Reflection on a dismally grey Sunday

Mixed stuff

Tomorrow being mother's birthday, she invited the family out to lunch today. I knew father would be there, too, so I was reluctant to go what with the last year's row and the ensuing cessation of all communication between us but for her sake still couldn't decline. We were supposed to meet at a restaurant on a hill. The day was grey and misty, rain mixing with snow, and the forecast gloomy. However, the precipitation stopped mid-morning and after a phone consultation we decided to go nonetheless. Once we were there the snow picked up again but at least it didn't accumulate.

M (my partner) and I arrived at the spot without incident and at the appointed time. However, the rest of them were nowhere to be seen. So I called and found out we were given a wrong time frame and besides, my sister with her husband were late to pick up parents. They finally arrived and we exchanged courtesy and b-day wishes and stuff. But imagine my astonishment when father - the very bastard who humiliated me and abused me verbally and emotionally throughout my life - stepped up and hugged me and welcomed me back.

Now, this sure made mother's day and everybody seemed to be happy about it. Not me, though. I'm not sure what I feel yet. Perhaps I should be happy, too, or at least relieved - but I am not. In fact, I feel completely indifferent at the moment. I did not turn him down - after all, how could I - but it didn't make me feel any closer to him. I still don't like him and I don't think I ever will but I don't hate him either. And I'm just not sure how far I can tolerate him and his antics. Still, he is but an old man and hasn't much time left so maybe I had better learn to.

(gosh, how I miss my lost friend...)

Fact (or rumour) is stranger than fiction - in 55

Three bullmastiffs attacked their owner and bit him to death last Monday. The owner, a renown physician with connections in high political circles, was discovered naked and died immediately after the arrival of the police. Allegedly, a dildo was found at the scene and rumors have it the deceased had changed gender some years ago.

3WT - just some nonsense

Faced with a paucity of ideas as to how to continue with his latest novel the bestselling author decided to take a walk. Soon he noticed he was beeing followed but before he could do anything a glabrous man grabbed him by the thropple. He tried in vain to explain he had nothing of value with him as he was running out of breath. Suddenly his assailant burst in a bout of sternutation which gave the man enough time to escape to safety. When he remembered he had an old copper phalera still attached to his jacket, he realised it had probably saved his life. Harry Zoilist, the notorious gangster, was allergic to copper. When he finally returned home, he was happy he had escaped the hitonious attack so he put on a CD with isangelous zither music and set about writing. The incident had provided him with enough material to overcome his writing block.

To haiku or not to haiku

oh well...

waking from a dream
the air raid siren becomes
my old alarm clock

Feathered bandits

This is not my first photo of crows ransacking the rubbish bins - but it gives some idea of the amount of snow we currently have (and yes, the sun finally showed up for a few hours). Being the clever animals that they are, the hooded crows have learned to take advantage of everything humans leave behind, and these cheeky opportunists have mastered the art to perfection.

Microfiction Monday

Hosted by Susan at Stony River



Waiter! There's a bug in my stew, and it's huge!
Impossible! I removed it mys... goodness! There's folks in there, too! call 911, quick!