Friday Fictioneers: Smokin’, Babe.

friday-fictioneersWelcome to Friday Fictioneers, the best free show in town. Check out the other stories on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, Addicted to Purple. Join us, or cheer us on. I always appreciate feedback that is constructive or kind. Please leave a comment.

I’m on my way to BlogHer 2014. If you’re going to be there too, please shoot me a message, and maybe we can meet in person!

©Marie Gail Stratford

©Marie Gail Stratford

 Smokin’, Babe (98 words)

“Seriously Gerry! You’ve gotta stop eating that shit!”

“Don’t make me choose, baby; I love the stuff.”

“You may love it, but I hate it! Look at my lips!”

“What’s the problem? I thought chicks were paying big bucks for pouty lips?” Gerry swat Dee’s ass and grinned.

“You’re not funny! If I wanted duck lips I’d pay for them.”

“You mean, I’d pay for them…” He smirked again.

“Jesus! I hope you have heartburn; you deserve it smart ass.”

“Take it easy darlin’. I love my Sriracha, and I love kissing your puffy– err, luscious lips– Quack-quack!”

*    *    *

If you enjoyed this post, please hit Like and then leave a comment; I love to hear what readers have to say.  Check out Tales From the Motherland’s Facebook page (my goal is 400 likes this year), and Twitter, where I struggle to keep it brief.

© 2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.

Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Dawn Quyle Landau or Tales From the Motherland.

 

 

Aside | Posted on by | Tagged , , , , , | 34 Comments

Friday Fictioneers: Missing

friday-fictioneersI’m back! After 3.5 weeks in Scandinavia, I’m home and finally catching up on blogging, writing, reading, and laundry. Not in that order. It was an incredible adventure and I will be writing about it, over the next few weeks. So, if you’re interested in Iceland, Denmark, Stockholm, Vikings, Game of Thrones, or good rye bread, tune in. The Iceland posts are up already, but there’s so much to share!  In the meantime, I am leaving next Wednesday for BlogHer 2014 in San Jose, CA. If any of you are attending, please let me know; it would be so great to meet in person!

IMG_6042Speaking of meet and greets, I was very fortunate to meet fellow Fictioneer Björn Rudberg, while we were in Stockholm. He’s a busy guy, and I was thrilled when he and his wonderful partner, Charlotta, had some time to spare, on our last day in the city. We met for lunch, and while it was much too short, our time was a relaxed and lovely way to end my trip! My son and I both really enjoyed meeting them, and I hope we will have a chance to do it again one day.

Now, back to reality.  Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the multi-talented, and all-around good egg, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Each week she presents a photo prompt, on her blog Addicted to Purple, and participants are encouraged to write a 100-word story; to visit the other stories and share feedback, and to do your best work. Visit her blog to read the other stories in this series, or join in the fun. This week’s photo comes from Adam Ickes’ hysterical photo. I always welcome feedback that is positive or constructive; please leave a comment and let me know you were here.

©Adam-Ickes

©Adam-Ickes

Missing (100 words, exactly)

“It doesn’t make any sense Sargent. It’s like they just evaporated!”

Detective Bill Jeffers held the thick file and scowled.

The case had consumed him for three years, but he was no closer to solving it than the day they’d found the Pryor’s deserted house– keys, wallets and cell phones sitting on the counter, but no sign of the young family.

“His business invoices suggest things were not going well, and a month earlier Jennie Pryor reported that someone rammed her car and fled.”

“But Tim Pryor vanished too, Jeffers.  Face it, these folks didn’t sneak off for alone time.”

•    •    •

Note: This story was inspired by two recent stories in the news, of families who disappeared without a trace, and with little information. The first case, a CA family in 2010, was solved last year, when (sadly) the bodies of the parents and two young children were found in shallow graves. The second story, of an Alaskan family, is still unfolding.  In both cases, the adults and young children disappeared suddenly, and left few clues. My story sprung from reading those headlines… I’ve borrowed from the photo, but decided to be a bit more obtuse. Thanks for reading!

*    *    *

If you enjoyed this post, please hit Like and then leave a comment; I love to hear what readers have to say.  Check out Tales From the Motherland’s Facebook page (my goal is 400 likes this year), and Twitter, where I struggle to keep it brief.

© 2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.

Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Dawn Quyle Landau or Tales From the Motherland.

 

 

 

Aside | Posted on by | Tagged , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Friday Fictioneers: My Ever Practical Boy

Here I am, again, in Denmark and trying to keep up with Friday Fictioneers! This week was a bit more challenging, with intermittent wifi and trying to type on my friend’s Danish keyboard. The next few days, we’ll be in Stockholm, and then home, later next week. Thanks for being patient, as I try to get to your wonderful stories… I always appreciate thoughtful, constructive feedback, so please leave a comment and tell me what you think! If you’re interested in reading more about my travels, check out my posts Incredible Iceland Part 1 and Part 2. I’d love to hear what you think!

Check out the other wonderful FF stories on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, Addicted to Purple. Rochelle chooses a photo prompt each week (this week, Kelly Sands contributed) and then keeps us in line, with her wise words. Stories should be 100 words, with a beginning, middle and end, and we all make an effort to read each other’s stories. Join in! 

If I typed without effort, this is what it might look like with this Danish keyboard: I might have to tell you that youøre missing the ØquotationØ marks, or that the commas’ are not where they usually are… that there are symbols likeÆ instead of colon,  or € å ø § in the places where <i usually find my other symbols. When <i try to capitalize my i, it comes out like <i.  See, not easy! Next week… <iøll be very jet lagged, but happily typing from the home. What a grand adventure, but it will be nice to sleep in my own bed!  As always, thanks so much for you patience and kind support. 

©Kelly Sands

©Kelly Sands

My Ever Practical Boy (100 words, exactly)

 

”What about that one– do you see the dragon? There on the left.”

”That’s not a dragon, Mom, it’s a Raptor. See how the head is smaller and the jaw is powerful?”

Jake pointed to the outline of the dinosaur and continued.

”Raptors are related to birds, Mom. The bigger ones could tear a cow to pieces– if cows lived at the same time as dinosaurs.”

”It looks a bit like a komodo dragon, too… an angry one. Do you see it?”

”I think it’s just rain, Mom. Those are definitely storm clouds.”

”You’re so practical, kiddo. Let’s get inside!”

*    *    * 

If you enjoyed this post, please hit Like and then leave a comment; I love to hear what readers have to say.  Check out Tales From the Motherland’s Facebook page (my goal is 400 likes this year), and Twitter, where I struggle to keep it brief.

© 2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.

Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Dawn Quyle Landau or Tales From the Motherland.

 

Posted in Blog, Blogging, Daily Observations, Flash fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Mothers, Parenting, Tales From the Motherland, Writing | 50 Comments

Incredible Iceland, Part 2.

Iceland-political-map If you read part 1 of my amazing trip to Iceland, with my seventeen year old son, Little Man, then you know that we were on a break-neck schedule, and that Iceland was so much more than we ever expected. If you haven’t read Part 1, you should; Iceland is not to be missed!  Once we got moving, on day one, we realized we’d sorely underestimated how much we could do in four days and we were determined to fit in as much as possible. Horse-back riding, hiking, sightseeing, tasting, and climbing. On day three we woke at 4:00am and headed east for Skaftafell, a portion of Vatnajökull, the largest glacier on Iceland– representing nearly 1/6 of the entire island and one of the largest glaciers in the world! I’d been researching Iceland (minimally), before our trip, and had come across a combination Glacier Climb + Iceberg Lagoon tour, that = the Grand Slam tour, by Glacier Guides. It seemed to be a don’t miss thing to do; it was! No matter what you’ve heard about the infamous “midnight sun–” the all-night light that Iceland experiences in peak summer– it’s impossible to truly prepare for it. You spend all day trying to fit in every possible thing that Iceland has to offer (a tall order!), but getting to sleep at the end of long days, is no easy task! Our internal clocks were turned around, but as tired as we were, it was nearly impossible to settle down when it’s fully light out. Light slips through the curtains constantly tricking you into thinking morning has come, and each day it’s tempting to fit in one more destination, as you travel and the light shines on. The night before our big glacier tour, I couldn’t settle down, couldn’t get to sleep. The fact that I’d have to be up at 4am and drive 4.5 hours only made it even harder to relax… and before I knew it the alarm was going off!  Tired doesn’t begin to describe how I felt, when we got in our car and headed East. The roads were empty and there didn’t seem to be any enforcement of speed limits; I drove like a bat out of hell Mario Andretti with determination and solitary focus, while my co-pilot went right back to sleep! It was not easy, but the scenery was astounding! Ancient lava fields; lava covered with mounds of Dr. Seuss mosses; fields of cairns; soaring peaks; endless, black sandy glacier fields, and deep green valleys are among some of the amazing sites that kept me engaged and awake for my drive. I wanted to stop and photograph something, every other turn in the road, though I knew we had to get to Skaftafell in time for our tour.

I’d read that there was no lunch provided, and thankfully we found a Quiznos shop at a gas station, heading out of Reykjavic. It was lucky in that we managed to get lunch, gas and much needed confirmation of which road to take. Even with our navigational, it was reassuring to have our route confirmed, rather than try to read the dizzyingly confusing names of places in Iceland. One thing that we found every where we went in Iceland: very nice people! The Icelandic people must be some of the kindest, most helpful– some of the loveliest people I’ve ever met! We made it to our Glacier bus only ten minutes before departure and they informed us that we had to hurry and get our things on board to go. While we’d prepared from home, we weren’t really ready to jump on the bus, and exhaustion left me foggy and scattered. It was a blur as we threw on our hiking boots, grabbed our water bottle and got on board. The sun screen, binoculars and a few other items we’d planned ahead for, were left in the car. Luckily for us, it was a cloudy day, and fresh water (we would learn) was plentiful on the glacier!

Geared up and ready to go... that's the glacier, way off in the distance! This was work!

Geared up and ready to go… that’s the glacier, way off in the distance! This was work!

My husband is a climber. In fact, he is currently in Bolivia on a 3-week climb of some very high peaks. I am not a climber. Let me say that again, to be clear: I am not a climber. I prefer flat, winding trails, not ones that go up. Strapping on metal crampons and wielding an ice axe are not my thing–But I’m no weeny either. Thirty minutes later,  there I was headed up the enormous ice wall with metal spikes on my feet. I won’t lie, it was scary at times. Our guide was one more beautiful Scandinavian– let’s face it, they are unusually beautiful over here– but my focus was on the blue ice and deep crevasses that we had to avoid. The Icelanders are strikingly blasé about adventure and danger; I found it all a tad more alarming. While our guide was comfortable with the idea that if we fell into any of the deep holes along the icy surface, we were all wearing harnesses, so they could haul us out, I was not. I found myself very nervous for the first thirty minutes up or so. And then, I found my groove.

Below the spectacular icefall

Below the spectacular icefall

It was. Great. It was unbelievable! Hard work the whole way, but inspiring and stunningly gorgeous. I found myself overwhelmed by the close-up majesty of the ice, as well as its fragility. Our guide has been working on this glacier for 5 years and he had seen the ice melt back by alarming amounts. The photos of how much more ice there had been in the 1970s was that much more disturbing. Admittedly, I felt much as I do when I see clear-cut forest at home: a deep sadness for what we are losing on this magnificent blue earth, and so grateful that I could experience it.  What a thrill to be on the ice, exploring a history that is constantly changing! We filled our water bottles at one of the melting, rushing rives on the glacier, and that water was the best water I’ve ever tasted! We climbed to the icefall, which looked much like Khumbu icefall on Everest– stunning! The blue color of the ice, the formations, the mysterious quality of the scenery, is surreal and hypnotic. The sound of ice moving and creaking, of water melting and running down the glacier, in deep rivers that led to deeper holes. As a group, we snaked along behind our guide for four hours. My legs burned, my lungs did as well, as my heart rate went up and stayed there. In all, we hiked more than five miles up and down.  We lined up to look into a deep moulin (a hole that forms in the ice, often started by a rock and then made deeper by water melting a hole in the ice). This one was about 500′ deep and was thrilling and terrifying, at the same time, to look into. Our guide helped us across a thin, narrow bridge– one at a time, and then held us from behind as we looked into the hole– it was unreal! Have I mentioned that Icelanders are badass? They are. Frankly, being held by the back of my jacket, as I hang over a 500′ deep hole is scary; however, it was just another day at the office for our guide.  Badass.

It was an amazing day, and exhausting. It was four hours of hiking up, up, up and then working our way down, down, down… on four hours sleep. The ice axe was helpful in not losing my balance or in helping me leverage a little extra pull, but it was leg work… a day after the horseback riding, and on very tired legs.  Admittedly, there were moments when I just didn’t think I could do it, and others when I felt so exhilarated and thrilled, that I could have hiked on and on. The scenery was stunning the entire trip, the group fun and enthusiastic– from several locations around the globe. It was an especially amazing thing to do with my boy– something we will both, no doubt, remember for the rest of our lives. When we got back to the parking lot, we were immediately loaded into a 12 person van and headed to the iceberg lagoon. Driving along, it was miles of glacier fields: black sand, level flat and endless to the eye, on one side and the glacier on the other… it seemed that no matter how far we drove, the glacier continued.  The sheer enormity of it was truly unreal. When we pulled into the parking lot at the lagoon, the site was stunningly beautiful! A milky lake (sediment from the melting glacier) and spectacular blue, white and in some cases black/sooty icebergs floating on the still surface.

We geared up in our stylish red suits, and then hiked down to the icebergs...

We geared up in our stylish red suits, and then hiked down to the icebergs…

We all entered a large, open truck to get into our red space suits– or, that’s what they looked like, for our trip by zodiac, on the lagoon. Let me be very clear, some people looked much better in those suits than I did– my son for instance! I looked like a big red marshmallow! But they were incredibly warm. Toasty… even in the cold air. Then, it was another long hike down to the water. I was so exhausted by then, but I am sure I’ve never been anywhere like this lagoon– it was beyond amazing! We boarded the small boats, with limited talking… I think all of us were stunned by the size, color and beauty of the icebergs, in addition to the fact that few of us spoke the same language.

Yep, beautiful guides abound!

Yep, beautiful guides abound!

The tour consisted of a 30-40 minute in the boats, cruising around the lagoon, viewing individual icebergs and the lagoon at large. We paused twice as the glacier calved (when slabs break off) and the thunderous sound echoed across the water. The guides watched carefully, ready to pull away if the waves became too much. Our guide stopped at one point to pull a slab of ice from the water, and show us how crystal clear the ice was. He pointed out that the low levels of oxygen in the ice (just like the ice on the glacier) makes for the best ice in drinks! One woman on the glacier tour, actually loaded some into a Nalgene bottle, to enjoy with drinks later!  The colors were so beautiful, the time on the water so special. It seemed that no matter how many photos I took, none of them even began to capture what we were actually seeing– something I felt all day, as I tried to capture the experience.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

By the time we finish the tour, my legs were spent. The hike back up the hill just about did me in. I staggered to the van and I was out cold before we left the parking lot for the one hour drive back to our car. When I woke, we were back at our car and a two hour drive to the hotel, in Vik. Our lumpy beds were heavenly, after the endless day, but the hot tub– sublime!  Despite the bright night, I fell into bed dreaming of blue ice and magical landscapes that are other worldly. Each time I thought we’d seen the best… there was more. Part 3 will be our final day in Iceland. Check back to share more of Incredible Iceland.

*    *   *

If you enjoyed this post, please hit Like and then leave a comment; I love to hear what readers have to say.  Check out Tales From the Motherland’s Facebook page (my goal is 500 likes this year), and Twitter, where I struggle to keep it brief. © 2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks. Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Dawn Quyle Landau or Tales From the Motherland.

Aside | Posted on by | Tagged , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Incredible Iceland

Iceland-political-map

I am currently traveling in Scandinavia with my 17 year-old son, Little Man. My husband was headed to Bolivia for a climbing trip with my 22 year-old, Middle Man, and I realized we’d have a lot more fun on an adventure of our own, than sitting at home waiting for them to get back. My son is a huge history buff, and Vikings are high on the list; we have close friends in Denmark, and our exchange student from 2 years ago, and her family, lives in Copenhagen. Denmark seemed a great option; the rest has been icing. There’s far too much to share in one post. This is part one of our grand adventure.

When my son and I put together our “Viking Tour–” a trip to Denmark with stops in Iceland and Sweden or Norway (we were free-falling; we left some of it open), Iceland was something that interested me, but mainly to see  the “Blue Lagoon–” Iceland’s Disney-like geothermal pools. I’d flown through Reykjavik a couple of times, on previous trips to Denmark or Europe, and the ads in the airport had long seduced me. Figuring there might be a few other things to see in Iceland, we added a four-day stop over, for free, via Icelandair. Big mistake. Big. Mistake!

Little did I know that we would fall madly in love with this volcanic iceland, and wish desperately that we had much more time to explore.

Upon arriving in Reykjavik, in what was late evening by our biological clocks, but 6am local time, we wearily got our rental car, plugged in the navigation (there was NO way I was going to try and navigate the vowel-laden locations on the map, without the reassurance of a dash board map), and headed to our hotel. It was 8am when we found the adorable OK Hotel, on the primo Laugavegur street, in downtown Reykjavik. We were starving; it was raining; we wanted desperately to eat and then nap, and I was worried about not impressing my 17 year-old son with my travel prowess. No doubt, I wanted to look solid and cool in his eyes. However, I felt like doo-doo, and entirely unsure of what we should do next. I was just beginning to question my free-fall itinerary.

The dining room in the OK Hotel was such a welcome site, and the lovely Icelandic young woman who waited on us, made us instantly feel at ease. She showed us how to feed the meters (harder than you’d think when not one word resembles anything you know), how to check in (there was no desk, but a number to call to register our arrival), and brought me the most delicious Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon, wild mushrooms and spinach. Hello! At least I was well-fed doo-doo. After eating, we dragged our heavy bags up to the room– a quirky, cool room, with a lovely view of the city streets and harbor beyond– and fell into a deep sleep. What was suppose to be a one hour nap, quickly became 2.5, and I had to force us both up… and out into the gray, drizzly day.

And then, Iceland began to come alive. We got a little lost at first, but quickly found Hallgrímskirkja, the 244 ft church steeple and cathedral that dominates the city skyline. The enormous statue of Leif Ericson outside was a giant bonus to start our Viking trip. We wandered the streets, following our Lonely Planet map, to find the National Museum of Iceland next. Score again! What a gorgeous and very approachable museum. We spent about two hours exploring all of the displays, and soaking up the history and feel of Iceland. From there, were raced to the Saga Museum, hoping to find it before closing. The incredibly life-like silicon characters from Icelandic sagas are brought to life in this compelling museum. The stories were fascinating, but admittedly, I found myself staring at some of the characters, sure that they might move. At the end, my son got to try on real chain metal mail, and learned that it was in fact “very heavy!”  We ended our first very full day at a local restaurant that features a truly Icelandic buffet… including 3 varieties of whale. We were told that Minke is far from endangered, but it was entirely unappealing none-the-less.

Before going to bed, I began to piece together the rest of our time… beginning to realize that we couldn’t possibly do all the things we were beginning to want to do (should have done a lot more research ahead of the trip… but that’s a definite glitch in free falling), and that we’d need to get up early to get on top of our next day. However, we hadn’t really understood just how much the “midnight sun” would impact our inability to sleep. During parts of the summer, the sun literally does not set in Iceland; it is as bright at 5pm as it is a 2am. It makes sleeping very challenging, despite having been up for about 40 hours.

IMG_3496Our second day we found a quirky restaurant that Little Man found in Lonely Planet and then got on the road to explore the “Golden Circle.” First stop was Geyser (pronounces Geeser there). If you’ve been to Yellowstone, this is a disappointment, but it’s good to know that the largest geyser here is in fact higher than Old Faithful, and the drive there was astoundingly beautiful! The guide books warn that stopping to take pictures is ill-advised… clear to understand when you start to see that most roads in Iceland, IF they are paved, are two lanes. This is very challenging when you start to realize that every bend in the road is another “must have” photo op! We were blown away… dumb struck… amazed at the sites! Sheep abound, greener than anything I’ve ever seen (and I live in a land of green), the iconic Icelandic horses taking your breath away as they stand majestically in these stunning settings, endless fields of wild lupine, and landscapes that just take your breath away… it was all just incredible!

At Geyser, I became determined to get a ride on the Icelandic horses I kept seeing advertised and a young guy working in the shop told us to stop 7 km down the road. Thirty minutes later we were mounting our beautiful horses to ride to Gullfloss (Gull Falls)– waterfalls that are much bigger than Niagara and beyond description. I had almost skipped them, figuring we live around a lot of waterfalls at home– what was the point. When I told our guide that I was an experiences rider, I could see the skepticism cross her face. However, I have never ridden a horse like this! The Icelandic horses have an extra step in their gate, making it a 3 beat gate… and the most amazingly smooth ride of my life! My horse (whose name I could not pronounce) was spirited and determined to run… the entire ride. Little Man had only ridden a couple of times, and only on typical trail horses… neither of us was prepared for the joy of that 3 hour ride! At the falls, we dismounted, corralled our horses and walked down to see the falls… and then road back to the barn, passed one of the largest glaciers in the world– it covers 1/8 of the country! Having watched me post, and manage my very eager horse, and nearing the barn, our charming guide (Erin, in Icelandic), looked at me and said: “Wow, you can ride! Go for it!”  We ran the entire way back, and I had to stop myself from whooping! Three hours were gone in a flash… until we got down and had to walk. Note to self: when you haven’t ridden in say… a few years, a three hour ride will hurt later!

Our final stop of the day was Þingvellir (roughly: then-gla-vear), the ancient Democratic seat of Iceland, a very historical and spiritual place, and the site of yet another thrill for Little Man and I. Deep gorges, a walk along tectonic plates (an eery experience, when you really see how the earth has moved!), fantastic waterfalls and clear pools, and Game of Thrones… yes, as we walked along, I began to feel like I’d seen this place before– (Warning: spoiler for anyone who hasn’t seen all the seasons)and like we might be watched. A few minutes later, we heard a guide explaining how the scenes from GoT, when the Hound approaches the Aery with Arya Stark. Yes! It was so clear… and suddenly we were giddy, and had an additional focus to our Viking Trip: the Game of Thrones trip. It would not be our first GoT site…

 

Beyond the incredible history of Þingvellir (a site where Democratic and legal decisions were made, officially, from 900-1798, and unofficially into the 1970s and mass gatherings were held), the geological landscape and the beautiful valley and lake were hauntingly special, almost eery, as the day got later and the sky a bit darker. Many of the tectonic rifts have filled with water, and there are areas where divers explore, and other places where you can wander and take in this other-worldly beauty. Our plan had been to head home on the early side, and visit the Blue Lagoon, but we were swept away, all day, and kept finding ourselves stopping at “one more site,” before heading back to Reykjavik– too late for Blue Lagoon. When we finally made it back to our hotel, exhausted and humbled by this place we’d planned to see in four days, we had already begun realized that we had grossly underestimated how much Iceland would capture our curiosity and breath.

I went to sleep at 1:00 am, the alarm set for 4am… to drive 4.5 hours to Skaftafell glacier, and the one big adventure we’d scheduled before arrival. We had no idea that we were about to be rocked completely!

(To be continued)

*    *   *

If you enjoyed this post, please hit Like and then leave a comment; I love to hear what readers have to say.  Check out Tales From the Motherland’s Facebook page (my goal is 400 likes this year), and Twitter, where I struggle to keep it brief.

© 2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.

Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Dawn Quyle Landau or Tales From the Motherland.

 

Aside | Posted on by | Tagged , , , , , , , | 38 Comments

Friday Fictioneers: As Time Marches On…

friday-fictioneersWelcome to Friday Fictioneers!  Join our merry band of writers, or check out the other stories on Addicted to Purple, home of our fearless leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. To participate: write a 100-word story, with a beginning, middle and end, from the photo prompt provided. Add your story to the InLinkz, and then take some time to read some of the other stories.  This week’s prompt was provided by Claire Fuller. It rocks! Lucky me! Being in Scandinavia puts me 9 hours ahead of my usual time zone, 6 ahead of Rochelle… which gives me a fighting chance of not being number 40+ for the entries!  Please check out my Facebook page, and hit Like… I’m hoping to hit 500 by the end of summer. I’d love your help!

I’m currently in week 2 of a 3-week trip through Scandinavia. Each day has been an incredible adventure, but exhausting and allowing little time for writing or reading. However, wherever I am, when it’s Wednesday, you know where you can find me! I’ll do my best to read your stories, and I appreciate each of you who take the time to read mine. I always welcome honest, thoughtful feedback. Please leave a comment.

© Claire Fuller

© Claire Fuller

Time Marches On  (95 words)

I fought bravely beside my men, never fleeing the storm of battle. I returned to my Queen– regal and pious, and children who grew strong and curious, in my absence. I have no regrets, though I long to rest my bones and set down my sword– to listen to my children play. I’ve done my best for country and kin, and the subjects who depend on me. History will show I was a good and righteous king.

“Mom, who’s this?”

“I don’t know honey. Looks like another one of the kings we keep hearing about…”

*    *    *

If you enjoyed this post, please hit Like and then leave a comment; I love to hear what readers have to say.  Check out Tales From the Motherland’s Facebook page (my goal is 400 likes this year), and Twitter, where I struggle to keep it brief.

© 2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.

Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Dawn Quyle Landau or Tales From the Motherland.

 

 

Aside | Posted on by | Tagged , , , | 47 Comments

Friday Fictioneers: The Memory Tree

friday-fictioneersArrgh! Late already, I forgot to add my link!

What a whirlwind! I almost missed this week, as I’ve been busy with four very full days in Iceland. Nothing could have prepared me for such “epic” beauty and adventure! It’s hard to find time to write when you’re caught up in Icebergs, lava fields, glaciers, quaint towns, and welcoming people. It has been long days and too little sleep– with the midnight sun, keeping it light all night! If you’re interested in the sites, check out Tales From the Motherland, on Monday, when I’ll post some photos and details. I haven’t wanted to miss a minute, so I’m getting this in late, and with little time to read other stories this week. I’m on my way to Denmark now, and then Sweden. I promise to catch up as soon as I can!

For those of you who would like to read more stories in from the Friday Fictioneers, please visit Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s blog, Addicted to Purple. She generously leads us each week– encouraging writers to write their best work; provide a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words, and spend some time reading the other stories.

I always welcome thoughtful, honest feedback, and appreciate your time. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think.

©Madison Woods

©Madison Woods

The Memory Tree  (98 words)

It had been twenty years since Elaine and Vince had seen their son Jimmy. The nine year-old went out to play and was never seen again.

They tried to be good parents to their remaining children, but laughter was often forced. Many days Elaine went to Jimmy’s room and lay on his bed until her other two children came home.  She dusted weekly but moved nothing.

An oak tree in the front yard grew large and strong, eventually swallowing the handlebars of Jimmy’s bike– a daily reminder of the passage of time, and an inability to let go.

*    *    *

If you enjoyed this post, please hit Like and then leave a comment; I love to hear what readers have to say.  Check out Tales From the Motherland’s Facebook page (my goal is 400 likes this year), and Twitter, where I struggle to keep it brief.

© 2014 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, please give proper credit. Plagiarism sucks.

Any ads at the bottom of this page are not endorsed by Dawn Quyle Landau or Tales From the Motherland.

Aside | Posted on by | Tagged , , , , | 34 Comments