SPARROW REMEMBERS

SPARROW REMEMBERS

Stolen from her bed in the cold white darkness of a Canadian winter, Sparrow’s last sight of home was the sun rising beyond the grain silo beside her house.

Instead of attending school, she chopped wood, broke ice for water in winter, suffered mosquito swarms in summer, and endured nights under a stinking blanket with her captor.

She was thirteen when another little girl appeared – then she remembered that image.

With the child on her back she trudged east, scavenging for food, hiding from strangers, focussed only on one thing – the vision of sunrise over her parents’ farm.
.....................................................................................
Dawn Miller's photograph may well have been taken in Canada - it reminds me of the country around my son's home in Ontario, where he lives with his Canadian wife and two small daughters. So my mind instantly put together Canada, little girls, and the photo's focus to create my story.
You can read what other writers made of the image by following links from Rochelle's blog.  https://rochellewisoff.com/

THE SHOE - flash fiction for the weekend

I am back at home! Two weeks in Canada was long enough to get to know my fifteen-month-old granddaughter, but not nearly long enough to be close to her and her parents. Skype is wonderful, if you can work out a mutually acceptable time with a five hour time difference, but I shall miss the cuddles.
Now I am home I can ease back into the routine of being around my UK-based family and, of course, of writing.
This week's photograph for Friday Fictioneers was taken by Rochelle herself and posted on her blog https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/  Follow the Blue Frog link from there to read stories from other Friday Fictioneers. After you've read mine - and left a comment if you can!

THE SHOE

We were on a half-term break, walking along a beach, when Alice ran up to me. “Look what I found, Mum!”

It lay in her hand, soggy and salt-encrusted – a small shoe with a barely legible name written inside – an Arabic name on an Italian beach.

I write Alice’s name in her shoes too, but the fear of losing clothes at school hadn’t been this mother’s worst nightmare.

“Why are you crying, Mum?”

I shook my head helplessly and Alice ran off again. 

How do you begin to explain such tragedy to a five year old?

FIRST NATION - a 100 word story

Late on parade again!
I've been a tad busy with the bureaucratic aftermath of selling property in Spanish territory, and we also handed our car over to its new owners, said adios to several friends, and checked that our money had arrived safely in England

Today I had just finished writing this when my daughter suggested a walk along El Medano promenade and a lunch of sardines and pulpo. No contest - blogging could wait!

For those of you who don't already know, Rochelle runs thie weekly Flash Fiction Fest from her blog https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/  If you follow the Blue Frog trail from there you can read scores of other writers' takes on theis week's photo prompt.
After you've read and commented on mine, of course!

FIRST NATION

The Jeep lurched and Monty fought it to a standstill.

“Flat tyre,” he said resignedly, “Everyone out – you kids find me a flat rock to support the jack.”

Beside the wide, empty road Josh tugged the perfect rock out of a pile and Amy gasped, “You can’t take that – it’s Indian magic.”

“Don’t talk rot,” he scoffed, but immediately after the wheel-change Amy made him put it back.

“Heap of fuss about nothing,” Josh grumbled as his sister delicately replaced the top stone, but then a sudden rush of wind spread a layer of blood-red maple leaves around their feet.

X or SWALK

X is the only way one of Albie’s fellow soldiers can sign his name.

 I was surprised to discover how many young men only learned the three Rs when they joined the Army.

Here's an excerpt from my Novel Helter-Skelter:-

….it turned out he was upset because he’d been put on a charge for walking through a door marked “Authorised Personnel Only”.

“What did you do that for, you stupid Paddy git?” Thompson demanded.

O’Brien ran his huge navvy’s hand over his recently shorn scalp and muttered, “Can’t fecking read, can I?” He wasn’t the only recruit who’d missed out on the three Rs, but he was probably the only one to have private tuition from his entire hut to back up the army’s crash course…..

 X = a kiss, with which many a homesick soldier sealed his letters home SWALK. Strangely my Spanish friends tell me they don’t use an X – they simply write “besos” .

XYLOSE =  It is my usual bedtime wind-down to do a Cryptic Crossword – and this word cropped up so I thought I’d use it today. According to the clue in the  crossword it is SWEET AND SUGARY but the dictionary definition is much more complex:

XYLOSE is a white crystalline dextrorotatory sugar found in the form of xylan in wood and straw. It is extracted by hydrolysis with acids and used in dyeing, tanning, and in foods for diabetics. Formula: C₅H₁₀O_5.

So now we all know.

A photo of Canada for no real reason other than I am missing my Canadian son. xxxx

NIAGARA - and Silver Service for Dogs!

On my recent trip to Canada, of course the family took me to Niagara Falls, and it was as stunning as you'd expect. Of all the photos I took I think this one gives the best impression of its power .

This photo is the first one I took, showing the cloud of spray which is visible from quite a distance.

Surprisingly it was very quiet - I had been expecting thunder - but all that falling water made me glad I had my son to hang onto.

  There were so many different languages being spoken that I couldn't count them, but I heard German, French, Russian and English voices, and there were an enormous number of Japanese tourists.

The Canadians are a little scathing about the American Falls, which aren't nearly as spectacular, and fall onto a pile of rocks rather than straight down. The Americans can only see their Falls from a platform built out over one side. Their view of the Canadian Falls is obscured, but apparently one needs a visa to cross over the bridge from one country to another.

Further downstream is a strange place where the river swirls into a whirlpool before making a complete right turn.

Daniel and a friend hiked down through the forest earlier in the year and picnicked on the beach there. One wouldn't want to swim, though - that whirlpool is fierce.









And of course there has to be a commercial side to all this scenery - we drove through the "Entertainment" section just to have a look!

Loud Muzak from slot-machine galleries, burgers and chips, fish and chips, candy floss and bubble gum.
 "Buy your Falls T-shirt here!"
"Everything for the Kiddies!"

We moved on to Niagara on the Lake, which was much prettier, though still completely devoted to tourism.

Outside one shop Julia and I saw a silver tray with two serving dishes sitting on the pavement. Moving closer, we discovered they contained food and water for passing dogs. There was even a vase with a flower in it.

There's posh.

CANADIAN AUTUMN

Except in Canada they call it “fall”. While we in Tenerife are enjoying a spring-like autumn, in Canada their autumn was last month, and I was there to see it. 

My first visit to see where my son has settled with his Canadian wife coincided with the explosion of colour that is a Canadian fall. 

Everywhere I looked was worthy of a painting and I took a load of photographs which I have sorted into separate albums. 

Today's offering is simply entitled "Trees" - I hope you like them.

And finally - a design of leaves.

WHOOO-hooo !!!

On my way to Canada I bought Christmas presents for my son and daughter-in-law. One day I walked into Ingersoll town - yes, walked - past lovely houses, half of them already decorated for Halloween, and when I reached Main Street I wandered round the shops looking for Christmas wrapping paper.
Could I find any? Fat chance!
In Tenerife and England, Christmas hit the shops as soon as the "Back to School" stuff had gone. Not so in Canada. Halloween had taken over.

 In the Dollarmart there were Halloween costumes and decorations, Halloween paper plates and candles, Trick or Treat sweetie bags, plastic pumpkins, scary lanterns, glow-in-the-dark skeletons, witches brooms and hats, spiders and rats and cobwebs. But no Christmas paper. I found one solitary pack of holly-decorated napkins and bought those plus a roll of Sellotape to make my own wrappings.

And today, back in Tenerife, I have succumbed to the pressure and laid in supplies for when crowds of neighbourhood kids come knocking on the door. The only English words most of them know are "Trick or Treat" (and those are American) but they all know how to hold out a goodie bag. I admire their costumes, give extra sweets to the ones I know, and take a photo of each group so they know it's not worth trying a return visit on this foreigner!

IMPRESSIONS OF CANADA - and Quilts

 I arrived in Toronto at eight in the evening, but my body thought it was one in the morning the next day, so my first impressions were absorbed through a fog of fatigue. Large airport, grim-faced staff at Immigration, then a welcoming hug from the son and daughter-in-law I last saw eighteen months ago.  An hour later we were consuming a hearty soup and homemade bread in their home in Ingersoll, and I managed to stay awake long enough to avoid jet-lag.
The next day we went to the supermarket, looked round Ingersoll, and visited a quilt exhibition.

 

 QUILTS!  At the Victoria Park Creative Arts Centre in Ingersoll there were hundreds of them - hanging on walls, draped over frames, suspended from the ceiling.
I was reminded forcibly of the tapestries women used to make to keep the draughts at bay in castles, because many of these quilts were far too ornate and delicate to sling over a bed - and you definitely couldn't put any of them in a washing machine!

I was stunned - my own efforts at patchwork cushions years ago faded into insignificance in the face of this splendour.
The were quilts for babies, quilts that told a story, special quilts for weddings or birthdays or Christmas.

 The labels on some told me that they had been sewn by one person and quilted by another - a complete industry revolves around this craft, of which the little stalls selling fabric scraps and strips and threads were only the tip of the iceberg. There were even some landscapes made from fabric.

I was too dazed by the variety - and by tiredness - to ask sensible questions of the women - and men - who had laboured for so many hours to produce them, so I will simply let the photos speak for themselves.

                                                                            WOW!
That was only my first day in Canada - watch this space for more impressions.

DON'T FORGET ME WHILE I'M GONE!

I am taking a month off, starting tomorrow with a four-hour flight to Gatwick, where my younger daughter will meet me. Then I shall have four days at my elder son's house sharing a room with my grandsons, who are now much bigger than they were at this family wedding.
L-R: No2 daughter & husband. No1 daughter & husband. No2 son & new wife. No1 son, wife & boys.

I will visit my mother and some friends, have my eyes tested, and see what the Post Office has to offer in the way of OAP Travel Insurance.
I must also buy some M&S socks and knickers and blackcurrant sweets to take to my younger son and his wife in Canada.
Two weeks in Canada! My first ever visit, and the longest trip I have made alone for 22 years. The itinerary my daughter-in-law has planned sounds fabulous, and includes a trip to Lake Elliot for Canadian Thanksgiving, but the main thing is to see where my boy has settled with his Canadian wife.
Then ten whole days back in the UK to relax, pick up my new glasses and do a bit of shopping before a flight home to Tenerife.

No1 daughter will keep an eye on the OH while I'm gone, so all I have to do is enjoy myself. And perhaps make a few notes, and write a story or two, and maybe blog once or twice just to keep my hand in, so don't go too far away!

SMILE AND THE WORLD SMILES WITH YOU

I was shopping in Las Galletas this morning and I could have made half a dozen new friends (or possibly half a dozen pick-ups) because I couldn't get the smile off my face. Even when my mouth was in serious mode, I could feel my eyes were still smiling, and I got a good few smiles back. Maybe I should do it more often.
The reason for my happy mood? I have booked a flight to Canada! My younger son married a Canadian girl two years ago, and after jumping through all the hoops the Canadian Government required, they moved over there last year. Permanently. Which means that to visit them I must get from Tenerife to Toronto.

I could go either via the UK or mainland Spain. Have you ever spent a few hours waiting for a connecting flight in Madrid airport? Not an experience I wish to repeat. So in September I shall go to England to stay with No1 son and get some grandson cuddles, then to Canada to spend a fortnight with No2 son. I have been promised spectacular fall scenery, a visit to Niagara Falls, and a Thanksgiving party in the north. My son's in-laws are a delightful couple who live round the corner, so I shall have company of my own age too. And on top of all that, both of my daughters-in-law have said they are looking forward to seeing me!

It might be 4 months before I go but I am already wondering how to organize my writing. I'll be away for a whole month and I can't imagine not writing for that length of time. What was that I said on my profile? Oh yes - I'm a compulsive writer. The OH accuses me of being addicted to it - he's right.