ground.
  

Not having been born with a green thumb, (apparently, only blue fingers this morning!), many once green, healthy and thriving plants have succumbed to.....okay, croaked, bought the farm, gave-up the ghost or kicked the bucket because of me in the past seventeen years.  Or, so I thought, until conditions begin to agree with the poor, shriveled and brown friend I left semi-forgotten within a glazed blue pot. Unbelievably, succulent new green shoots begin pushing their way towards the light and multiplying.  Plucking the dead leaves away from this new life, I realize this plant has survived to see another season in my care.....whether it wants to or not.  Sincere apologies to the delicate plantings left naked to the elements throughout this cold night.  If my ideas are correct, however, there is hope!

 

Along the lines of the 1985 science fiction film, Cocoon, directed by Ron Howard, perhaps dismissing the alien intervention part, my imagination has often applied itself to this hypothesis, "Nothing living in Florida ever dies."  My plants, more or less, prove this to be true.  And, given the fact that according to the publication of Active Retirement Living, an average of one thousand people move to our normally sun-filled state each day with a majority moving into Florida retirement communities.  Are we to assume that many of them agree with my theory and just might know something more than we do?  Just wondering!!

My concern and Love goes out to all of you coping with the frigid weather conditions and temperatures within your particular areas of the country!  Stay warm and safe....

A series of short stories.....





New Beginnings.......


By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



Yes, I must change my main heading now that the new year is upon us....that's always 'the deal' when you decide to incorporate a timeline within a title.  I knew that when I originally entitled my Blog Site after returning from Ireland in September.  Sadly, it is time...

However, I am so looking forward to living, breathing, writing in and embracing this new year....2014!!

First of all, the number fourteen, and I type it here with reverence, has been 'My Number' since.....well, forever!  Yes, Virginia....I can actually remember being fourteen and it was a very exciting time in my life.  As a freshman in high school, I was finding my own way into the craziness that high school was but, most importantly, I began honing in on my target and goal in life, writing.  My teachers elected to honor me as a Quill and Scroll member.  I wrote many articles for our school paper, Purple Paws, and our Varsity football coach, Pete Reynolds, invited me to be Varsity sports writer......something a female had never done before at Three Rivers High School!  Also, one of my first poems (Time) was published in the local newspaper.

Memories....Wow!  Another spectacular event, albeit a tad superstitious, perhaps, was trying out for the Girl's Drill Team at the age of fourteen.  Of course, I was 'lucky' enough to be given the number fourteen at tryouts, I kid you not!  You got it, I did make the squad and, by the following year, was chosen Captain of the Team.  And, as they say, the rest is history.  Sorry.  But, it was fun!

What did that have to do with my writing career, you might ask?  It showed me that I could be a leader and not just a follower.  You have to remember that I was a product of the 1960's with strong female figures who, regardless of race...or, because of it...were visionaries (dreamers) when it came to expecting, demanding, equality with men in our society.  If they had not set the bar as high as they did back then, we might as well be living in caves today being pulled around and enjoying no earthly freedoms or rights.  Woman sacrificed so much back then, and in subsequent years, in order to even allow the ingenuous freedoms our daughters have today.....and, still we must fight for equal pay?!?  Just asking.

This story is about Moving On...into a new year with new beginnings, new possibilities and positive changes.  I know.  I digress.  Often we must look back, however, in order to move forward in this thing called life.  That is how change comes about, thoroughly familiarizing yourself with what must be changed in order to have a better today and a brighter tomorrow because of it.

Travel has always been a contributing factor towards making my life enjoyable and more complete.  For me, the complex recipe for 'Life' is taking its main ingredient, Love, and mixing in indiscriminate proportions of ideas, emotions and gestures and folding them together like muffin batter.....ever so gently.  There's going to be lumps in there, but that's alright.  If everything ran smoothly....where would the challenges be that help to make us stronger; that mold us into the beautiful individuals we are?  My specific 'extra' ingredients include generous amounts of passion, laughter and compassion for others.  Now, the colorful icing atop each muffin is made from my love of travel and photography.  Perfect!!

I have changed my main heading with all the above in mind.  And, I will begin to fold into the 2014 version a variety of new stories and personal ideas to share with you at least once a week.  In no way will I forsake the remaining 'Ireland' story ideas I have nestling within my imagination....they're restlessly waiting to be turned into print and illustrated just for you.  If truth be told...I need to get them out of there! 

So, here's looking this New Year smack dab in the eye and availing myself of all the exciting, challenging and wonderful things it has to offer.  May I suggest that you do the same.....and, we'll compare notes.

Stick with me, Dear Readers, because.....the best is yet to come!!




Note:  Praise and Congratulations go out to The Michigan State Spartan Football Team and Coach Mark Dantonio for their decisive victory in the 100th Anniversary Rose Bowl Game....Great Old-School fashion, confident, Football at its Very Best!!!  Always so proud to be a Spartan.