Today I want to be extravagant
To do, to be, to experience something extra
something outside my usual dull round
Of daily dreary activities
Meaningless actions, getting nowhere, achieving nothing.
Today I will break free
And for once be extravagant.
Wandering outside my comfort zone
Trying new things, exploring new possibilities.
But what shall I do?
I know, I’ll buy a cream meringue and eat it with a double cappuccino!
Compass needle pointing to North
Never wavering, never deviating
Solid, strong, unchanging, unbending.
Showing the way to the uncertain traveller.
Some people are born with an inbuilt compass
Know from the start where they are going to.
I’d like to be one like that
But alas I am not.
I struggle to make sense of maps
To plot a compass bearing
To set the map so it faces North.
Perhaps I need a Satnav
A firm voice telling me
“Turn right”, “After one mile, turn left”
You have reached you destination.
I wish I were stylish
I wish I had style
Perfect taste, perfect dress sense
I’d stand out a mile.
Every head would turn
When I entered a room
Poised and composed
A true fashion icon
Moving with grace
A delight when I speak.
I suppose I should face it
I’ll never be stylish
Except in my writing
Style’s clearly not my dish.
I’ve time to spare.
to do and dare
I’ve time to share
I brush my hair
What shall I wear?
the forecast’s fair
“Begone dull care”
The Bard once said. Depends
if weight of care
can bring despair
so I don’t dare
to leave my lair
or climb the stair
to reach the rainbow’s end.
I yearn to be
I’ll learn to be
The first window I remember is the upstairs one in our house-cum-shop where I lived as little girl. You could sit at the window and look out straight onto the street. This wasn’t a suburban semi-rural sort of place, but a shopping street of small individual shops, buchers, bakers, shoe shop, hairdressers, chemist, greengrocers, sweet shop. Nowadays you’d find all these under one roof in the supermarket, but not back then.
I could sit beside the window and watch the people passing, the relatively few cars and vans and the buses. The bus stop was only a few yards away and we had trolley buses . These made a distinctive sound, quite different from what we called “petrol” buses, smooth and pleasant. The wires ran high up above the road and they were attache to the bus with a trolley, a long metal rod that hooked onto the wire. Sometimes the trolley came off the wire and fell with a clang onto the roof of the bus. Then the conductor – there were still bus conductors at this time – had to hook it back on with a long cane kept for this purpose undereath the bus. A fascinating procedure to watch!
Being on the first floor meant not only could I see a fair distance up and down the road, but I was immune from other people staring in. The upper windows across the road never seemed to be occupied and low-flying aircraft were a rarity then as now.
One particular memory is that of looking out of the window on a school day and assessing whether or not the school would be closed. (This was before there were details of school closures broadcast on local radio.) The rough rule of thumb went something like this: If I couldn’t see as far as the other side of the street because of fog or more likely smog, I didn’t have to to school. If there was more than a few inches of snow it was likely that the buses wouldn’t be runing and again I was let off school and could go and make snowmen and have snowball fights with my friends.
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/toot-your-horn/”>Toot Your Horn</a>
I have a myriad of good points:
I am old and wise and witty.
I wouldn’t say I’m pretty.
I write a lot of verse,
Some fairly good, some worse.
But today I had a treat
I was told I had nice feet
By a chiropodist no less.
My face may be a mess
My dress is far from neat
But at least I have Good Feet!
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/life-after-blogs/”>Life After Blogs</a>
I admit I am old enough to remember life B.C. – before computers. I even once wrote an article in my local paper called “No Micros for Me” in which I explained why you really didn’t need to have your very own computer! Incredible isn’t it? A bit like something I read about the really early days of computing when some portentous person said he didn’t think computers would really catch on, but if they did England would need perhaps 4 or 5 machines in the country! Now if you count laptops and i-pads and smart phones I think most households – at least those with children – would be able to come up with 4 or 5 computer-type devices.
But now I really find it difficult to imagine what I would – or more likely could – do without a computer. Writing is the first thing: I can no longer produce legible handwriting. I do virtually all writing on the screen. Some time since, quite a long time, if I’m honest, I began to work straight to the screen – and I found I could do it! Easy-peasy. And I can alter and edit and change and correct so much more easily.
But it’s not only writing that I use my computer for. If it were only writing, I could replace my computer with a word processor or an electronic typewriter – with a memory function of course. No, I also use my computer to look things up, check facts, not only stuff like the date of Rabbie Burns’ birth and death, but personal things like details of appointments with my doctor or dentist, family birthdays and contact details for all sorts of people.
If I want to know what tomorrow’s weather will be like, I consult the metrological office website, if I want to go to the theatre or cinema I look for details of what plays or films are on. I can then book tickets online.
I shop online – from the ubiquitous Amazon – but also other places too. For me email has replaced snailmail whenever possible. Why type or write a letter, print it out, find an envelope and stamp and walk in my case half a mile to the nearest letterbox? I can put my words on screen, edit them and press send and off they fly. The recipient will receive my letter immediately and can read it at their leisure. I even have the advantage of a copy in my “sent” file so I can check what I said and whenI said it.
No life without a computer -now – would be going back to the dark ages.