Tag Archives: #3ww

A “Most Beautiful Thing” and a Tuesday Snippet

Stones

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Today is the first of a few meme posts that I have lined up, but I have no doubt you will enjoy this one.  I wasn’t tagged in it.  Like the Friday Flash Fiction that L.S. Engler would post, or the occasional #3WW (Three Word Wednesday) poems, this meme I decided to join in solely for the pleasure that sharing brought me.

And so, I give you my version of Fiona Robyn’s The Most Beautiful Thing as I wrote it, nearly freeform, in 750words this afternoon:

Thinking about the Most Beautiful Thing…  Given it’s originator, it’s something of a “small stones” exercise, but even without truly exploring the depth of beauty I have found, I know where it lays…  I don’t need a small stone to know that I have something incredibly beautiful here with me every day.

There are days I would say it is so beautiful to have my few hours alone at night, in my own home, working on stories, sitting in an almost dark home, relaxing yet getting so very much done….  which I do.  My power hours for writing, reading, typing all come after 10pm.  I only go to bed around then  because the 6am waking time to get the Boodle to school (which we haven’t been making at all lately) seems to come earlier and earlier each day.

(Of course, my 10pm going to bed time usually drags out into the 1am to 2am “I just want to finish one last thing before I turn off the computer” bedtime.  And often, I don’t turn off the computer because too much is still running.)

But while I find those moment peaceful and empowering, I would never attribute them as “beautiful”.  They are necessary for my sanity, desirable for my efficiency, and even pretty darned nice.  But beautiful…  no.

What is beautiful? The Boodle… his genuine heart and love.

A little backdrop here:  Yesterday, crossing one of the two public reservoirs on the way home from my Boodle’s school, I hit a bird.  Well, this daring aerialist swallow decided to see if he could fly under the car.

Tachycineta bicolor English: A Tree Swallow fl...

Hurt, but not dead, I knew he’d suffer for a while there on the road.  With a broken wing, a blinded eye, and a few missing tail feathers he wasn’t likely to fly ever again, but he seemed determined to live from what I saw.  So I brought him home.  We had cat food (kitten chow is recommended for feeding these birds when nursing them), sunflower seeds, water…  an old box from some computer memory filled with some extra soft rags…

He didn’t really like the box and chose to settle against my chest and sit there.

But the injuries must have been worse than I could see.  I should have suspected, given the damage to his eye.  I rose for a few moments to go see if he’d prefer a little perch in his box, settling him in it.  I came back inside less than minute later, and he’d died.

Now, of course, you might wonder where  my Most Beautiful Thing is in this….

Well, after my last post, one might wonder if I fear I may be raising the next Hannibal Lector.  Trust me, I’m not.  The Boodle is enormously sensitive and aware of the feelings of others.  This is the boy that will run and cower in another room and hide when someone speaks to him loudly or will start crying just because he’s seen a friend hurting.  And this is the boy who came over to me to hug me and held my hand so we could walk outside and say goodbye to a little tree sparrow that I’d hit with the car yesterday.   He held my hand, he hugged me, and he told me to “Feel better” and that the little bird would go back to Nature where it came from.

And my husband’s heart is amazing too, because even before the Boodle came home from school, he gave me hugs and encouraged my support of that little bird.

So maybe the Most Beautiful Thing really is mine, not theirs.  It is my life and the fact that they (and so many other amazing people and experiences) are a part of it..

♥♥♥ Continue reading

Because I Don’t Believe in Sleep

It’s Wednesday–well, actually it’s almost Thursday given the time, but I had some great stuff, a mix-up of sorts that has been hanging around here and I wanted to post of the great links I’ve discovered recently.

Let’s see, we have the hilarious, but also thought-provoking post Amy Beth Inverness posted on her Sci-Fi  Q of the day:  Why Go to the Moon?

Then there is this cool piece of flash fiction by DL Thurston for this week’s Terrible Mind’s prompt the Unlikable Protagonist.

This piece from Out Magazine is likely not for everyone, but I found it cool.  I love learning about people…  all people.  And I really like learning about happy people.

Then I passed through a few blogs and Twitter pages I try to follow and found the oddest little hashtag–#3WW.  Granted, I think a lot of Twitter hashtags are odd, but they do grown on one.  And I suspect this one will too….

It’s Three Word Wednesday

The point is to make a piece of poetry that includes three words.  This week’s the words are angelic, ruin and foster.  Here is my attempt on short notice.

Forging

Hard walls hold,

brackish grey, ruinous mould

wrapped around the fragile center

shapes and cools

fires of non-angelic nature

fosters permanence

images of grotesques

and fools.

I’m not sure why…  Actually I started this thinking about Cadbury Creme Eggs and then the Weeping Angels from Steve Moffat’s Blink episode of Doctor Who.  Strange where the mind goes.