MULTIPLY United Friends Challenge #126: Influences from the past life

Potashtam's Challenge

Describe in a story or poem the challenges and difficulties you have overcome that form your character and the person you are today.

In a country far away that you may have visited once
A language that you only know from school
Young enough to leave home and travel so far
In the book you are breaking almost every rule
But you hold on and do your best
Just persist and find a way
You must be adaptable and understanding
You are determined to do all to stay
The people talk a different language
Their money is so strange
Even the measurement system is different
Your thoughts, they start to change
After a while you make a life
No longer is it new
You begin to understand the difference
On the past you take a review
The first hurdle has been taken
You almost feel at home
But then you take another risk
and start again to roam
Another city, another place
You then meet someone forever
This is the time when you have to decide
that you will not leave this place, no never
You get married, have a family
And then the problems start
You have to cope with the school, with the money
With some of your ideas you must part
You start to take an interest in problems
that were earlier not something you had
Education, local politics, the neighbours and relations
Did not always make so glad
But somewhere along this winding way
Experience showed its face
Now looking back upon it all
The memories have left their trace
Today I don’t excite so quick
I can accept the different ideas
Through life I had made so many changes
They have taken all my fears
I suppose I could have stayed at home
But I don’t know if it was better
I made my way and found my place
And this has shaped my character

United Friends Challenge #126: Influences from the past life

MULTIPLY Creative Challenge #44: Ode to the Grapefruit

My relationship with the grapefruit
began at the age of five
We were spending the week-end with relations
It was not so far to drive
It was breakfast time and there it was
a fruit so yellow and big
It was cut in half and covered in sugar
I knew it wasn’t a fig
That’s a grapefruit said my mum
full of vitamin C
I was given a spoon to eat it with
It was really new for me
So I sunk my spoon into the flesh
to try this new found fruit
I was glad it had sugar and so I munched
but I did not find it cute
It was sour and bitter and everything yuck
Really not my cup of tea
I decided to leave it and refused to eat
On my plate I let it be
As the years went past grapefruits were sold
They were no longer rare
I never bought them, I did not like them
For the taste I did not care
Today you can buy them in liquid form
A refreshing fizzy drink
I still prefer cola, or even plain water
You can even buy grapefruits in pink
So today I was at the supermarket
Doing my weekly buys
I pulled my camera out of my bag
I found grapefruits in a good size
“What are you doing” asked my man
“I have a weekly job
The title is grapefruit, which I do not like
but I want to please the mob”
So here is my answer to grapefruity things
with a photo of grapefuits galore
Needless to say I had none in my bag
When we eventually left the store

Creative Challenge #44: An Ode to the Grapefruit

Retirement

It happens to most of us one day. You get to an age where you are retired. It happened to me two years earlier than my country intends, but I had been working most of my life, just a few years in between at home when the kids were small, and I am now at home permanently.

It is surprising the questions I have been asked, mostly the same sort of thing, mainly what are you going to do now. I have now been sitting at home for almost two weeks, and am still without an answer to the question. I just do things, but it is a funny feeling at the moment to know you do not Have to do anything, just do what you want to. In working life there are duties to be dealt with. According to what the work is, but there is always someone somewhere that is depending on what you are doing to get something out of you. This "damocles sword" is no longer hanging over your head.

So what am I doing. I have quite a normal regular day. To my surprise I have found that I arise in the morning at a sensible time, not too late and not too early. Even going to bed is not problem, and I sleep very well. I suppose I could stay up half the night, but no, even then I keep to a more or less regular sleeping time. As this retirement thing is new to me I have all sorts of things during the day to spend time on that I did not have over the last years. I am even doing housework again and quite enjoying it. I don't feel that I have to get it done in the morning but just when I feel like it. Sometimes in the middle of the afternoon, and perhaps in the morning. I have started cooking lunch again. I have a bookshelf full of cookery books and now and again dive into them to see what to cook for lunch.

Going shopping is now quite an adventure. My other half often comes with me. It is really nice to be able to take time getting things. Today I went on my own shopping. I met a one time work colleague of mine, retired for some years now, and she was most interested to know how I am coping. I told her up to now quite well and she made the suggestion we could meet for a coffee now and again. I thought this a very good idea. Just as I was leaving the supermarket, I met another retired work colleague. She did not know that I was now retired, and congratulated me. Were the congratulations to say that I had survived, or for the long year achievement of working I had behind me? Not sure about that one.

I met my neighbour this morning. She now has a wonderful little boy, about six months old, and she said we must go into town one day together. It seems the social side of things is gradually picking up.

Of course, I now have more time for "blogging". I used to write such things in the evening some time. It is now 5 o'clock in the afternoon and I thought I would do something constructive at the computer.

By the way I hope you like the flowers at the top of the blog. I took the picture yesterday afternoon when I took a walk into town and back. Actually I have a train, the journey taking only a few minutes, but decided walking would be "better" for me - twenty minutes each way. I think it was the only actual walk I did this week - have made a note to do more walking.

As I said to my other half, at last I can really enjoy the long snowy cold Winters we have. Trees and gardens covered in snow, views of snow covered mountains and everything so wonderfully white which I used to hate. I had to drive to work in these conditions and that was not fun. Now I can sit at home and decide to go shopping when the weather is better, perhaps buy food for a few days and just take photos of the wonderful Swiss Winters. Who cares, just feel perhaps a little bit sorry for those that have to go to work in it.

So enough of my ramblings for now. It is all so new and fresh at the moment. Perhaps in a few months I will be bored, read all the books I have, run out of things to blog and write about and suffering from the heat waves of our Swiss Summers. Who knows, so at the moment I am taking things as they come. Here I am on one of my last days in the office.

MULTIPLY United Friends Challenge #125: Saturday Night Live: The Gnomes of Zürich

Spaceeagle's Challenge

Write a script, story, or poem that is similar to something they used on 'Laugh-in' or 'Saturday Night Live'

Scene: Gnomes with long white beards and green pointed hats dressed in various colours according to their nationalities, sitting at a round table. At the head of the table a gnome standing, whose beard reaches to the ground and has long grey hair. He wears a large badge – Chief Gnome, Zürich. The room is decorated with framed bank notes hanging on the wall.

Chief gnome: I decided it was time to call an international conference. I have not been hearing such good things about our agents in other countries, especially from our American branch. Al – speak up.

One of the gnomes at the table stands up. He is wearing a waistcoat with white stars on a blue background and red and white striped trousers. His green pointed hat has a dollar bill in the hat band.

Al: Yes sir, Chief Gnome. We are doing our best.
Chief Gnome: Doing our best does not mean tipping off citizens of your country how to avoid paying taxes. Admittedly we have been doing that in Zürich for many years, but it belongs to our tradition. Everyone knows and as long as it is only the Swiss, it bothers no-one. Our origins are in Switzerland and here we are citizens. Al Gnome, you are our agent and have caused a lot of trouble. Our reputation is not showing from its best side at the moment.
Al: But Chief Gnome, I was just keeping up the tradition.
Chief Gnome: Is it clear that the country where you are working now has a new president? Our tradition does not interest him. Just do not forget that you are only in America as our representative on a green card and the new president is something completely different. The other president was a little colour blind, but this new one knows that green is not only a tree, but has another meaning. Our spies have reported that your green card is in danger.

At this point there were many shouts around the table and fingers pointing at Al. Some gnomes were seen to be quivering in fright.

Chief Gnome: Order please, gnomes. Does anyone have anything to say?

A gnome stands up dressed in a black shirt with red belt and dark yellow trousers.

Chief Gnome: I give the word to our German gnome
German Gnome: On behalf of the German branch of the gnomes of Germany I would express our great disappointment on the actions of our colleague in America. We have also heard the reports from America and the German politicians are not happy. They have discovered that certain gnomes have been helping some of the wealthier members of the population to become even richer. Many of our gnome brothers are secretly leaving Germany in safe boxes going to Switzerland. They are claiming financial asylum and numbered bank accounts in Switzerland. This situation can no longer continue.

Another gnome claims the word, dressed in a shirt with red white and blue horizontal stripes – the French gnome

French gnome: Oui, I am in agreement with our brothers in Germany. What they say we say as well.
German gnome: thank you brother
Chief gnome: Since we have existed the French gnome has always agreed with the German gnome. This does not solve the problems of the Swiss gnomes. Al you must do something about the situation. Perhaps release a few names of the people hiding their accounts from the new president of America. Send him a letter with a list of three hundred names, this might keep him happy.
Al: Sir, chief, this has already been done. The new president is not happy. He wants more.
Chef Gnome: When is the next election in America?
Al: in four years sir
Chief Gnome: Where is the last president? He was a good man. We still have his money in a numbered account somewhere I think.

A gnome stands up wearing a t-shirt with a Swiss cross on it

Swiss gnome: Yes sir. We do, the problem is that the last American president forgot to memorise the numbers and he could only count up to ten. It looks like the money will stay in our wonderful but small country for ever.
Chief Gnome: I miss a few words from the British gnome. Is he here?
Swiss gnome: He sent a letter to excuse himself. He is busy trying to sell a Swiss bank account to the English Prime Minister. The last news I heard is that the British gnome has been melted down and gold reserves have been made from his body to stabilise the British pound.
Chief Gnome: I have made my decision. Gnomes go back to your countries and hide in a safe place in the vaults of the national banks. Make sure you have enough currency to survive whilst you are there. It may be a long wait but I am sure in two years things will be forgotten and you can appear again.
Al: Just one thing Chief Gnome. There is one Swiss bank in America that is not so popular at the moment. I would advise not hiding in those vaults, they might collapse.
Chief gnome: Thank you Al

As the gnomes leave the room they are seen kneeling in front of a photo of John D. Rockefeller which is hanging on the wall, next to a photo of Bill Gates.

MULTIPLY Visual Aid #2: In the middle of nowhere

Jack’s father had built the house himself, each wooden slat fitting perfectly with the next. There were family photos showing a proud granddad Joe with his arms crossed standing next to the finished home. It took a long while to get everything together. He put it up on stilts to make sure it would be safe if it rained too much, and to keep the animals away. He fenced it in – just as a precaution. In those times you could not trust everyone. There were too many homeless travelling looking for work and somewhere to stay. Not all were honest, and the tales were many of farms being looted, set on fire, and the farmers even being killed just for the clothes on their back. So Joe took no chances and kept that sturdy wooden fence in order.

Eventually Joe and his wife died and the farm was passed on to his eldest son Jack. He was proud of the farm but as the years went bye the world started to change and Jack’s children were not satisfied. They left the farm and moved into the towns.

Somewhere in an office in a capital town Jack’s surroundings were being examined.
“That is an ideal place” The man in charge said “just what we need, take a look” and his co-worker had a look admiring his chief’s intelligence once again.
The co-worker’s eyes pulled the map to see it better but holding a cup of coffee in one hand, a splash of the dark brown brew landed on the map, just at the place where Jack’s farm was.
“You are right sir” he said, “nothing at all to be seen. We don’t even have to get anyone resettled.”

A few weeks later it was a dark stormy day. The clouds were gathering and plunging Jack’s farm under a veil of black. On this day there were even no birds to be seen in the sky. It was as if they had sensed that something might happen. The white fence was strongly reflecting the boundaries of the bare brown field around the house.
“Martha, looks like a storm is brewing and I have to go into town and get some supplies. Might do us both a bit of good to take a drive out.”
“Yes, I think so Jack” answered Martha “Perhaps we could stay overnight in town, my sister would be glad to see us again. We could come back tomorrow.”
“Good idea Martha, let’s get going and keep the storm behind us” and the two of them drove off.

If they had not gone to town they might have noticed that the area where they lived was suddenly surrounded by soldiers. Everything was being fenced off with barbed wire and metal signs showing “Danger – keep off” were being distributed. Martha and Jack were the only people living there. The neighbours had moved on a long time before.

“Jack, did you hear that noise”
“Yes, and that was loud, seemed to come from behind us.”
And then Jack and Martha felt a very strong wind blowing behind them, so strong that the car was forced along the road at a higher speed.

Three months later Jack and Martha were no longer. They had died from the effects of the radio-active fallout that had struck them on that fateful day. At least they were saved from seeing that their farm was no more, destroyed by one of the first nuclear tests. It had been covered by a coffee stain.

Visual Aid #2: In the middle of nowhere

MULTIPLY - Rita's "Riting" Challenge #12: The Trucker and his book

In a world of his own he sat there
Turning the pages one at a time
Unaware of surrounding disturbance
Through the words he started to climb
He was reading his book

He had forgotten his truck outside
the bookshop, it was snowing
he did not want to drive further
a cold wind it was blowing
While he was reading his book

The shop was full of people
Some were staring his way
But he was lost in another world
Somewhere he wanted to stay
Because he was reading his book

Not dressed as the usual customer
I suppose this made him stand out
But he was not really caring
The others they can doubt
He just wanted to read his book

But then he looked at the window
The snow had come to a stop
He reluctantly put the book down
and walked out to the cold, so what
He thought as he stopped reading the book

He mounted the cabin of his truck
but part of him was left behind
He remembered the name of the book
He had kept it in his mind
He was already missing his book

The roads were icy it was a bad day
for bringing his load to afar
He needed a drink, he wanted to stop
Because he saw a bar
But he knew there would be no book

He wanted to pull over away from the road
but in front a car made a turn
The tyres had lost their hold on the ice
He stopped, but the truck started to burn
If only he had his book

The lorry was soon aflame with heat
The trucker could no longer leave
He had saved the lives of the people in front
But his book he wanted to retrieve
His only thought was his book

There is a bookshop on the highway
it is always closed at night
But if you look through the window
You might see a tiny light
The trucker was reading his book

Ritas "Riting" Challenge #12: The Trucker and his book

MULTIPLY Poetry Posse Week 22 - The Shadow

Following the scent, his nose to the ground
His shadow showing the way
One paw after the other, carefully, gently moving
no stress, but here he won’t stay

He moves like a feather, so light almost transparent
You cannot hear a sound
He is searching for a victim, might be a mouse
or a bird, whatever will be found

But why so slowly, he is a cat
his mother showed him how
She said pounce where you hear them
so he uses his ears, but will make no meow

He stands a while and pauses turning his head
You might think he is looking to find
But this is a cat that cannot use his eyes
For many years he has been blind

He lost his sight, but not his smell
and his hearing is even better
The stealth of his gait, his movements so graceful
And here the ground is wetter

This makes no difference the scent is strong
A mole has moved this way
So he buries his nose into the earth
There is no time to play

And so our blind cat just follows the scent
His shadow at the fore
He has no problems, he is so brave
He will never be unsure

Poetry Posse - Week 22 - The Shadow