BrewNSpew Word Prompt w/o Apr. 23, 2019 “Ecstatic”
“What are you doing!”
“My Lit homework.”
“With a dictionary? Are you nuts.”
“No, and it’s not a dictionary, sort of.”
“Sort of? It’s either a dictionary or not.”
“Nice use of grammar Shakespeare!”
“O.K. Professor. What “sort of” book is it?”
“Well, it gives the meaning of words and
synonyms for the words.”
“Aha! You mean it’s a Thesaurus.”
“O.K. Now, will you tell be what you’re doing?”
“Right! We were given a word and asked to use
it in some way. Maybe a poem, maybe a story,
maybe…well any way we wanted to use it.”
“And, Mr. Hemingway.”
“Here’s the genius part! You’ll love this!”
“Very mellifluous of you my mentor.”
“Cut the crap.”
“Here’s the fun part! The word is “Subterfuge.
Look here in the, Dictionary.”
“I know what it means.”
“Listen is says: deceit used to achieve an aim,
“Yah if you’re a con artist. So, what?”
“So, I looked at the synonyms.”
“And, in one little dictionary, I found trickery,
guile, cunning, intrigue, deviousness, deceit,
duplicity, deception! Really juicy words!
Ain’t It great!”
“Sure, great! So?.”
“So, I took the first letters of the word and
wrote a poem!”
“That’s a poem?
“It doesn’t rhyme.”
“You really know how to hurt a guy. All along
I thought you were my friend. Talk about subterfuge.”
“Awe c’mon. I’m just saying.”
“Would you rather I said I was Ecstatic?”
S tratagem, slyness, scheme, snare, servitude
U npredictable , unsuitable, unreasonable
B luff, blurred, bogus, boggled, booby trap
T rick tactic twist
R use, racket, radical, raffish,
F acade, fake, fraud, fanatic
U nderhandedness, unethical, unscrupulous
G ambit, game, guile
©Jen Goldie 4/24/2019
#Writephoto Prompt “Beyond”
“C’mon lets go!”
“Look! There’s a rainbow!”
“That’s not a rainbow. Something’s wrong.”
“Then, what is it?”
“That? That, looks like a prism effect.”
“Now your going all scientific on me.”
“Far from science my friend. It’s a fact.
Look here. Right here in my pocket dictionary“
“You’re what? You brought that?”
“Yah. It says, and I quote, “A rainbow: is an arch of
colour in the sky, caused by the sun shining
through water droplets in the atmosphere.”
“Jim. Could you please be a little less, romantic.”
“Cute Joan. Look here it is, read this.”
“Oh, alright.” “Prism: A transparent object with triangular
ends that separates white light into colours.”
“Jim! That’s a prism effect!”
“O.K. Einstein. I’ve created a genius!”
“Must be something in those branches Jim.”
“Yah I think.”
“Jim, you’re the climber! Don’t look at me. My feet
stay on terra firma.”
“I said no.”
“Joan. There’s something moving under that moss
“Did you hear something?”
“No need to listen Joan. RUN!”
“You dropped your book!”
“Forget the book! Run!”
In the early to mid 90’s I got my first computer. Donovan built her from components and packed “Baby” with every program he had and then some. I had no knowledge of computers and so while he was installing everything he made me take notes. What a guy! I had a business that required an on-line presence and he graciously offered his services. Back then it was Pentium something and discs for backup. Baby weighed a ton! They were called towers and she was a tower alright.
I was amazed at the freedom she gave me. I had a Talent Agency at the time. It was no longer couriers but images over a built-in fax program. I could be on-line, via a dial-up, which I can still hear ringing in my ears to this day and had the option to pickup a phone call via my Lan line through a pop up asking me to pickup or take a message. All extremely fascinating. If I got into trouble Donovan had set up a remote so that he had access to my system whenever I needed help. Watching the cursor moving things around was a little weird, but Donovan was doing his best to detangle me.
As I got more and more comfortable with Baby, I saw a program that I was unfamiliar with. It was called POWOW. I asked him what that was all about. A Chat program he said. Hmm a what? Yes, he said just run it and makeup a name and create a password. Oh, I said. I wasn’t particularly interested in “Chatting” with “People” I knew nothing about. So, I left it.
As time went on, I became more and more curious about POWOW, sitting around on my desktop. A kind of fear I was unfamiliar with, was making me increasingly curious. What the heck could happen? After all, Donovan wouldn’t put me in danger. Would he? So, I got up my nerve and ran the program. Filling in a name? As I was a sort of LoneWolf I chose that. Nope. So I added a “y”. So I became LoneWolfy. Good enough I thought and not really suggestive in any way. Maybe these “Chatters” would leave me alone. So, it runs. I see all kinds of categories for “rooms”. All kinds of rooms. Music rooms, kids chat, Family rooms, Vet rooms, Alcoholic Anonymous rooms, Gay rooms, you name it! I picked a Family room section. SAFE.
For some reason I picked The Dragonlady’s Lair. A little risky but it was a family room after all. Bravely I connected. Suddenly my screen was filled with dialogue. I watched very tentatively but was very leery. I felt like I was intruding on other people’s lives so I quickly left. Closed the program and sighed a great sigh of relief.
I left that alone for some time. BUT as they say, curiosity got the better of me. Gradually I started feeling welcome. They chatted about their kids. The concerts they’d been to or just everyday occurrences. They started to call me Lone. Ah! A nickname already! These people were from all over. Seemed to mostly be the States but, however. I began to type in.
Friendly bunch. I cruised around a bit checking out other rooms. POWOW was frequently updating its capabilities. Instructions to download Beta this or that. Fortunately, there were, what we referred as Techy friends in The Lair and they could guide us through the installations. Also frightening. You could have a Private chat, share websites together and we all learned how to build a site. Updates brought robot voices, coloured text and other capabilities I can’t even recall what else. Emoticons weren’t the thing then. We all had a very long list of strings of letters like OMG, Tc, Rotflmao etc and we stored them in F keys. It was fascinating how the robot voice could translate the OMG to actually say Oh My God.
The Dragon Lady’s Lair became my on-line home. Much like Face Book is today but different. Information, advertisements and pleas for donations weren’t a part of the program. It was simply an on line community. People helping people intellectually and emotionally.
Here’s where Kelly comes into the picture. She created the Dragonlady’s Lair. It was her room and her rules. Anyone causing trouble or being abusive in any way was bumped out by the program. As it turns out we all eventually discovered that she was on Oxygen 24/7 and started the room to keep herself busy and to try to help people in any way she could. Although Kelly was fragile in a physical way, she was a mental giant. We all loved her dearly. She was the Boss and was to be taken seriously. She helped me over many hurdles, as she did others. She even helped me recover from an on-line/off-line romance that went terribly wrong. Yet another story about giving your self away to people who can manipulate you, if you let them. She saw it coming. Who takes advise? But this is not my story.
What I know
At one point she lived in California. Where? I’m not sure. I do know that she was a Hippy. She made leather Chaps, dresses and other types of leather clothing and jewelry with stones she gathered. Her nick name was Little Britches. In her lifetime she’d been a waitress, and long haul truck driver, an endurance horse rider and who knows what else. He hubby was an Engineer and Todd towered over her tiny presence physically. Todd was a gentle spirit. They’d raised Apoloosas for a time but the dream was to own a small log cabin, somewhere where peace and tranquility prevailed. Well they found it in the south-east corner of Idaho. It stood on “K” mountain and with a view of the mountains of Montana. A precious Border Collie named “Taz”, 10 cats, 3 horses and whatever wild life came to their door.
That part of Idaho was ranching country. They lived outside of a town called Salmon, with a population of about 2800. Kelly got herself a job working with computers. Quickly mastering technical skills, she was able to install, repair and take a computer apart in no time. Somewhere along the line she made the decision to be a force behind improving the internet situation in the Salmon area. No small feat. She needed the power lines and the cattlemen behind her. She was responsible for establishing the first Internet Provider in the area. All this from a 5 ft, 100 lbs wet, determined woman.
I guess the hippy days in California and the fact that she smoked both cigarettes and weed took its toll eventually. But not before she won the war. Not before I found a friend. Not before I got to visit that little place of heaven a few times.
These pictures are etched in my mind. They will live there forever. They will always remind me that home is where the heart is. It was my home for a short & sweet time and being there brought me contentment & a feeling of peace. My friend Greg commented that “It sure looks like a corner of Paradise there. You’ll carry this trip in your soul forever.” Yes, I will…I spent another 2 weeks there over New Years 2000 and another two Summer visits and funny! but it was still like “coming home” for me.
Her last Christmas Todd asked me to come to visit. They arranged and paid for everything. He said she wanted me to come. I had no money but that wasn’t even a consideration. My family was not impressed. Miss Christmas? Fly away on Christmas Eve? Then forget dinner we eat at 7pm and you’ll be at the airport.
Yes, I said.
A usual they had to drive 4 hours to pick me up. Salmon was 4 hours or so from the nearest international airports. Plus, it was Winter. The mountain drive through Montana to Salmon was hazardous but Kelly’s daughter was as determined a woman as Kelly herself. When we finally arrived at about 2 am I discovered that they’d held off their Christmas for me. We opened a couple of gifts and tucked in. I’m going to have to interject here. My own family couldn’t have dinner a little earlier on Christmas Eve. My mother gave me cab fare to get to the airport. These, practically complete strangers, drove miles to pick me up and held their Christmas until I arrived.
One evening after the festivities Kelly and I got to talking until way into the small hours. It was dark, quiet and cleared skied. She motioned to me to get a small box from under a table. Inside were several pieces of jewelry, including some rings which she’d made. Pick one, she said. I wear that ring all the time. Hardly ever take it off. People ask me about it constantly. Inside the band are the initials L.B. for Little Britches. I tell them about Kelly, her accomplishments and kindness. I tell them she was a 5’ 100lb wet force of energy. I tell them she was strong till it was her time to go. I tell them of her generosity of spirit. I tell them that she was a force of nature. I also tell them that I was blessed to have found her in a little chat room on-line called THE DRAGON LADY’S LAIR.
– my letter-
I will never forget you. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking about the way things are now technologically. We did have some fun times didn’t we? I imagine Taz and Chivon are with you now. I hope Taz is behaving and you’re having some great rides with Chivon.
You used to eye those unused saddles on the back porch. I know you wanted to ride. I guess that tiny roach you had from years ago is still in the jewelry box. Too bad we couldn’t have finished it off down by the creek as you’d hoped. I think of you often. I still wear that beautiful ring, always. It’s a symbol of warmth and strength for me. Thankyou for being you Kelly.
Love Jen xo
p.s. I still have the t-shirt that Nukie designed for the Lair, and the hat. Oh! And the Dragon Art work. One of your Dragon Babies with the amethyst crystal sits on my desk. And Kelly? Maybe one day I’ll come visit and bring you some white daisies like the one’s you had in the garden. TC, Jen xo
Sammiscribbles Prompt #102
“Ah! C’mon Jerry! Yah win some an
you lose some. You know that!”
“Yah I know Eddie, but this was prime!”
“Jerry. Every time you lose it was prime!”
“Ed? I worked on this one for over a year.
“O.K. Jer. Some just don’t transform
the way you want them to. Get it?”
“But I really liked the odds Ed. How could
I have been so wrong.”
“Yah always impress me. But yah can’t
make a silk purse outta a sow’s ear.
All that glitters ain’t gold.
Never mind there’s others.”
“Very funny! Very funny!”
“Funny? Hell no! I was impressed!”
“But I like this house John. It’s cute.”
“It may be cute Beth, but its odd somehow.”
“Why? Because of the colour?”
“Well, that yes, and it’s a mess.”
“John, of course it’s a mess. You would
be too left sitting with no one to care
about you. Like I do.”
“Beth. You’re trying to sweet talk me.”
“Yes you. You’re just too wonderful Beth.
What would I do without you?”
“You wouldn’t buy this adorable house.”
“O.K. My sweet. We’ll buy it, but on one
“Oh? What’s that?”
“When the locals give us the instructions
for a new paint job. You won’t complain.”
“Easily done John. Why would that bother
“Oh! I don’t know, but I think it has to do
with New Comers and you might have to
sacrifice something, somehow.”
“Oh John! You kill me!”
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #23 Apr. 18, 2019
“Hi Kelly! Did you get those shoe’s you wanted?”
“No, they were out of my size.”
“Awe, I know how much you wanted them.
Couldn’t they order a pair in your size, from
“No. Apparently they’re completely out of stock.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll survive.”
“Hey! How about we take in that new Art Show
downtown? They say it’s amazing! It’s called,
The Human Perspective.”
“What? A bunch of dummies hanging upside
down, overhead? Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m dead serious.”
“Now there’s, a perfect perspective.”
“Kelly! You kill me!”
Reena’s Exploration Challenge #83 Apr.18/2019
61 word “Charlatan writing prompt”
*Some words in this prompt may offend*
Why you swindler!
You fabricating, faker!
You unmitigated bounder!
How dare you, you
You imposter! You imitator!
You shamming shark!
You four-flushing phony!
You double-dealing hypocrite!
You Fucking asshole!!!
“That’ll be twenty bucks.”
“Yeah twenty. You only asked for
the cheap degradation deal.
another twenty and I will
take you to hell.”
“No, it’s ok I’m done.”
“Ryan. Please collect your things.”
“Yes, Miss Cross.”
“Ryan? Don’t doddle. You always doddle!”
“Yes, Miss Cross.”
“Ryan? Have you heard a word I’ve said in the last
ten minutes? It’s been at least ten minutes since I
first asked you to get yourself ready. Are you lost in
that tiny little head of yours?”
“Yes, Miss Cross.”
“Ryan. Listen to me please.”
“Yes, Miss Cross.”
“Okay, I’ve had enough. That black hole you refer to
as your mind, is nothing but empty space. Are you
listening to me?”
“Yes, Miss Cross.”
“Just leave Ryan, get out of my sight!”
“Yes, Miss Cross.”
©Jen Goldie 4/13/2019
Reena’s Exploration Challenge #22 posted April 11, 2019
“Ladies and Gentlemen please stay close as we approach this area.”
“What’s the big deal Pat? It’s a path with stones. It looks like cars or something have driven through here.”
“You always question things. If the man says to stay close, then for heaven’s sake stay close! Or would you rather be close to her, over there?”
“Where? Oh! “
“Pat! Eyes back in sockets. Just stay close to me. Okay? Too much to ask?”
“If you look closely, you’ll notice the stones are randomly set. That is, to say, they were never actually placed here.
I m-meant to s-say, they weren’t r-really put here by anyone, or anything in p-particular. I mean, oh never mind. Just stay close.”
“C’mon let’s go explore, Pat. How bout it?”
“Well Men! Looks like we lost two more. Ken, contact the next of kin”
Crimson’s Creative Photo Prompt #22 Apr. 10, 2019
It was 1976. It was The Royal Alexander Theatre in Toronto, Ontario. There I was standing inches from Katharine Hepburn, with buckling knees, I might add, having been pushed through the crowds by a “friend”. We’d just seen “A Matter of Gravity”.
The view from the second balcony was exceptional, sort of. I say exceptional, exceptionally high, that is. We made our way out of the theatre amongst the formerly dressed Theatre Crowd and proceeded to go home. That’s when we saw a gathering of people and the adventure began. I was coaxed into asking her for her autograph and she politely said “No”. She must have seen the look of horror on my face. She quickly remedied the discomfort by saying that I should give my Program to the Box Office and could pick it up tomorrow. Little did I know that the encounter would result in over 15 years of correspondence, as succinct as it was, most of the time. Miss Hepburn was known for her short greetings, even amongst her friends.
After the encounter we were on cloud nine. Thoughts of going home became, where can we get a drink and talk about this. We quickly found a bar and discussed the situation. After a few drinks we made a pact. We planned to hand-deliver 2 pink carnations after every remaining performance. We didn’t consider the fact that it was in the dead of Winter or how difficult it could be to buy 2 pink carnations at any given time. We were too young to worry about details. The goal was the goal. There wasn’t anything we couldn’t do if we set our minds to it. So, we set the pact, toasted to our resolution and went home.
I’m not quite sure where we got the carnations but one of us must have bought them on the way home. Home being a good forty-five minute subway ride from the downtown area. We hadn’t considered the travelling aspect of our venture, but that didn’t effect our determination.
We faithfully stood at the same location each visit. Not wanting to be in her face, we decided that a good distance from the front of house stage door would be more polite. Each time we casually presented her with the two carnations, unwrapped and respectfully visible.
As time went on she would stride towards us and jokingly chide us about spending our money on her. We’d quickly pass the time of day and Fisher, her driver, would escort her to the car. Yes, the car, just a simple sedan, nothing over blown. No pretense with this woman. She’d climb in, and one time she looked back and said, I’m just an old dog. Then off they’d go to The Windsor Arms Hotel. The hotel had a special suite for her visits.
It was interesting how people began to wonder who we were. It appeared to them that we must have been great friends as she’d come straight to us. Somewhat amusing, but she was that gracious and did as she pleased, much to the chagrin of her well dressed public. Somehow, she knew we simply were expressing our admiration in a small way and wanted nothing in return. She knew that instinctively.
As I said before, it was the dead of winter. One matinee day, we were standing in our usual spot and realized that her car and Fisher were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly Fisher comes running towards us waving us to come with him. As it turned out, she decided to leave by the back-stage door. So, we followed him. We made ourselves comfortable on a snow bank and waited. She came out and told us she wanted to get a nap before the evening show, accepted her flowers and headed to the car. The saddest thing was that the few mink clad theatre goers that happened to be out back began to bang on her car window. It was quite the show.
One extremely cold day, for some reason, we’d bought the carnations the day before. To keep them fresh we put them on the inside windowsill. HORRORS! They had frozen overnight and we had no option but to take them to her. So we tentatively made our way to the Theatre. She was as gracious as ever.
Towards the end of the run she asked us if we’d like to see the show. As we’d already seen it we hesitated. Well? She said a little confused. It was almost a slight on our part. Of course, we said and that was that. I’m inviting you to the final performance. You can pick up the tickets at the box office. Just ask for K.H. tickets, she said.
Well here we were at The Royal Alexander Theatre being ushered down to the front row, two carnations in hand. She’d given us seats down left of the stage, where the majority of here scenes were played. We felt a little out-of-place but knew, she knew, we’d be there. I must say we felt very special. She had a way of doing just that.
One thing she didn’t tell us, and why would she, was that Ms. Hepburn refused to work and indeed live, anywhere with temperatures above 60 degrees. We froze. She insisted that the stage door be open which, as I knew, was directly behind stage left, not far from where we were seated.
After the show Fisher made sure we had our goodbyes and Ms. Hepburn got her flowers from us. She told us, in a note, that all of the carnations were still beautiful, even the frozen one’s survived.
“You are very sweet-you two-standing out in the alley
with your toll.
I do really enjoy flowers.
And they last and last because I use very little heat.
So the collection of carnations grows and grows.
Even those two frozen ones survive – so do we –
don’t we – if someone takes care as you do of me.
You two make me happy.
Thank You. Katharine Hepburn”
The experience was very special. There was no pretense. No ulterior motives. Just another journey. We sent short letters, and the usual holiday greetings to her in New York, which she replied to. Some type written, perhaps by her personal assistant, Phyllis at the time, but always signed. I could see that her signature was getting shakier. One funny exchange, we’d asked how her foot was. Her hand written response was “The wheel chair version is rather fun.”
I continued to write. At one point in 1982 she wrote back, after having hurt her shoulder. “I’m fine – – the papers are slightly idiotic – – just a shoulder tear.” I saw her signature getting less and less steady.
The last letter I have is from a response dated III – 10 – 1994.
“Dear Jennifer – Thankyou –”
Born: May 12, 1907, Hartford, Connecticut
DIED June 29, 2003 (aged 96)
“Well young man! I’ve had just about enough of your silly games! You make up such nonsense. Honestly! You live in a world of fantasy, just like your father used to!”
“But Mom, it’s …”
“You’ll get that butt into your room RIGHT NOW!”
“Mom? It’s really gonna…”
“If you MOM! me one more time and don’t get moving, I might do something I’ll regret! Now Move!”
“Yes, Ma’am what?”
“Yes, Ma’am I’m sorry”.
“That’s better! Now Go!”
“Well, Mrs. Parker, there’s really nothing we can do here. It seems he just, um, slipped away. We can’t pretend to find anything that would account for his, um, death. G’day.”
BrewNSpew word prompt “Pretend” April 8, 2019