I’m Just Not Feeling It

4F6A46DC-2742-4D23-B446-3106CE524C9FI have four partially written draft posts that I started today and they all suck.

In one of the four drafts, I tried to craft, as I am wont to do each day, a cohesive story around five one-word prompts, including my own. But nothing worked.

Then I began writing a post for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt and I just couldn’t get it to come together. Same with The Haunted Wordsmith’s Daily Prompt post and with Paula Light’s Three Things Challenge post. Nada!

I thought about writing yet another rant about Donald Trump and, even though there’s plenty to rant about, my head and my heart just weren’t into it.

I have been wracking my brain (or is that racking my brain? I’m never sure which is the correct expression) all day, but nothing has surfaced.

Then I saw the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, where we are challenged to weave a tale in which ‘search’ features prominently.

So perhaps that’s the answer. I’ve been spending all this time today in search of something to write about and to post. But is it appropriate to write a post about a search when that search has come to naught? Probably not.

Maybe I’ll try again later. Or maybe not. But right now, I’m just not feeling it.

MLMM Tale Weaver — The Golden Years

7B72DFDE-E20E-4004-B9E2-D8773ABC9FE0“Look at this lunch,” groused Herman. “I can’t believe how much this place is starting to skimp on the food. And they call these ‘the golden years,’ yeah, right.”

“Oh Herman, quit your bitching and moaning,” Gladys, another resident in the retirement home, implored. “I’m sick and tired of hearing your constant complaints.”

“Overall, I think the food they serve us is pretty decent,” Charles chimed in.

Herman rolled his eyes. “Charles, you couldn’t distinguish between shit and Shinola if your life depended on it, so who are you to judge the quality of this crap they’re serving us? And, Gladys, what kind of ivory tower are you living in?”

“Herman, you have such a rotten disposition,” Gladys responded. “The one thing you can’t escape is getting older.”

“Well, all I’m saying is that whoever came up with ‘the golden years’ as a euphemism for being old was definitely not old,” Herman said.

“If you consider the alternative to getting old,” Charles said, “being old, alive, and breathing is definitely golden. Now quit your grousing and finish your lunch. Bingo starts at one o’clock sharp.”


Written for the Tale Weaver prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, where the challenge is to write a tale about old age. Also for these daily prompts: Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (skimp), Ragtag Daily Prompt (distinguish), The Daily Spur (tower), Word of the Day Challenge (escape), and Your Daily Word Prompt (disposition).

MLMM Tale Weaver — Wash, Rinse, and Repeat

5A7BB20F-5628-48A4-BF02-319FB36FD210The question his therapist asked Avery was, “Do you have anything in your life that you consider a ritual. For example do you follow a routine each day, that is part of the way you start or end your day?”

“Well,” Avery said, “I’m not a religious man, so there are no spiritual rituals I follow. But as a retiree, every day is Saturday. And I do have certain activities that I do each day, but that would hardly classify them as rituals.”

“And what are those daily recurring activities, Avery?” the shrink asked.

“For starters,” Avery responded, “every morning when I wake up, I go to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of coffee, and sit down to read the daily newspaper — the paper edition, not the electronic version. Then I fix myself a bowl of cereal, and read whatever book I’m reading at the time until it’s time to walk my dog.”

“I see,” the therapist said. “And this is a routine you follow every day?”

“Yes it is,” Avery said. “Then I fix myself some lunch, spend some time on my computer, and then take a nap until late afternoon, when I get up and take my dog for another walk.

“By then it’s dinner time, so I’ll make myself something to eat, after which I will watch television for a few hours before I take my dog out for his final walk of the day.”

“And what happens after that last walk?”

“It’s about 10:00 by then, so I will head to bed and read some more for maybe an hour before turning out the light and going to sleep,” Avery said.

“And the next day you do the same thing?”

“Pretty much,” Avery said. “My day-to-day life is essentially wash, rinse, and repeat. Hmm. I guess maybe my days sort of are ritualistic. Rather boring rituals, but rituals nonetheless, I suppose.”


Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt.
Photo credit: RobertCheaib@Pixabay.com

Tale Weaver — The Best Part of Waking Up

DC7D3881-1A12-47E8-9F02-D20A5F69E457

For this week’s Tale Weaver prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, we have been invited to write about our morning and our need for coffee or tea to get our day underway.

I definitely need coffee in the morning these days, but it wasn’t always that way. In fact, unlike most of my school buds, I never touched coffee in college. I thought it was way too bitter for my tastes. But when I went to basic training in the army, I decided to give it a shot. In order to tolerate the close to sludge-like army coffee, I had to add lots of milk and sugar.

By the time I rejoined civilization after my stint in the army, I couldn’t survive the morning without coffee, and I continued to load up my coffee with milk and sugar. Eventually I decided to cut out the milk and just use sugar. But I was anything but a coffee connoisseur. I was perfectly fine drinking instant coffee, black with sugar.

But as I got older, I became more picky about my coffee. I bought a Mr. Coffee machine and bags of ground coffee and made my own fresh coffee each morning before work. I still couldn’t take it without sugar, though.

Then I switched to whole beans, got a burr grinder, and ground my own. Still black, with sugar. Finally I bought a top of the line Cuisinart combo grinder/brewer. My wife and I use only organic whole bean dark roast coffee. She has it all set up the night before and the first thing she does every morning is turn on the Cuisinart so that, by the time I head downstairs, a whole pot of delicious, fresh coffee is awaiting. I pour myself a cup and sit down and read the local newspaper.

I can’t imagine starting my day any other way.

And by the way, I gave up sugar in my coffee. Now I put half a packet of Splenda in each cup.

And that’s my story about my need for coffee to get my day underway. It’s the best part of waking up.

MLMM — Making Sense of Nonsense

28e02038-5d27-4a55-ab5c-2f4ca1aa27a5.png“What’s that contraption?” Amy asked her father.

“This?” Alex said. “It’s my latest invention, sweetie. It’s a woklecockle.”

“A woklecockle? That’s a weird name. What does it do?”

“What does it do? Can’t you tell by looking at it?”

“Actually, no, Daddy, I can’t.”

“Well, sweetie,” Alex said, “Once I power up my woklecockle, it creates a powerful force field that lights up that receiver on the upper left,” he said pointing. “The faster the wheel goes around, the stronger the force field. Ultimately it sends a signal to a communications satellite that is circling the globe. Once the connection with the satellite has been established, the satellite beams down signals to all of the strategically placed dishes on the device.”

“And then what?” Amy asked.

“And then I send the signals to my TV so that I can binge watch “Game of Thrones” for free, sweetie,” Alex said, proudly.

“But why do you call it woklecockle?”

“Because DirecTV was already taken.”


Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver Making Sense of Nonsense prompt, where we’re asked to write a story in which we describe our meaning of the word “woklecockle.” Also for Swimmers One-Word Prompt (satellite).