Readers’ Workouts – 3/3/15

by Carol4 Comments
So, here are my steps for the week. It could have been worse. I was so close on  Friday but not making it made me less motivated to do it on Saturday - I had already broken the streak. And here's my current workout plan. I just finished week 6, more or less. It snowed this past week. I'm still waiting for spring. Tuesday - 30 mins of weight machines and then 3.5 miles on the elliptical Wednesday - Did this workout from Self using a 10-lb plate and did reps instead of time to make it 30 mins. Thursday - 60 minutes on the elliptical Sunday - 4½ miles on the treadmill How has your week been? Readers’ Workouts is hosted by Joy at Joy’s Book Blog. Thanks!...
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Day 10 of Writing201: Poetry

by Carol1 Comment
I’m participating in WordPress.com’s Writing201: Poetry that finishes up this week. "Day 10 has arrived: let’s end the course with a bang. Sonnets, chiasmus, the future — en garde!" I skipped out on both the sonnet and chiasmus, but I finally came up with something for "future."   The sun shines on a new world, barren, desolate, deserted. All who once worshipped her once have now fled, flown across the galaxies in search of a new refuge. But still she burns, too brightly now, killing the few remaining lives she has spent millennia nourishing.    ...
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Cockroaches by Jo Nesbø

by Carol6 Comments
Fictional detectives fall into many categories; the competent police force detective, male or female; the female amateur of so many light cozies, who may or may not have a bit of magic about her; the former professional who still "helps" with the occasional case; and the competent private investigator are just a few. Harry Hole is the anti-hero, a type of detective I'm drawn to. He's competent, but that's almost his downfall. He's so tenacious, like a pit bull with a bone, that even when he's sent on this sensitive case that everyone want to just go away, he digs and digs through all the muck and muddle to get to the truth. He's an alcoholic and develops a taste for opium, he is haunted by memories and by the unsolved rape of his sister who has Downs' syndrome. He's in a bad spot, so the folks in charge send him off to Thailand, figuring the drunk cop has no...
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Day 9 of Writing201: Poetry

by Carol3 Comments
I’m participating in WordPress.com’s Writing201: Poetry that finishes up this week. "Day 9. That can only mean one thing: let’s make a list. With a pair of scissors and a map." Today's assignment is about landscapes, found poetry and lists. Here are my two tries at found poetry. I might try one of the other parts later.  ...
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Thursday’s Tale: Learning How to Steal

by Carol3 Comments
Today's tale is another from The Turnip Princess and Other Newly Discovered Fairy Tales by Franz Xaver Von Schonwerth. "Learning How to Steal" is from the Tall Tales and Anecdotes section of the book. It's an odd story featuring the clever young man. Klaus was a farmer's son, but he was lazy and didn't want to learn how to do anything. The farmer sent Klaus on the road, hoping he would at least learn how to steal. Doesn't really seem like something you should hope for your son, but there you have it. Klaus eventually returned home, but his father was still mad at him, so he decided to head back out on the road, but first he needed to have new travel papers issued. When asked by the authorities what he did for a living, he responded that he was a master thief. They all made fun of him and the judge was sure he couldn't be that great a thief. The judge...
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Day 8 of Writing201: Poetry

by Carol2 Comments
I’m participating in WordPress.com’s Writing201: Poetry that finishes up this week. "What’s in your drawer? Let’s praise it (to its face) with odes and apostrophes. Hello, Day 8!" This is not actually something that's in my drawer, it's entirely imaginary, but my first try, an ode to my pencil, just didn't work. I may have to try an ode another day. The Photo I was cleaning out the drawer, finding bits of the past buried under the jumble of today. I found it, that photo, torn and creased, hiding in the back corner. We were so young then, you and I. Do you remember? I hadn't thought about you for ages, hadn't missed you, hadn't wondered what you were doing, who you were with. The sunset has dulled, the sand darkened, but we're still smiling, hand in hand. Do you remember?...
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