Between getting reaching double deadlines at work and getting ready for the festive season, there hasn’t been too much time to write. Ok, I must admit, I have also been watching more TV than usual and doing crafts (usually at the same time – must keep hands busy!). I’ve made quite a few quilled Christmas cards, am crocheting a couple of things for my home and busy with a needlepoint piece that I want to frame for the bedroom once it’s done. And I have been studying in-between, believe it or not!
I am really looking forward to some time off over the festive season and New Year. I always have a giddy pleasure to put up my new calendars and start using a new diary. For 2011 I have a Terry Pratchett wall calendar with Josh Kirby artwork – I love the covers he’s done for the Discworld novels and it is sure to put a smile on your face!
After struggling with severe headaches for the last couple of weeks the doctor has found a concoction that seems to be doing the job of keeping them at bay. So I’ve been jotting down a lot of ideas for stories, without doing too much to flesh them out – something I hope to be doing next week. I’ve only recently discovered Evernote and find it such a big help in keeping all the ideas in one place. That way, if I get the chance to write during my lunch hour, I can just log on and see what I was busy with last. It also helps to save articles and websites there where I have found inspiration. Brilliant!
Now you might ask why there is a sea monster at the bottom of the garden… well, when the summer rains really start to fall there are big pools of water that collect on the clay soil at the bottom of the garden. I am sure on one day there was enough to house at least a baby sea monster! But I am very grateful for the rain – especially that which have fallen in the Southern Cape where there is a severe drought.
Johannesburg is emptying quickly before Christmas with many people heading to the coast for vacation and every year I realize how pleasant it is to have a couple of weeks where the streets are much quieter and everyone slows down from the hectic pace of city life to stop and smell the roses.
May everyone be blessed this Christmas and may everyone find again in their hearts the truth of this celebration. May people’s hearts also be turned towards God and may Christians truly show the spirit of the season and show others what this time is really about.
Merry Christmas! Geseënde Kersfees!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
“Cookies and Milk”, a flash piece for Christmas
Here’s a piece for Christmas, called “Cookies and Milk”.
Die Afrikaanse vertaling kan op die “flitse”-blad gelees word, of by www.woes.co.za of http://bit.ly/fx7W2S / The Afrikaans translation can be read on the “flitse” page or at www.woes.co.za or http://bit.ly/fx7W2S
Cookies and milk
“Do you think I’ve lost some weight?” Nick asked, looking at himself in the hallway mirror. The green carpet beneath his feet was scuffed and threadbare in places. It was much, much older than the new, box-like house in which it now lay. “I’ve tried to cut down on sugar and carbs, you know. Only fat free milk as well.”
“Spot of brandy?” Bob, the younger of the two asked as he made his way from the kitchen to the spare-bedroom-study, past the living room where a boot was thrown through the glass of the TV. He didn’t ask.
“Why not? Boeing's long gone.”
They sat down in identical leather chairs in front of a fake fireplace with fake logs and flames. A small nativity scene stood on a shelf. Bob looked at it and smiled. “I’m glad to see you still have it.”
“Of course, not another in the world that can craft wood like that. And the paint? Perfect. Don’t see much of them anymore.”
The younger blushed. Though wrinkled, his face and eyes still held youth pent up inside. “Made another sheep,” he said and took a small, white, wooden sheep from his pocket. “You need a flock. The shepherds can’t just watch three sheep. And you need a few more angels. I’ll make them next year.”
“Thank you.” The old man placed it reverentially on the mantle with the others.
They sat in silence sipping their drinks.
“How’s life treating you?” Bob asked.
“As it does all old people, Bob,” the man said. “They don’t want you around anymore. No more letters. Small house. Lots of people. The neighbour’s kid cursed at me yesterday for moving too slow and called me fat.” He sighed. “Most are like that now. I prefer to stay here with my memories and thoughts.”
A dull thumping sounded from the house next door.
“And my own music. Not this noise.”
“The TV?”
“They had Santa selling some awful pre-cooked soya turkey dinner. Then he strutted around drunk as sailor on leave, in a nightclub, with what looked like teenagers. I couldn’t find the remote, so I chucked the nearest thing. Let’s just say I’ve not felt that good in years. Didn’t like the damn TV anyway.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“I made a toy for my nephew. Wind up train. Built the whole thing by hand. Painted it. Made the tracks – a replica of the track outside town. Trees, people, buildings, you name it.”
“And?”
“He walked into the garage while I was busy. He laughed.” He took a swallow of brandy. “Later he and his friends set it alight. Apparently they wanted to see if painted wood burns faster than unpainted wood.”
“Did it?”
“The varnish wasn’t dry yet. It was like throwing a butt on dry grass.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Should’ve kept it in my room. The paint fumes just got too much.”
The older man grinned. “Ventilation’s the key, hey.”
Someone hammered on the front door.
The men looked at their watches. “Not four yet, he can wait.”
“I’m not getting in the car if he’s drunk.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, of course he’s drunk the useless –“
“O, say it. I’m thinking it too.”
“The sheep’s nice. I’m glad you brought it. Does look more real with more sheep. The donkey’s still my favourite, though. That hanging ear… the spitting image of old Daisy.”
“You know, my nephew asked me what the sheep was for,” he said.
“And?”
“I said for a nativity scene.”
“And?”
“He didn’t know what it was.”
“His parents?”
“Quite useless, the both of them.”
The knock on the door sounded again, loader this time.
“Not yet four. Anyway, we’re deaf old men.”
“Some cookies? Their home made.”
“Never say no to cookies and milk. Best time of the year for them as well.”
“And some music? We’ll have to put it loud if we want to hear it, what with being deaf and all…”
The eldest of the two turned the stereo on and a carol started to play.
The other went to the fridge to get the milk. It was filled with drinks and jelly shots.
“And this?”
“The neighbours didn’t have enough room in their house for all their liquor. They probably need it for the dry Christmas their having.” Neither of them laughed.
Bob ate another of the Pfefferneuse and took a gulp of milk while the hammering at the door continued. They turned the stereo up.
Come, they told me
“Funny how it’s suddenly two days of binge drinking. Or until the day after New Year’s if their livers last.”
Our finest gifts we bring
“And now all everyone’s wants is video games and expensive gadgets. Nobody even wishes anymore. Everything’s a have-to-have. Do you remember the gifts we made?”
So to honour Him
“And the music. And the lights. The joy of the children’s faces? Now their all greedy little buggers.”
I have no gift to bring
“And that feeling of peace when you walk into the church? That could calm your heart for another year, knowing you’re safe.”
Shall I play for you
“And now?” He didn’t have to say anything. They knew.
There was knocking again. “I’m leaving if you don’t come out now!”
Bob took another two Pfefferneuse and dipped them in the milk.
The ox and lamb kept time
“Do you think they’ll ever find the houses, Nick?”
I played my drum for Him
“No. Never. We made sure of that. Nobody will look there anyway. The whole story was a good idea after all, especially the bit about the elves.”
I played my best for Him
“Humph! Stupid Google Earth, it’s the North Pole! Who goes and searches the North Pole!”
Then He smiled at me
“More milk? There’s another tin Pfefferneuse here somewhere.”
END.
Die Afrikaanse vertaling kan op die “flitse”-blad gelees word, of by www.woes.co.za of http://bit.ly/fx7W2S / The Afrikaans translation can be read on the “flitse” page or at www.woes.co.za or http://bit.ly/fx7W2S
Cookies and milk
“Do you think I’ve lost some weight?” Nick asked, looking at himself in the hallway mirror. The green carpet beneath his feet was scuffed and threadbare in places. It was much, much older than the new, box-like house in which it now lay. “I’ve tried to cut down on sugar and carbs, you know. Only fat free milk as well.”
“Spot of brandy?” Bob, the younger of the two asked as he made his way from the kitchen to the spare-bedroom-study, past the living room where a boot was thrown through the glass of the TV. He didn’t ask.
“Why not? Boeing's long gone.”
They sat down in identical leather chairs in front of a fake fireplace with fake logs and flames. A small nativity scene stood on a shelf. Bob looked at it and smiled. “I’m glad to see you still have it.”
“Of course, not another in the world that can craft wood like that. And the paint? Perfect. Don’t see much of them anymore.”
The younger blushed. Though wrinkled, his face and eyes still held youth pent up inside. “Made another sheep,” he said and took a small, white, wooden sheep from his pocket. “You need a flock. The shepherds can’t just watch three sheep. And you need a few more angels. I’ll make them next year.”
“Thank you.” The old man placed it reverentially on the mantle with the others.
They sat in silence sipping their drinks.
“How’s life treating you?” Bob asked.
“As it does all old people, Bob,” the man said. “They don’t want you around anymore. No more letters. Small house. Lots of people. The neighbour’s kid cursed at me yesterday for moving too slow and called me fat.” He sighed. “Most are like that now. I prefer to stay here with my memories and thoughts.”
A dull thumping sounded from the house next door.
“And my own music. Not this noise.”
“The TV?”
“They had Santa selling some awful pre-cooked soya turkey dinner. Then he strutted around drunk as sailor on leave, in a nightclub, with what looked like teenagers. I couldn’t find the remote, so I chucked the nearest thing. Let’s just say I’ve not felt that good in years. Didn’t like the damn TV anyway.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“I made a toy for my nephew. Wind up train. Built the whole thing by hand. Painted it. Made the tracks – a replica of the track outside town. Trees, people, buildings, you name it.”
“And?”
“He walked into the garage while I was busy. He laughed.” He took a swallow of brandy. “Later he and his friends set it alight. Apparently they wanted to see if painted wood burns faster than unpainted wood.”
“Did it?”
“The varnish wasn’t dry yet. It was like throwing a butt on dry grass.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Should’ve kept it in my room. The paint fumes just got too much.”
The older man grinned. “Ventilation’s the key, hey.”
Someone hammered on the front door.
The men looked at their watches. “Not four yet, he can wait.”
“I’m not getting in the car if he’s drunk.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, of course he’s drunk the useless –“
“O, say it. I’m thinking it too.”
“The sheep’s nice. I’m glad you brought it. Does look more real with more sheep. The donkey’s still my favourite, though. That hanging ear… the spitting image of old Daisy.”
“You know, my nephew asked me what the sheep was for,” he said.
“And?”
“I said for a nativity scene.”
“And?”
“He didn’t know what it was.”
“His parents?”
“Quite useless, the both of them.”
The knock on the door sounded again, loader this time.
“Not yet four. Anyway, we’re deaf old men.”
“Some cookies? Their home made.”
“Never say no to cookies and milk. Best time of the year for them as well.”
“And some music? We’ll have to put it loud if we want to hear it, what with being deaf and all…”
The eldest of the two turned the stereo on and a carol started to play.
The other went to the fridge to get the milk. It was filled with drinks and jelly shots.
“And this?”
“The neighbours didn’t have enough room in their house for all their liquor. They probably need it for the dry Christmas their having.” Neither of them laughed.
Bob ate another of the Pfefferneuse and took a gulp of milk while the hammering at the door continued. They turned the stereo up.
Come, they told me
“Funny how it’s suddenly two days of binge drinking. Or until the day after New Year’s if their livers last.”
Our finest gifts we bring
“And now all everyone’s wants is video games and expensive gadgets. Nobody even wishes anymore. Everything’s a have-to-have. Do you remember the gifts we made?”
So to honour Him
“And the music. And the lights. The joy of the children’s faces? Now their all greedy little buggers.”
I have no gift to bring
“And that feeling of peace when you walk into the church? That could calm your heart for another year, knowing you’re safe.”
Shall I play for you
“And now?” He didn’t have to say anything. They knew.
There was knocking again. “I’m leaving if you don’t come out now!”
Bob took another two Pfefferneuse and dipped them in the milk.
The ox and lamb kept time
“Do you think they’ll ever find the houses, Nick?”
I played my drum for Him
“No. Never. We made sure of that. Nobody will look there anyway. The whole story was a good idea after all, especially the bit about the elves.”
I played my best for Him
“Humph! Stupid Google Earth, it’s the North Pole! Who goes and searches the North Pole!”
Then He smiled at me
“More milk? There’s another tin Pfefferneuse here somewhere.”
END.
Monday, December 6, 2010
New Speculative Article for December 2010
A fictional account of a history and people that never existed
I am ecstatic to report that my follow-up article for the Speculative Grammarian can now be read at: http://bit.ly/hCXg8F
The name of the piece is A Brief Essay on the Language and Mythology of the Ekhié and the neighbouring Mákek Peoples of the Highveld Forests and the Ancient Watmákekhié Site and was written under the guise of By Mr. J. Doe of the International Centre for the Studies of Previously Presumed Mythical Beings and Peoples and is a follow-up piece by certain J. Doe that tells a bit more about the world that the travel piece used in November 2010 is set. Find the November article at: http://bit.ly/aXDkDe and learn about Sir C.J. Cockspur’s dastardly plans to void the world of all but one, very much simplified language.
I had a lot of fun writing “A Brief Essay” because I could really let go (and use as many footnotes as possible) and sketch the peoples of the Highveld Forest which they inhabit. The idea of the builders of the pyramids building the first ones on the Highveld before moving on to Egypt was fleshed out with the idea of extraterrestrial people building them (or at least supervising) before moving on to Egypt. (And then, probably South America.)
I also got to play around with words in English and Afrikaans. For instance, “Watmákekhié” is taken from “Wat maak ek hier?”/”What am I doing here?”, while the greeting Hoo’gha’nitte is taken from “Hoe gaan dit?”/How are you?” (Lit. How goes it?), a phrase which in informal circumstances is sometimes assimilated so that it sounds like one word. Although Gha’nê is completely made up. Other words, like “broker” and “fairy dust” is just written with atrocious spelling to give them an exotic look.
I have a feeling Mr. J. Doe and the International Centre for the Studies of Previously Presumed Mythical Beings and Peoples will have some more research to share in the future. Maybe Mr. J. Doe will even manage to get his doctorate!
Good news for fans of Dean Barkley Briggs’ first book in The Legends of Karac Tor series. He has found a new publisher for the rest of the series! If you have not yet read The Book of Names, you will be in for a treat (and a belated Christmas present to yourself) if you can get your hands on it in January. I am going to post a review of the book on the blog “Ramblings of a Lone Bibliophile” within the next month (after a reread), but, until then, check out Dean Barkley Briggs’ site at: www.hiddenlands.net
Until next time.
I am ecstatic to report that my follow-up article for the Speculative Grammarian can now be read at: http://bit.ly/hCXg8F
The name of the piece is A Brief Essay on the Language and Mythology of the Ekhié and the neighbouring Mákek Peoples of the Highveld Forests and the Ancient Watmákekhié Site and was written under the guise of By Mr. J. Doe of the International Centre for the Studies of Previously Presumed Mythical Beings and Peoples and is a follow-up piece by certain J. Doe that tells a bit more about the world that the travel piece used in November 2010 is set. Find the November article at: http://bit.ly/aXDkDe and learn about Sir C.J. Cockspur’s dastardly plans to void the world of all but one, very much simplified language.
I had a lot of fun writing “A Brief Essay” because I could really let go (and use as many footnotes as possible) and sketch the peoples of the Highveld Forest which they inhabit. The idea of the builders of the pyramids building the first ones on the Highveld before moving on to Egypt was fleshed out with the idea of extraterrestrial people building them (or at least supervising) before moving on to Egypt. (And then, probably South America.)
I also got to play around with words in English and Afrikaans. For instance, “Watmákekhié” is taken from “Wat maak ek hier?”/”What am I doing here?”, while the greeting Hoo’gha’nitte is taken from “Hoe gaan dit?”/How are you?” (Lit. How goes it?), a phrase which in informal circumstances is sometimes assimilated so that it sounds like one word. Although Gha’nê is completely made up. Other words, like “broker” and “fairy dust” is just written with atrocious spelling to give them an exotic look.
I have a feeling Mr. J. Doe and the International Centre for the Studies of Previously Presumed Mythical Beings and Peoples will have some more research to share in the future. Maybe Mr. J. Doe will even manage to get his doctorate!
Good news for fans of Dean Barkley Briggs’ first book in The Legends of Karac Tor series. He has found a new publisher for the rest of the series! If you have not yet read The Book of Names, you will be in for a treat (and a belated Christmas present to yourself) if you can get your hands on it in January. I am going to post a review of the book on the blog “Ramblings of a Lone Bibliophile” within the next month (after a reread), but, until then, check out Dean Barkley Briggs’ site at: www.hiddenlands.net
Until next time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)