Monthly Archives: July 2012


The prompt for this week’s 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups is ‘the line was drawn’.
If you would like to read other people’s entries or give it a try yourself, please go to 
Please try to read some and comment constructively.

The line was drawn in the wet sand with a gnarled stick they found in the dunes. Neither of them really believed it would make any difference but they were prepared to try anything that might lead to them being found.  Their ears were filled with the thundering waves, whining wind and screaming gulls. Their fingers were numb with the cold spray, yet they continued their task with grim determination.
It was done. A huge letter ‘H’ reached out from their feet, calling to the skies, for any flying object to notice. Tomorrow it would be gone. They’d have to do it all again.


Storm 100WCGU

The prompt for this week’s 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups is ‘the rain turned the road into a river’.
The sky had lain heavily on the village all afternoon and the air fizzed in anticipation of the storm. Even with the windows open, Claire couldn’t breathe. It was almost three o’ clock when the first rumbles were heard in the distance and suddenly day became night. The raindrops fell sporadically at first, drumming on the roof of the car and cracking off the windscreen as Claire set off for the village school to collect the boys. The wipers tried in vain to cope with the downpour and the lightning illuminated Claire’s anxious face in the rear view mirror as the rain turned the road into a river. 

Today my dad had Guinness for breakfast

Those who are close to me know my feelings about care for the elderly. My father opted to go into residential care of his own free will and having received a good pension on retirement he’s paid his own fees for the last ten years. That amounts to a lot of money when most months cost £2200 at his home. Do the sums – it’s quite scary.
He has been through the Southern Cross fiasco and survived. It was a bit of a blow to realise that the company which took over were also in dire financial straits and were bailed out by a financial institution but we had faith and gave them time. I now do all of his washing as he was sick of losing clothes in the laundry. But recently there have been more worrying issues. A while ago there was no butter. He was served dry bread. There are two issues here. One – in my humble opinion, no organisation should run out of an everyday essential like butter. Two – if it had run out, someone ought to have nipped down to the shop to buy some. Today when I visited the issue was bread. No bread for supper last night (run out) and then again for breakfast this morning as the delivery was late for some reason.
By this time my dad was in a strop. When the bread arrived later, he was offered it but refused in protest. He then went back to his room and opened a can of Guinness and had it for his breakfast.
I know that he can be a bit of a tinker when crossed but I think he is right to be more than a bit angry when he feels he is simply not getting value for money – a huge amount of money actually. It is also worrying that he is losing weight rapidly as he eats less and less. I must add that this is not solely down to the choice and quality of food but also the issues he has with digestion and teeth.
We decided to take my dad in to live with us but need a bigger house. Unfortunately, the house we wanted went to someone else today (that’s a whole other story!). In the meantime we will move him to a new place where hopefully he will be given a better deal.

Sorry, dog. 100WCGU

This week’s 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups has to include the phrase ‘I blamed it on the dog’.
Why not give it a go?

I blamed it on the dog. I feel guilty about it now and need to confess. It was such an amazing cake – three layers of moist sponge cake sealed together with butterscotch icing. I’d had three pieces already but there it was in the kitchen, taunting and tempting. Surely nobody would notice if I had just a little more? But even that wasn’t enough and I returned again. When it was demolished I panicked. Smearing the last dregs of butter cream on the dogs face, wiping round my own mouth and putting the empty plate on the floor, I waited for my husband’s return. Sorry, dog.