A Comfy Kind Of Restless

Hi!!

Oooo! Fifth and final instalment time…

(The last four are: here, here, here annnnnd…here!)

I have left this late to write because I was stupidly scared to start.  I generated the words about 15 mins before I had to pick Youngest up from nursery, looked up what secant meant and also the various definitions of Pallas (this disambiguation page is extensive!)…then I fell down the rabbit hole of YouTube on purpose after picking up Eldest.

From Jimpix

[Who doesn’t need to fold laundry while shedding a tear over the stories behind the beautiful voices from past televised talent show auditions?!]

I didn’t let myself sit and just find my ‘in’ to the last part of this story until the noisy background of bathtime.  The kids must have conditioned me in some crazy way to think better through numerous distractions?!  My 20 mins came up with the below.  It is what it is…

Pallas   Bitter   Secant   Imperfect   Restricted   Wrist   Cart   Plain   Barriers

I keep your picture in my head

Way you move, way you smile

But blood lies all around

Rose lies broken on the ground.

Blood and Roses by Pallas, from the album: Beat The Drum

As Ollie first looked around, he thought maybe he’d fallen asleep to the old Pallas tape again.  He was somewhat surprised not to be in his own bed, and to see his mother asleep in a chair: bun all askew and her handbag dangling from her unconscious arm.

This did not bode well.

There was a cup to his right that appeared to have water in it, but when he tried to drink, he realised it was laced with the lemon juice that his mother swore by.  With his booming headache, the bitter hit was far from welcome.

Where was Bridget, Ollie wondered.  Had she ended up here, too?  As he shifted in the bed, he could feel other parts of his body complaining, so he guessed that maybe they had been in some sort of accident? 

“It’s like you’ve been a miserly secant to my whole life and thrown me back this tiny sliver!!”

Oh yes…Bridget had been very upset that morning (was it night now?  How long had he been out?).  He shouldn’t have stayed out with Kev.  Product launches are meant to be imperfect; staying up to the small hours poring over the figures, their creative flair restricted by alcohol, was never a smart idea…

His mother gave an exclaimation when she opened her eyes and realised he was awake.

“Oliver!  Thank God! I was so worried!”.  She moved to sit on his bed, her smooth hand caressing his wrist.

“Hi, mum” smiled Ollie “where’s Bridget?  Is she ok?”

His mother’s face changed.  “Hopefully they’ve had the sense to find her and cart her off to the nearest police cell! There’s been a plain-clothed policeman skulking about here for the last few hours, like he’s got nothing better to do than wait for you to wake up…  Miriam from the next street told me there were barriers outside yours, earlier.  At least they’re taking things seriously!”

Ollie’s eyes had widened.  He wasn’t quite sure how to process what his mum had just said.  “So…Bridget had something to do with my injuries?  Was she driving?”

Ollie’s mother blinked.  “You weren’t in a car…from what the doctor said you were lying in a pool of blood on the patio when they found you!”

“WHAT?!?”

“Yes, apparently no-one saw anything, but a few of your neighbours reported the sounds of an argument, when the police went door-to-door…”

THE END

My eyes are drooping, so I will have to backdate this post, but I am glad I was able to write something,eventually, and not get beaten by the generator.  I’ve been watching Julia Cameron (in interviews and speaking on YouTube) the last few days, and I am striving to keep pushing my comfort zones for my art 😉

It’s been about a decade since I wrote Morning Pages. I may start them again to fully embed my creative re-awakenings…

[Pic is from here]

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hiya 🙂

Today’s words took a bit of research to incorporate!! 

RNA is related to DNA, according to the Wikipedia page.  I thought this would be tricky to shoehorn in, however, so I went on a Google hunt and found something easier 😉

A Bustard is a type of bird.

Pastern refers to part of a horse’s leg, and Pyroxene is a group name for minerals (which meant I was looking at metamorphic rocks with cleavage, like yesterday…)

How exactly does any of the above relate to my stony-faced couple?  (See what I did there??) Read on to find out…

Rolled   RNA   Bustard   Stain   Stick   Pastern   Snipe   Food   Pyroxene

Bridget rolled over in bed the next morning and realised that Ollie still wasn’t there.  She grabbed her phone and saw that there were no missed calls or messages, so he’d probably sneaked in and fallen asleep on the couch.  Again.

Bridget did spot that the Romantic Novelists’ Association had again turned down her application to their New Writers’ Scheme.  “The RNA welcomes new members, however our scheme is fully booked for 2018…” claimed their email.  Bridget frowned and got out of bed, muttering about websites not being updated on time and the unfairness of a writer’s life.

She found Ollie half dressed and bleary eyed in the kitchen.  He looked awful.

“’Morning” she said.

Ollie looked sheepish: “Hi.”

“Good night?” asked Bridget

“Riveting documentary on the Great Bustard I had to stay up for.  They’re odd looking birds, they have whiskers like an old man.  They were hunted to extinction here, but are being re-introduced to the Salisbury Plain.  Shame you missed it…” said Ollie.

“Ah. Lovely.  What’s that stain on your top?” said Bridget.

“Kebab…?”

“Lovely…”  she was trying to stick to a ‘pastern to the posterior’ instead of full-blown kicking him, but she was losing the battle a little more every second…

“Don’t snipe at me, at least I ate!  Food is food.  And I didn’t puke.”  Said Ollie.

“Snipe…?”

“Well…you know…that teacher look thing you have going on.”

“I don’t!”

“You definitely do” said Ollie.

“I just thought you were tired, but then you didn’t even come to bed…” that’s it Bridget, focus on your feelings, not blame, well done…

“God!  I said I was sorry!”

“You didn’t, actually”

“Well…sorry!! There you go!  I was being an insensitive…Bustard!” grinned Ollie

“Was…?!

“Oh, c’mon Bridge!  Don’t be like that!”

“15 years, Ollie! You’d think that would mean something!”

“It does Bridge! C’mon, I took you out for a nice meal, can’t we just be friends?!”

“You only took me because I booked it!!”

Ollie harrumphed and proceeded to pick up her late father’s rare Perovskite, Nepheline and Pyroxene mineral blend from the bookshelf.

“Why do we keep this lump of shiny concrete, again?!” he sulked.

That would go down in history as Bridget’s final straw…

No offence meant to the RNA, this was just me using creative wiggle room, which hopefully they’ll understand 😉

Tomorrow is to be the last instalment and I have no idea which words I’ll get, but I have a few avenues of thought for endings to this, so I am hoping one of them is accommodated by the generator!!

See you tomorrow… 😀

[Pic is from here]

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hi!

What have you been up to this Valentine’s Wednesday??  

I divided a sizeable chunk of my day between the school run/childcare and making a large card for Hubby from the three of us 🙂 nothing like a bit of cutting, sticking and lettering on a windy, wintry day!

My less-than-happy couple from the story celebrated in a restaurant.  Here are parts one and two if you don’t know to whom I refer 😉

Exhausted  Gild  Mycelium Afraid  Phyllite  Redirect  Jukebox  Penguin  Edible

Ollie was exhausted.

He stared across at his wife, in her best dress, and couldn’t think of a tactful (or foolproof) way to gild his words so he could cry off early that night.

Valentine’s Day.  What a crock of poop.

He hadn’t ever wanted to set foot in this namby-pamby restaurant, with its stuck up clientele; but Bridget had dropped hints the size of cannonballs for about a year now.  And then had just gone ahead and booked it as ‘his’ present.

Ollie sighed.

The man by the window was really getting drunk on whatever overpriced nonsense was in his glass, and had a lot to say about topical news stories.  Having tired of his declarations about Brexit, the buffoon rounded on women:

“…their hyphae of hate, spreading their treacherous fungus; mats of mycelium laid out – at first like a welcome, but soon as a trap!  No wonder men are afraid to breathe around them these days!”  His male companion chuckled encouragingly “’if I want pressure and cleavage’ I said to her ’I’ll stay home and stare at my phyllite floor tiles…!’”  More ‘old boys’ laughter.

Ollie looked across at his wife again.  “Are you sure you want to eat here?” he asked.

“Yes!” she hissed (rather too forcefully, for her husband’s liking)

“Ok.  Well, I just can’t see anything on the menu I like…” said Ollie.

“You like seafood.”

“Yes, but not at these prices…”

“I thought this was worth a bit of a splurge! It’s been 15 years!”

“I know, honey, and it is…it’s just…  Well.  Lobster on a Wednesday?  Really?”

The look she gave him made Ollie go the way of the clam.

Later, in their local pub, in an attempt to redirect his mutinous thoughts; he went over to the jukebox and tried in vain to find ‘their’ song.  He longed to get back to the sofa and snaffle the last Penguin in the tin.  Red ones were always the best.

A damn sight more edible than that ‘gourmet’ rubbish he’d been forced to pick at earlier, anyway…

[Pic is from here]

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hey 🙂

Ready for part two?!

[Here is part one if you need it ;)]

Jimpix came up with a nice mixture today, so I was reasonably comfortable…

Steam   Utility   Cinnamon   USD   Clerk   Logger   Policy   Saxophone   Inflate

She was steam-cleaning the utility room and the tantalising smell of cinnamon and sandalwood, from the homemade multipurpose cleaner she’d used in the kitchen, was taking her to her happy place.  She could have just bought some of that eco-cleaner online but, even converted from USD, it was a tad extortionate. 

The granules from the cinnamon powder were a little noticeable on her counters, but the clerk at the health-food shop had told her it wouldn’t damage anything…

There was so much to be said for aromatherapy in the home!  She couldn’t wait to watch more YouTube videos about it. 

The Pine and Cedarwood essential oils had made her think of Forests…some hunky logger, throwing back his long dark locks, flexing his muscles, cutting down trees with just an axe to showcase his strength for her…

“BRIDGE…? YOU SEEN THE POLICY FOLDER?” Ollie shouted, from somewhere upstairs.

“THE WHAT?!?” Bridget replied.

“The policy folder” Ollie said, getting closer “I want to look at our life insurance.”

An evil glint came into Bridget’s eye for a moment, but she let it pass.  “No.  I haven’t.  Try the spare room?”

“Ok.  You alright?  You look flushed” said Ollie.

“Oh. Well!  Steam cleaning, you know…” said Bridget.

“Ok.  Well, I’ll go look in the spare room, then…?”

“Yeah.”

Ollie left.

Bridget waited until she heard him stomping upstairs again (why did he always have to do that?!) before she re-ran the Saxophone track in her head:   He would turn and lock eyes with me, I would move forward and brush some twigs from his shoulders…

“No wonder those sites inflate their prices” she thought, later.  “The effects of a great scent are totally worth it!”

Where will we go from here?!  Jimpix will guide the way…

Be sure to check back tomorrow 😉

[Logger pic is from here]

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hey There 🙂

Well, I have decided to try out another 5-part story to take me through the working week.  I won’t be using Haikubes this time, however…I am going to rely on my old frenemy, Jimpix!!

As regular readers will know, this particular random word generator is very good at angling curve-balls at me, so writing a cohesive story over 5 days with it should be suitably challenging!!

To make things a little easier, I got Textfixer to throw me out 5 words to choose a title from:

Words generated: concrete, acrobatic, compassionate, witness, kick

‘Concrete Witness’ seemed to give me the most scope, so I went for that 😉

I then forged ahead and visited Jimpix for nine words to get writing with:

And so I began, timer set for 20 mins…

Ollie   Fretful   Silicon   Sin   Main   Gift   Smoked   Medium   Rad

Ollie cringed as his wife’s fretful voice bounced around the mostly tiled walls.  Hearing her approach the door, he pretended to be engrossed in determining the Silicon content of the bath sealant; trying to dodge whatever retribution was coming his way for his latest perceived sin.

“Are you in the main bathroom?!” she shrieked.

“Yes…”

“Good!” she barrelled in, “what did you do to Aunt Mary’s chocolates?!”

“What chocolates?”

“The ones on the counter!”

“The Belgian ones?”

“YES!!”

Ollie went back to ‘reading’.

His wife gathered herself in a bit, and seemed to grow taller “Did you eat the chocolates, Oliver…?!” She asked, in a mock-calm voice.

“I only had one…” said Ollie, truthfully.

“They were a gift for Aunt Mary!”

“They’re lovely, a very good choice” said Ollie, climbing back into the bathtub, toolbelt jangling.

“But she won’t GET them now, because YOU have opened them!  And I’m going over just now!” growled his wife.

“Can you not buy some more on the way?  I’ll give you the money.”

“You can only get them from that fancy shop in town, and I don’t have TIME to get more!”

“You’ll be passing Asda, though” said Ollie “get her something there.”

His wife made a noise that was a cross between a strangled chicken and a lapdog being trodden on; then she flounced off.

Ollie chuckled a little, then started to whistle.

One would never guess, looking at her now, that when they’d first met his wife had a weakness for weed; and had smoked it with her low-tar, medium nicotine cigarettes (while saying almost everything was “totally rad”).

Marriage could really ruin a relationship.

Which one are you rooting for…? 

Come back tomorrow and see what Jimpix gives me to play with, and how the story goes 😉

Tootles!!

[Choc pic is from here]

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!