A Story of Dogged Persistence
Category: Uncategorized
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They spent much of their time enjoying themselves, hiking, entertaining, traveling, sometimes doing volunteer work.
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Daily writing promptIf you had the power to change one law, what would it be and why?
which has, twice in my lifetime, resulted in presidentical candidates who lost the popular vote being handed the presidency.
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It was built in the late 19th or early 20th century. It has a large back yard with space for a garden and a secure fence. There is a lot of green around it, but it is still within walking distance of shops and cafes and at least one library and one rep movie house. Internet access is good. The kitchen is big and up to date, with lots of counter & storage space. Two ovens would be nice.
In addition to the kitchen there is a living room, a bedroom, two studies, and two bathrooms. The climate allows for distinct seasons and snow once or twice a year, but the winters are not too harsh. It is close to relatives and friends, and in a highly literate area.
A pleasant, silent, honest, non-judgmental housekeeper comes in every other day to clean.
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Daily writing promptYou get some great, amazingly fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?
Open the boutique bottle of whiskey we’ve been saving. Make Manhattans.
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Daily writing promptAre there any activities or hobbies you’ve outgrown or lost interest in over time?
When I was a teenager, I took riding lessons once a week for about a year. This was not one of those upscale places where young ladies wear riding habits and learn to sit very straight on a thoroughbred. I wore my oldest jeans, a plaid shirt, boots, a floppy hat and in cold weather, an ancient overcoat, and it was about saddling the horse and staying on. The stables were owned by a family we knew, and I remember it as a frayed, friendly place. It smelled of horses, hay, and, on especially hot and sunny days, the cotton field nearby. I learned to ride on a black mare who only once ran away with me, and who always came back to nudge me gently with her long, blunt nose when I fell off. One of my favorite memories is from that time, a moment of resting in late dusk, sitting on a fence near the woods at the edge of a field, stroking the mare’s head and hearing church bells in the distance.
Horses are an expensive, elaborate hobby, requiring commitment and equipment. Life went on, and I went on. But I do remember with affection that strange bump in my life where I spent a year riding that horse.
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I also prefer dark to milk chocolate.
In my youth, I could eat anything I wanted to eat and remain slender. I made the most of it, keeping up a steady diet of chocolates, mints, jawbreakers, taffeys, toffees, brickles, Necco Wafers, Lifesavers, Butterfingers, fudge, cordials, etc. It wasn’t until fairly recently that rising cholesterol & blood pressure, not to mention vanity, made me change my diet. I can’t have sweets without guilt anymore, but I figure I am luckier than most.
I have lovely memories of using Milky Way bars as a mid-afternoon pick-me-up.
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I love babies. I love puppies. I love kittens. I love my cat when she tries to endear herself to me by rolling over and looking at me upside down. I will waste hours watching videos of rescued animals restored to health and children saying the darndest things.
The “cuteness” I dislike is the depiction of a human form in which all nuance, all complexity, everything that makes an individual an individual is erased, leaving only an impersonal, blank, prettiness. This has its place, in advertisements, children’s books, stuffed animals, comics, funny cartoons, etc. In that context it can make me smile or even laugh.
In an adult context, however, and online, it’s frequently used as a cover for sheer nastiness. It makes me shudder the same way I gag when I think of licking a spot of sugar residue off a sheet of paper.
Some of the dumbest, most violent and threatening posts I have received have been from people who depict themselves as adorable, big-eyed schoolgirls in academy uniforms.
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One of the most prescient science fiction stories I ever read was written in the second half of the 20th century, well before the internet as we know it existed. In it, a terrorist has given the date and the time when he plans to destroy society. The future-cop protagonist naturally assumes this means some sort of weapon, a massive bomb, perhaps exploded on a subway or the center of a city.
In fact, all the terrorist does is take down the internet – not of course, called the “internet” in the story, but still, the internet. In that futuristic, science fictional vision of the 21st century, you see, everyone carries their own phone and everyone is in constant contact with everybody else. On the time and date predicted, that contact is cut off.
Chaos ensues. Businesses, transportation, government, the judicial system, public services, entertainment, the media, can’t function.
But more important than all that, neither can human beings. For the first time in their lives, people cannot communicate instantly with anyone other than other human beings who are within a few feet or yards from them.The result is not pretty.
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A long walk in the afternoon, stopping at a wine bar or cafe at the end of the day for a glass of rose or a decaf cappuccino. An hour of reading there.
Then the walk home, stopping to talk to a friend or two.
Dinner is leftovers, something delicious I made the day before but don’t have to bother cooking now. For dessert, a single chocolate from a box, something with dark chocolate and cream filling. No coconut or nuts. Nothing nubbly.
A movie or some streaming whodunnit on the sofa with Michael. Then bed.
Simple. Perhaps boring. But you asked.
Pam Troy 