If the Shoe Fits (two)

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Posted in Freaky Friday: Tales of the odd and unexpected

If the Shoe Fits

“I like Cinderella, I really do. She has a good work ethic.
I appreciate a good, hard-working gal. And she likes shoes.
The fairy tale is all about the shoe at the end, and I’m a big shoe girl”
Amy Adams

 

Little Red Riding Shoes

Meanwhile, in the deepest of forests, a young girl was on her way to the shoemakers house.

Hop, skip and a twirl,
Little Red Riding Shoes was about to hurl!
Too much fun, pardon the pun
Can cause a headache most foul
And make your stomach scream and growl!

To be continued…

If the Shoe Fits (one)

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Posted in Freaky Friday: Tales of the odd and unexpected

If the Shoe Fits

“I like Cinderella, I really do. She has a good work ethic.
I appreciate a good, hard-working gal. And she likes shoes.
The fairy tale is all about the shoe at the end, and I’m a big shoe girl”
Amy Adams

The Evil Red Shoe Queen

“Mirror mirror on the wall
Am I still the evilest of them all?
And more precisely, are my shoes
The shiniest in the world?

The Red Shoe Queen demanded the mirror.

An image appeared into the mirror’s glass and with an evil grin responded:

“Undoubtedly, you are quite evil, my dearest Queen. But, there is another….”

The Queen stared at the mirror, wanting it to crack, from a mere look.

Writers for Throwback Thursday

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Posted in Throwback Thursday: Treasures from the archives

“I’m a writer and, therefore,
automatically a suspicious character”
Alfred Hitchcock

Writers for Throwback Thursday

This weeks TBT is dedicated to us wannabe writers:
Enjoy these gems from the archives!

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, and a Writer
Write More, Complain Less
Stuck Between a Poem and a Hard Place
I am Out of Order for Today

Mr Plow

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Posted in Daily Photo

“I’m Mr. Plow and I’m here to say,
I’m the plowingest guy in the USA.
I got a big plow and I move a lot of things,
just like your cow if you have one!”
Homer Simpson

Mr Plow

When you are in trouble
And it’s snowing full throttle
No need to struggle
Just call on the double

Mr Plow

Here is how
Feel the wow
Before you raise
An eyebrow
All gone is
The snow

Mr Plow

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En Route

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Posted in Daily Photo

“A railroad station?
That was sort of a primitive airport,
only you didn’t have to take a cab
20 miles out of town to reach it.”
Russell Baker

En route

Public transit, oh what joy!
But, before you shout ahoy
Read this story of ploy

Early morning in
I was really in a hurry
The venue was set in the city
And feeling a little giddy
After all travelling by train
Was not something to do in vain
Especially in the middle of winter
With temperatures below zero
And myself certainly no sprinter
And even less of a hero

Reaching the train station
After half jogging the way
Then I heard the notification
The train had been delayed
No indication as to arrival time
But they told us, all was fine
Just a minor snafu
The train would be there in a few

A few minutes went by
On the platform standing by
Then after a while
Waiting for the train to arrive
I was wishing I had taken the car
I would have been so very far

Oh what fun and joy!
Toes, fingers and nose freezing
The snow storm’s intensity increasing
Now I know, this was a winter’s ploy!

enroute-1

Red Gloves

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Posted in Daily Photo

“My little pretty red gloves
bring me joy and warmth;
after all it is winter!”
Gun Roswell

Red Gloves

“This is when the gloves come off!” She stated with a huff and puff.

Throwing down the protective shielding onto the ground, she was about to defy all beliefs of what would happen when exposing yourself to the elements.

It was that time of the year, when the cold season had taken over. There was no hiding from the white powdery substance covering most of the northern world. The only thing to do to survive was to put as much woven garments on top of the skin as possible. The degrees sinking down below zero in the tens, sometimes even hundreds, this season lasted for a length of six moons.

But those damn mittens! How they irritated her, especially today. They were always in the way. Grabbing things was not easy, not to mention holding a shovel.

She looked at the discarded gloves laying on the ground. Red against the whitest of snow. Pretty were they, she thought and kept staring at them, while her fingers were getting numb. Finally, as beckoning her, she scooped the offending mittens from the pile of snow, pulled them on and admired the colour and the feel of them.

Once again, she was happy in her gorgeous red mittens.

gloves

A Visit to Santa Claus (TBT)

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Posted in the Throwback Thursday

“Believe in love. Believe in magic. Hell, believe in Santa Claus.
Believe in others. Believe in yourself. Believe in your dreams.
If you don’t, who will?”
Jon Bon Jovi

A Visit to Santa Claus

The jolly Saint Nick
For some, Father Christmas
To others, Santa Claus

Call him what you will
You will always get your fill
Of happy thoughts and enjoyment
And possibly a nice payment
On Christmas Eve
If you only believe

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“Tonttu” (TBT)

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Posted in the Throwback Thursday

All writers have this vague hope that the elves will come in the night and finish any stories”
Neil Gaiman

“Tonttu”

An elf is an elf
Of course of course
Not staying on the shelf
For sure, for sure
Come and join the circle
Even if you are a mere mortal
Tonight the elves are out
And about

tonttu

Holiday Season for Throwback Thursday

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Posted in the Throwback Thursday

“Christmas isn’t a season.
It’s a feeling”
Edna Ferber

holiday-1

Holiday Season for Throwback Thursday

For this week’s Throwback Thursday, I have chosen a posts dedicated to the Holiday Season: Enjoy!
Happy Holidays to One and All!

Elvis has left the Konebuilding
Elves
“Tonttu”
A Visit to Santa Claus
A Christmas Tale: Can I have some Figgy Puddin’, please

A Christmas Tale: Can I have some Figgy Puddin’, please (TBT)

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Posted in the Throwback Thursday

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” Charles Dickens

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A Christmas Tale: Can I have some Figgy Puddin’, please

pudding-2

The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.

Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch.
I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.

After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.

But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.

After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.

My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”

I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.

When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.

Merry Pudding and God bless us everyone!

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