Norah Colvin

Live Love Laugh Learn … Create the possibilities

Category: Writing

  • A Ritual Involving Tea #99WordStories

    A Ritual Involving Tea #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to in 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about any ritual involving tea. It can be a daily afternoon tea prepared specifically or the reading of tea leaves in a cup. What do you know? What do you imagine? Is your story deep and ponderous or bright and flash? Go where the prompt leads!

    As a child, I enjoyed playing with my tea sets. It was fun lining up my toys and having tea parties. I remember two tea sets from my childhood. One was a pretty little floral set made of china. The other was red and white plastic.

    I remember sitting on the back steps one day when I was about three, washing my china cups and saucers. Perhaps I was getting ready for a tea party or cleaning up after one. I’m not sure. But while I was sitting there, busily at my work, Dad came out and didn’t see my pretty little cups and stood right on them, smashing them into little pieces. He was very apologetic and, surprisingly, I was very forgiving. He would tell the story many times later about how I’d looked up at him and said, “It’s okay, Dad. You didn’t mean to.” I think the adult me could learn a lot about forgiveness from the little me.

    As an adult, I consider a very special treat to be a high tea with its cucumber and smoked salmon finger sandwiches, fresh baked scones with jam and cream, and a selection of petit fours. I have enjoyed a number of these over the years, usually in very special locations for very special occasions.

    I remember having one with my mum and other family members to celebrate her 90th birthday at a restaurant she had enjoyed going to with her mother when she was growing up. It was definitely a special treat and an occasion to remember.

    I’ve allowed some of these ‘special’ thoughts to influence my response to Charli’s prompt as I add another event to Amy and Lucy’s imaginative play. I hope you enjoy it.

    The Tea Party

    Ollie said the table looked divine. Teddy agreed, adding the fairy cakes were the prettiest and sweetest he’d ever tasted, and the tea was the perfect temperature. Amy and Lucy beamed. The tea party to welcome the happy couple home from their honeymoon was a success. Everyone was there. It was all going swimmingly, until a balloon popped. Ellie started, upsetting the teapot with her flailing trunk and whipping the cakes from their stand. Monkey screeched. Bunny watched tea puddle under the table.

    “I’ve ruined the party,” wailed Ellie.

    “It’s okay, Ellie,” said Lucy. “No one’s hurt. Nothing’s broken.”

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Broken Arm, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • Broken Arm #99WordStories

    Broken Arm #99WordStories

    Broken Arm

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a broken arm. What happened? Is there a cause and effect because of the broken arm? Was the injury faked? Why? Go where the prompt leads!

    I’m pleased to say that I’ve never had a broken bone. I hope that continues to be true for the rest of my days. Breaks can become more frequent as we age. So far as I know, neither parent had a broken arm, though my brother did when he was five (a big boy fell on him) and my daughter did when she was eleven (an accident at gymnastics caused by a younger child). So, with no personal experience, I’ve stayed with Amy and Lucy and their imaginative play. It’s wet outside, so they’re playing indoors – no red convertible this time.

    Teddy’s Broken Arm

    The waiting room was crowded. As usual, Doctor Amy was running late.

    Nurse Lucy looked at the list. “Teddy!” she called.

    Teddy was hugging his arm, trying to stifle tears.

    “What appears to be the problem?” asked Doctor Amy, looking over her glasses.

    “I think my arm’s broken.”

    “Nurse Lucy, we need an x-ray,” said Doctor Amy.

    The x-ray agreed with Teddy. Doctor and nurse plastered his arm with plasticene and tied it in a handkerchief sling.

    “Lunch time,” said Mum. “Oh, what’s wrong with Teddy?”

    “He’s got a broken arm,” said Amy.

    “Just a fake one,” said Lucy.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Mud on the Tires, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • Mud on the Tires #99WordStories

    Mud on the Tires #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about mud on the tires. The tires can be from any conveyance or serve as an analogy. How did they get muddy and why? What impact does mud on the tires have on the story (plot) or characters (motivation)? Go where the prompt leads!

    In her post, Charli says ‘I guess this seems similar to balloons on a bumper. It differs, though. Mud is real. Balloons are temporary hopes and dreams susceptible to popping. Mud can stain. Mud can wash away. Mud says, “You’ve been places, Kiddo.”’

    For my response, I have continued with my red convertible story with the girls Amy and Lucy playing imaginatively in their back yard with their toys and whatever else is available. (I have included the previous two stories at the end, in case you’d like to read them together.)

    In the last episode, the girls had balloons on their bumper as they travelled to celebrate the wedding of their toys Teddy and Ollie. The balloons, as Charli says, were temporary. In this third episode, they have been replaced by empty cans. But the girls and their toys, including the tyres of their red convertible, have been covered with mud. The mud does say that they have been places. It also says they have had fun, used their imaginations and been creative — three things I consider to be very important in life. I hope this mud sticks, not only for them, but for everyone.

    A note about tires. In Australia tires means to grow sleepy and tyres refers to the black rubber things on the wheels of a car. Hence the change in spelling.

    I hope you enjoy my story.

    Mud on the Tyres

    After the wedding, Teddy and Ollie scrunched into the back of the little red convertible.

    As Amy and Lucy drove them away from the faraway forest, the guests cheered and threw confetti. The empty cans, now replacing balloons on the bumper, clattered across the wooden bridge and scattered gravel along the mountain trail.

    At the honeymoon resort, Teddy and Ollie splashed in the pool first, but they were overexcited, and the grounds were soon a mucky muddy mess.  

    When Mother called, ‘Dinnertime!’, the girls were mud-spattered, from the hair on their heads to their convertible’s tyres.

    ‘Coming!’ they replied.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Here are the two previous episodes of this story.

    The Little Red Convertible (Episode 1)

    “Where to today?” asked Amy.

    “Over the mountains, across the river, and through the far-away forest,” said Lucy.

    “Be home in time for dinner,” said Mother.

    “We will!”

    The little red convertible chugged to the peak of the highest mountain where the children danced in clouds. It rolled through misty valleys and onto the plain where the children played hide-and-seek in patchwork fields. It trundled across the wooden bridge over the river that led to the forest where they fluttered with fairies and pranced with unicorns.

    Rumbling bellies told them to head for home.

    “Just in time,” said Mother.

    Balloons on the Bumper (Episode 2)

    “Where to today?” asked Amy.

    “A party,” said Lucy, tying balloons to the bumper of their little red convertible.

    “Whose party?”

    “Teddy’s. He’s getting married.”

    “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.”

    “He doesn’t. He has a unicorn-friend. Mother said I can marry anyone I want. So, Teddy can too.”

    “Right. Which way?”

    “Over the mountains, across the river, and through the far-away forest.”

    “Be home for dinner,” said Mother.

    “We will!”

    The balloons sailed above the little red car. At the party, the children fluttered with fairies and pranced with unicorns as Teddy and Ollie shared their vows.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Balloons on a Bumper, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • Balloons on the Bumper #99WordStories

    Balloons on the Bumper #99WordStories

    Balloons on the Bumper

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about balloons on a bumper. Is it a spectacle, an occasion, an eccentricity? Why are the balloons there? Who is involved? Go where the prompt leads!

    The prompt reminded me of an occasion just over twenty years ago, when my sister, niece and I attended a ‘hen’s party’ (terrible term) for my future sister in-law. My niece collected a bunch of helium-filled balloons to take home. She couldn’t squeeze them all into the car, and I drove home with one balloon sailing above us and my sister and niece both in hysterics all the way. Needless to say, they’d both had a few drinks to help the merriment. When we got home, my daughter and nephew, both early teens, decided to inhale the helium, and the hilarity began all over again.

    Anyway, I decided to revisit Amy and Lucy and their little red convertible from a few prompts ago. I hope you like it.

    Balloons on the Bumper

    “Where to today?” asked Amy.

    “A party,” said Lucy, tying balloons to the bumper of their little red convertible.

    “Whose party?”

    “Teddy’s. He’s getting married.”

    “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.”

    “He doesn’t. He has a unicorn-friend. Mother said I can marry anyone I want. So, Teddy can too.”

    “Right. Which way?”

    “Over the mountains, across the river, and through the far-away forest.”

    “Be home for dinner,” said Mother.

    “We will!”

    The balloons sailed above the little red car. At the party, the children fluttered with fairies and pranced with unicorns as Teddy and Ollie shared their vows.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Swimmingly, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • Swimmingly #99WordStories

    Swimmingly #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the word, “swimmingly.” which means “smoothly or satisfactorily.” What is the situation? Who is involved? Let the word take you into a story. Go where the prompt leads!

    This is my response. I hope you like it.

    Fun in the Pool

    A perfect summer’s day: azure sky with not a hint of cloud, a whispering breeze to kiss away humidity, children’s laughter sparkling like glitter; it was all going swimmingly, until …

    Kevin kicked furiously, and …

    the tube crashed. Tina tipped heels over head, chipping Chelsea’s chin, as she smacked into the water.

    Chelsea fell against Liam, who yelled, “Get off me!” as they splashed down.

    The three resurfaced together, and grabbed the tube, catapulting Kevin overhead, arms and legs flailing, into the water.

    “Wow!” “That’s fun!” “Do it to me!” “I’m first!”

    It was all going swimmingly …

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt the red convertible, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • The Red Convetible #99WordStories

    The Red Convetible #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that features a red convertible. Who is driving or riding? Where is the car going? Maybe it isn’t even a car. Have fun and go where the prompt leads!

    Royal’s Red Convertible

    When I was a child, my uncle, who was probably in his early thirties and single at the time, had a red convertible. His name was Royal (Royal Albert, no less) and I thought he looked like Elvis Presley. He had a great sense of humour, and when he laughed, he did so with his whole body. Whenever he came to visit, we kids would beg him for a ride. He always complied. We felt like royalty as he whizzed us around the block, the wind in our hair, smiling as wide as the Pacific. It was Royal fun!

    Charli did say to go where the prompt leads, and how could I write a post about a red convertible without paying respects to my uncle and the only times I got to ride in a red convertible, or any convertible for that matter. Sadly, we lost Royal twenty years ago to melanoma, a terrible disease that takes too many lives here in Queensland.

    From memoir to fiction.

    The Little Red Convertible V1

    Teddy plumped into the driver’s seat. Ollie squished beside.

    “Where’re we going, Teddy?”

    “Somewhere far away, where the flowers bloom and the birds sing and the sky’s the prettiest blue.”

    “How long will it take to get there?”

    “Close your eyes and we’ll be there before you know it,” said Teddy.

    The little red convertible zoomed past dancing horses and gilded carriages.

    “Do you see it?” asked Teddy.

    “It’s beautiful!” whispered Ollie, not wanting to break the magic.

    When the little red convertible stopped, Ollie asked, “Can we go again?”

    “Anytime,” said Teddy. “Just close your eyes and imagine.”

    When I was writing that one, I was thinking of a little red car on a carousel. However, I couldn’t find an image to match. I quite liked the image of the two children and the pedal car, so I thought I’d have another go. For this one, I was thinking of playing imaginatively in the backyard or playground. I don’t think either are really what I could call finished, though each is 99 words, as is Royal’s Red Convertible, but I’ve run out of time. Let me know which you prefer.

    The Little Red Convertible V2

    “Where to today?” asked Amy.

    “Over the mountains, across the river, and through the far-away forest,” said Lucy.

    “Be home in time for dinner,” said Mother.

    “We will!”

    The little red convertible chugged to the peak of the highest mountain where the children danced in clouds. It rolled through misty valleys and onto the plain where the children played hide-and-seek in patchwork fields. It trundled across the wooden bridge over the river that led to the forest where they fluttered with fairies and pranced with unicorns.

    Rumbling bellies told them to head for home.

    “Just in time,” said Mother.

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

  • Shame #99WordStories

    Shame #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story exploring shame as an emotion or theme. Consider how to use shame to drive a cause-and-effect story. How does it impact a character? Is there a change? Go where the prompt leads!

    Shameful — Conversation Overheard

    “Look at that,” one mother tut-tutted. “So shameful.”

    “What is?”

    “That. I’d be totally ashamed to send my child to school looking like that.”

    “That’s a shame.”

    “Unfortunately, our children have to mix with the likes of that. Have people no shame?”

    “I’m not sure what you mean by the likes of that. Our world is enriched by diversity. The more the better, I say. It’s true some people have no shame. Nor should they. They should be proud of who they are. Except for the likes of you. You’re shameless. Shame on you.”

    “Well, I —”

    “Never. Obviously.”

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Floppy as Puppy Ears, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • As floppy as puppy ears

    As floppy as puppy ears

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that uses the idea or phrase, “floppy as puppy ears.” You can be explicit or implicit with your response. What is floppy and why? It doesn’t have to be about dogs at all. Go where the prompt leads!

    I’m always pleased that Charli says to ‘Go where the prompt leads!’ because that’s just where I go. It’s especially important to me this week as I have a few other distractions and thought I wouldn’t have time to respond, especially when I don’t know anything about puppy’s ears, let alone floppy ones. Anyway, it made me think of other comparisons, and that’s where I went — some familiar, some silly, some fun, and some special. I hope.

    My other distractions will be keeping me away from your blogs for a while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. See you then!

    As floppy as puppy ears

    As floppy as puppy ears

    As cute as a button

    As happy as Larry

    As cranky as a hippopotamus

    As ripe as a banana

    As silly as a sausage on a stick

    As weird as a walrus (but don’t tell it I said so)

    As tall as a giraffe

    As small as a flea

    As funny as a giggle

    As rude as a fart

    As crazy as a top hat on a donkey

    As scary as the dark unknown

    As awesome as a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis

    As amazing as children’s imaginations

    And, as wonderful …

    As you!

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt The One Who Left the Dress, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • The One Who Left the Dress #99WordStories

    The One Who Left the Dress #99WordStories

    This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about “the one who left the dress.” A 1940s-era dress still hangs in an abandoned house. Who left it and why? You can take any perspective and write in any genre. It can be a ghost story. Or not. Go where the prompt leads!

    For this story, I tried to write a little more about Sandy and Angus from my story last week. When I did, I wrote a lot more, well a lot more than 99 words anyway, so I’ve had to pare it back and take away a lot of the backstory. I hope that what remains makes sense on its own, and that you enjoy it.

    The One Who Left the Dress

    The rotten timbers remained upright thanks to the bushes, branches and vines. Grassy tufts sprouted through decaying floorboards where leaves, animal scats and other detritus littered. The only hint of previous occupants was a wardrobe, miraculously still standing. Sandy gasped as its door fragmented as she opened it. Using her phone’s torch, she peered through cobwebs and dust, hoping for treasure. All she found was a dress, completely in tatters, but still hanging.

    “Isn’t this your great grandmother’s — the one in the photo in the hall?”

    “Could be.” said Angus. “So what?”

    “I wonder why she left it here.”

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading, I appreciate your feedback, please share your thoughts.

    Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Remote, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

  • Someplace Remote #99WordStories

    Someplace Remote #99WordStories

    When Charli Mills at the Carrot Ranch prompted writers to Write a story that features someplace remote in 99 words (no more, no less). It can be a wild sort of terrain or the distance between people. What is the impact of a remote place? Go where the prompt leads!, I thought it would be easy.

    You see, I’ve visited remote places, I’ve holidayed in remote places, I’ve even lived in remote places. But none of these were the remote wilderness places that make wonderful settings for the excitement of adrenalin-pumping adventure stories. But maybe they could be if I wanted to set a story there?

    Anyway, this is a combination of places I’ve been and teenagers I’ve known. I also tried to throw in a bit about names. I find it amusing when names fit the person’s personality or role in some way. I’ve also been amused (but only slightly) to see so many country boys named Angus (including cousins, so, sorry cus). I guess if Sandy was named after the soil where her mother grew up, then Angus could be named after the cattle his parents breed. I hope it works. See what you think.

    The End of the Road

    Sandy coughed, gagged, groaned, and complained in the unbearable heat as the car slewed along the track with air-con and windows locked to keep out the dust, failing as miserably as Sandy’s attempts to convince her stupid parents to go home. No phone. No internet. No nothing. Might as well be dead.

    “When I was your age, there were no mobile phones or internet. You’ll survive. We did.”

    Don’t punish me for your deprived childhood.

    Finally, they arrived. Mum did the introductions.

    “Good name for yer,” said the boy, grinning.

    “I guess you’re Angus,” Sandy snapped. “Aptly named, too.”

    Thank you blog post

    Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.