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    Katherine Gregor
    Katherine Gregor created a new blog post, Early Autumn Wedding

    Early Autumn Wedding

    Posted in Blogs on Sunday, 23 September 2018

    "Are you having any readings?" "No." "Have you brought some music?" "No." "Do you have rings?" "Yes." The elderly registrar smiles with a hint of relief.  At least one traditional feature.  She tells those present that photos are not permitted during the actual signing of the register but they can be posed for afterwards. "Does anyone have any questions?" "No." "In that case, shall we begin?" We all stand in our appointed positions. Just the couple and two witnesses.  "We asked you  because you're the first people we met after we moved here," the bride and groom said. "Also, this way, none of our other friends can possibly be offended at not being asked." Given these circumstances, H. and I feel deeply privileged to be here. There are no other guests.  They felt disloyal about inviting friends and leaving out family.  She doesn't want her family's aloofness to sabotage her special day.  He knows his family aren't ready to hear the news.  Too much pain to come to terms with yet, too much forgiveness to be granted.  This marriage is a right built on wrongs.  Inevitable wrongs that had to be righted and could not be righted without some wrongs.  We're only human.   He wears grey chinos and a blue shirt that brings out the colour of his eyes and the silver of his hair.  She bought a terracotta top for the occasion, as well as a blue-grey skirt.  Something new.  Nothing old or borrowed.  No flowers.  This is a second marriage for both.  A couple of decades ago, both had a day of white lace, speeches, three-tier cakes and pink champagne.  A day to please her husband's family and his wife's tradition.  Today is for them alone.  The ceremony takes about twenty minutes. The registrar speaks the vows and they repeat after her slowly, meaning every word.   Plain, matching gold bands are slipped on fingers.  A tender kiss exchanged. This is a second wedding.  The youthful trust has grown into firm intention.  The candy-coloured spring blossoms have been replaced with the deeper, earthier hues of early autumn.  Passion with compassion.   Scribe Doll

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    Virginia M Macasaet
    Virginia M Macasaet created a new blog post, Sick Leave

    Sick Leave

    Posted in Blogs on Thursday, 20 September 2018

    I’m fine. Honestly, I rarely get sick. My sick leaves get converted to cash.   Frankly, I’d rather fake it. Every now and then I need a time out. Errands or just plain silence from work is good.   I can work from home while on my supposed sick leave. And at the same time, I can kick up my feet and relax. I can putter around like I used to.   I dreamt I lost my mobile phone. Dream dictionary says it’s a sign that I’ve lost touch with some aspect of myself. So I’m taking that as a sign.   Today, I’m going to hop over to the bank, get my nails done. Sort the clutter on my table, maybe I’ll sneak to the mall. This is going to be a great sick leave day for me!

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    Monika Schott
    Monika Schott commented on the blog post, The magic mirror

    Yes, lived in the same house for many years now, which is quite different to the years of moving before that! Definitely can't say l see my neighbours day in day out, or know them all. ?

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    Stephen Evans
    Stephen Evans commented on the blog post, The Other Side of Silence 

    Not as much skipping as you might think :) though some characters interested me more than others. There is enough humor sprinkled in to keep me going. and these bursts of vision of hers are affecting. She is as nuanced as Austen, yet in just a phrase or two she can carry you up out of that personal/social dimension to a different mastery. Well worth reading. Makes me want to read her criticism also.

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    Rosy Cole
    Rosy Cole commented on the blog post, The Other Side of Silence 

    Interesting. But literary arbiters since the two world wars might consider this discursive approach to novel-writing woolly and undisciplined. I wish I had your patience with such. I bet you're doing your usual thing of skip-reading, though :-)

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    Rosy Cole
    Rosy Cole commented on the blog post, Reality Check

    You have clearly articulated what so many people around the world are experiencing at the moment as individuals and as communities. If you are in Manila, I do hope you have managed to stay safe. Prayers.

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    Rosy Cole
    Rosy Cole commented on the blog post, Once More with Feeling

    Good to see you, Rina. As you may have gathered, I'm an unwavering advocate of writing, first and foremost, as therapy. If you feel you can share that with some others, so much the better. x

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    Katherine Gregor
    Katherine Gregor commented on the blog post, The magic mirror

    That means you've lived in the same house for all these years! Haven't moved house around 50 times so far, I cannot begin to imagine what it must feel like to see the same neighbours, day after day. I guess it must be lovely. Beautifully written piece, Moni.

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    Virginia M Macasaet
    Virginia M Macasaet created a new blog post, Reality Check

    Reality Check

    Posted in Blogs on Saturday, 15 September 2018

    With so much work to accomplish every day, my weekends have been anything but restful. I have been waking up too early every morning in a rush because of so many things to do. How unlikely of me.   I am disappointed with myself because I have allowed myself to reach this exhausting point. A year down the road feels like a decade. I value the work that I do but, admittedly, it’s taking a toll on me.   Maybe it’s just another hiccup in life. Maybe it’s just an off year. I can’t help but at times wonder…   Could there be yet another something for me out there? Something that will keep me motivated. Something what will shift me to a better place.   Not just work wise but all around life kind of thing. You see, truth is, I’m on my own. Not that it’s a bad thing, it just is.   I know God hears. Eventually things will shift again. Just have to sit it out and ride the tide.    

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    Stephen Evans
    Stephen Evans commented on the blog post, Once More with Feeling

    Glad to hear it! I feel the same way - it helps to clear away the noise - and life is so noisy these days.

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    Stephen Evans
    Stephen Evans commented on the blog post, The Other Side of Silence 

    She has an interesting way of suddenly expanding her vision to a wider scope, yet without intruding with the authorial voice as much as was common on that era. Maybe I like it because it sounds Emersonian. The book was published in the year he last visited England I think.

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    Rosy Cole
    Rosy Cole commented on the blog post, Perennial Pleasures

    Hummingbirds would be wonderful. As well as a variety of smaller birds, some of whom nest in the bushes, we cultivate wood pigeons and peaceful white doves. They are surprisingly tame and companionable. And, strangely, they keep noisy and aggressive seagulls at bay. Thanks for your appreciation :-)

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    Rosy Cole
    Rosy Cole commented on the blog post, The Other Side of Silence 

    Thank you. It was kind of you to supply longer text. I think it means what I first thought it might, but then wondered if another point was being made. Why does George Eliot sound like Emerson in this piece? I suppose they were more or less contemporaries, but on different continents, with different perspectives and preoccupations.

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    Virginia M Macasaet

    Once More with Feeling

    Posted in Blogs on Sunday, 09 September 2018

    I can’t give up on writing. It’s what keeps me alive. No wonder I’ve been feeling out of sorts. I haven’t written in a long time!   I got stuck. I fell into a pit and got stuck. I kept climbing back up but kept falling back in. I think I’ve finally made it out of the dungeon.   Once more with feeling I am going to write. I feel a little bit rusty but I can’t give up. Not this time around. I’m not getting any younger.   Not that it’s about age. But who knows, one day my forgetfulness with reign. And then I’ll totally forget about writing. I’m back.   Once more with feeling.

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    Monika Schott
    Monika Schott created a new blog post, The magic mirror

    The magic mirror

    Posted in Blogs on Saturday, 08 September 2018

    My kitchen window is the portal into another time and place. I’ve been looking through it and writing about what I see for years. Even when I don’t see any physical activity apart from the day that is – a gluttonous sky thundering over the Chinese Elm, the first blossoms on the apricot tree or chooks basking in the dusty hole they’ve dug to bathe in sunshine – I see so much. The three little boys that once jumped in and out of a portable swimming pool in summers of years gone, white in a heavy layering of sunscreen and laughing with each butt print made on the hot concrete path. They’d ride scooters and bikes from the back gate onto a track in the grass, have parties with friends and chip golf balls on a make-shift putting green. They’d hang washing on the clothes line while I washed dishes over my window, throwing the ball for Teddi and hitting it out with a cricket bat when they got tired of throwing. They’d bring washing in, all folded and ready to sort. They still do. Today through my kitchen window is one of them with his love pulling weeds together by that clothes line, cute in their occasional smiles and exchanges. He’s older and wiser now, although sometimes when a shopping trolley full of garden stakes and an azalea bush plucked from an anonymous front yard appears after a night out with friends, I do wonder.     Our house, it has a crowd     There’s always something happening     And it’s usually quite loud … Our house, in the middle of our street Madness sings over the radio, reminding me of how time moves at a snail’s pace, and yet ever moving with the rotating Earth. This magic window of mine shows glimpses only I can see. Memories of little boys that are now as men, a second 21st birthday in weeks. Waves in the unseen pulse through, hurts from deep love and happiness scar in a life meandering as a unique Jackson Pollock drip painting. Sharp pains clash in lines of reds and blues highlighted in ochres, the clash of words that gnaw within the heart.     It’s a fine line between pleasure and pain     You’ve done it once you can do it again It’s the Divinyls now, prodding the longings, whether known or not, for him or her, that thing in the corner. To be by the beach; to be home. A longing for peace without turmoil, peace even when the ocean roars its endless rhythm of now and what’s to come. Longing frees the honesty within the heart, to smile when not smiling. Perhaps that’s a contentment, even with emotions brimming and wanting to spill. Whether I’m looking through my kitchen window at those boys of yesterday and today, or for the rabid clucks of chooks being chased by Teddi and Schnooze, all in good jest of course, it’s always wide open and full of reflection. I can be cooking butterflied lamb that’s been marinating for 36 hours for dinner and whizzing past the window from bench to stove, stopping at the kitchen sink to wash hands of sticky garlic oils, and still, all manner of stark brutality can flood in to choke. A gulp of rosé from the antique crystal glass can smooth it away, spritely and clear compared to the robust of swallow of the same wine from my brown short glass last week. Senses swirl in the heady grilling, aromas fill nostrils to where I can smell no more. This evening it’s simple burgers browning in a pan with bacon and pineapple and it’s not until one of those boys walks in from work that I realise I’m immersed in the Monika-world. ‘Mmm, that smells nice,’ he says. ‘I can smell it from the back gate.’ His hello kiss brings me back to today with bonds to yesterday. Another sip of rosé. That magic mirror can show possibilities of what’s to come, of more little children running through the yard or by the beach in their little Hawaiian shirts, more dogs and chooks and golf all fusing as that next part of a growing life. My magic mirror keeps me wide open to possibilities, many I cannot imagine. There’s always a kiss of tomorrow, the kiss from far away that should have been, could be. Kisses maketh thy life.     Here comes the rain again     Falling on my head like a memory     Falling on my head like a new emotion     I want to walk in the open wind     I want to talk like lovers do     I want to dive into your ocean     Is it raining with you        ~ Eurythmics  

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    Ken Hartke
    Ken Hartke commented on the blog post, Perennial Pleasures

    Beautiful garden — my hummingbirds would be in paradise there instead of the paltry selection I have to offer.

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    Rosy Cole
    Rosy Cole commented on the blog post, Perennial Pleasures

    Thanks :-). Yes, all the photos are my garden over the last few weeks. In fact, some parts of it look even better since we had a downpour or two. The grass revived so quickly. I'm not an adventurous gardener and tend to stick with flowers that need minimal attention and bloom longest once growth is established. The bulk of the work comes in the early stages,. Flourishing colour is the criterion. I think, too, with a small garden, there's a limit to how many tall plants look good. Begonias fascinate me because they have such variety and mimic many other species. They just go on burgeoning for several months.

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Latest Comments

Virginia M Macasaet Reality Check
20 September 2018
Thank you Rosy, Few fallen trees, not too bad compared to the North...
Virginia M Macasaet Once More with Feeling
20 September 2018
Thank you Rosy, Stephen! Always feels good to be back home :-)
Monika Schott The magic mirror
19 September 2018
Yes, lived in the same house for many years now, which is quite different to the years of moving bef...
Stephen Evans The Other Side of Silence 
18 September 2018
Not as much skipping as you might think though some characters interested me more than others. Ther...
Rosy Cole The Other Side of Silence 
17 September 2018
Interesting. But literary arbiters since the two world wars might consider this discursive approach ...

Latest Blogs

"Are you having any readings?" "No." "Have you brought some music?" "No." "Do you have rings?" "Yes." The elderly registrar smiles with a hint o...
I’m fine. Honestly, I rarely get sick. My sick leaves get converted to cash.   Frankly, I’d rather fake it. Every now and then I need a time out....
With so much work to accomplish every day, my weekends have been anything but restful. I have been waking up too early every morning in a rush becaus...
I can’t give up on writing. It’s what keeps me alive. No wonder I’ve been feeling out of sorts. I haven’t written in a long time!   I got stuck. ...