Tag Archives: Children

Waiting #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about waiting. Where does this waiting take place? Does it have a past or a future outcome? Who is waiting and why? Go where the prompt leads!

For my response, I have tried to show that the waiting can feel different from different perspectives. I’m not sure if I achieved that, but I hope my story doesn’t gross some of you lovely readers out like last week’s ‘flakes’ story. 😂😉

I’m Bored

“For Christmas,” said Mum.

“But it’s a looooong time,” said Jamie.

“Not long enough,” said Dad. “Only three more pay days.”

“Wait till you’re my age,” said Grandpa. “It’ll be gone in a blink.”

“But there’s nothing to do,” said Jamie.

“When I was your age,” said Grandpa. “we’d be out all day, playing until dark.”

“Mum won’t let me go anywhere. Dad says no screens until after dinner. It’s boring.”

“Tell you what, kiddo. How’s about you and me take a walk and do some exploring. What d’you say?”

“Can I, Mum?”

“Sure. It’ll do us all good.”

Thank you blog post

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

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Flakes, including my gross one, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.

And just to let you know that life is pretty hectic for me at the moment so I may not get to visit you as often as usual, but I’ll still be thinking of you and will visit as often as I can. Thanks for your understanding.

Confidence #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about confidence. Is a character confident or struggling? Why? Is confidence cultural, compelling, or conflicting? What is the value of confidence? Go where the prompt leads!

Having an ‘I can’ attitude, or confidence, is something I always encouraged in my children, whether I birthed them or taught them. Maybe because it was never encouraged in me and is definitely not a strong suit, I’ve always found it important to nourish. A story about confidence should have been easy to write. I’m sure I’ve written many stories about confidence before, but I just couldn’t get one to work. I finally realised that what I was trying to write was based on a true event. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t get the ending. I decided to go with an anecdote rather than fiction. I hope you enjoy it.

That’s Confidence

When Bec was little I ran play/educational sessions for children and their parents at home.  I worked hard preparing the room, dedicated for that purpose, for our sessions. Finally, everything was arranged, with various art and craft materials organised in boxes and tubs.

Bec, 2½ years old, was excited. ‘Of course,’ I said when she asked if she could make something.

I’d only moved away for a moment when her excitement drew me back: ‘Look what I made!’ Her face beamed.

She’d upended nearly everything (exaggeration, only slight) and glued one cotton ball onto a piece of paper. Wow!

Look what I made! © Norah Colvin

Thank you blog post

Thanks for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

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

Balloons on the Bumper #99WordStories

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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.

Change is Coming #99WordStories

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When I read Charli’s prompt at the Carrot Ranch this week to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story to reflect the theme, “ready for a change.” Who is ready and why? How does the change unfold? What happened to initiate the change? Go where the prompt leads! I immediately thought of this Cat Stevens song.

As a young adult, I loved Cat Stevens’s songs and their messages of hope for better days. As an older adult, I still do. We could certainly do with some changes around the world at the moment.

I was lucky to see Cat Stevens in concert in 1972, which must have been about the same time as this video was recorded. It was amazing. So much wisdom. Sadly, we don’t seem to be any closer to the vision of these lyrics 50 years later.

‘Don’t you feel the day is coming

And it won’t be too soon

When the people of the world

Can all live in one room’

It took me a while to get past the Cat Stevens musical memory lane, but this is where I ended up. I hope you like it.

Change is coming

‘Get up,’ Pauline whispered.

He rubbed his eyes. ‘Why?’

‘Shh! He’s here.’

He trembled. ‘Take Rabbit?’

Out they crept, sliding against the wall to the door. A shout from downstairs. They froze. Pauline turned the knob. Quietly. Quietly. She pushed the door. Gently. Gently. Then cool air. Silent toes pattered down the stairs. Across the grass they ran and ran. All three, hand-in-hand. Pauline in front. Rabbit behind.

Finally, they banged on a door. ‘Grandpa! Grandpa! He’s come.’

Grandpa was in the doorway, ushering them into Grandma’s arms, picking up the phone.

‘Hush,’ said Grandma. ‘Everything will be alright.’

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 Free Pie can be read at the Carrot Ranch here.

Zipper Obsession #99WordStories

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about zippers. What are the zippers for? What challenges do they present to the story? Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response. I hope you enjoy it.

Zipper Obsession

Jayden was obsessed with zippers almost from birth. The swish of a zipper always turned tears to laughter.

When a toddler, Jayden’s fascination with interlocking teeth equalled the zip-zip-swish. Zippered items were treasured more than any store-bought toys.

When grandparents visited, Jayden targeted Grandma’s handbag. Zip. Zip …

“Is that boy still obsessed with zippers?” said Grandpa. “Has he been tested yet?”

“It’s just a phase,” said Dad.

“Humph,” said Grandpa, opening his Gladstone bag. Swhooosh.

Jayden stopped. What was that?

Grandpa closed the bag. Blonk.

Swhooosh; blonk. Swhoosh; blonk.

Jayden abandoned Grandma’s bag for Grandpa’s.

Zipper phase zipped.

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 Anxiety can be read at the Carrot Ranch here.

A Muddy Conclusion #flashfiction

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Last week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story embraces the mud. What is the mud, real or metaphor? How does it transform a character or place? What happens? Go where the prompt leads!

Although Charli gave an extended time in which to respond, I wrote my story Mud Cake Recipe in the usually one-week allocation. Some of your lovely comments encouraged me to continue the story a little further, which I have done here.

I hope you like it.

A Muddy Conclusion

“It’s just mud. It’ll wash off.”

“But it’s everywhere. Those children are unruly. My children would never —”

“And where are your children now?”

“Hmpff!” said the neighbour, stomping home, muttering about impudence, inconsideration and downright rudeness. “You haven’t heard the last of this.”

“Come on,” said the mother. “Let’s get you and the fence cleaned up.”

With buckets, brushes and rags, the children washed the fence. When it was done, they turned on each other. “Bullseye! Got you!”  They tussled and tumbled. Laughter filled the air.

The neighbour glowered at the mud-covered children. “Well, I never,” she said.

Thank you blog post

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

Mud Cake Recipe #flashfiction

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story embraces the mud. What is the mud, real or metaphor? How does it transform a character or place? What happens? Go where the prompt leads!

As you probably already know, as an educator, I primarily write for and about children. Mud is perfect for young children. It has such a great texture for play and responds in so many ways when we squish it, splatter it, stomp it, throw it, roll in it. There is something enticing about getting wet and dirty, and children seem to find puddles and mud totally irresistible. I hope I’ve captured a little of that excitement in my flash.

Mud Cake Recipe

How to Make Mud Cake

Ingredients

A patch of loose soil

A generous supply of water from the sky, hose or bucket

Rays of sunlight

A sprinkle of imagination

A torrent of laughter

Utensils

Gumboots

Method

Add enough water to soak the soil. It must be wet, not moist.

Stomp until well-mixed with no visible remnants of dry soil.

Squish the mush by hand until the hands are completely encased.

Spread by hand the gooey mixture over face, hair and clothing until well covered.

Terrorise the neighbourhood.

Leave in place until dry in the sun and the mud cakes.

Thank you blog post

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

Rainbow Flotilla #flashfiction

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This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story uses the phrase, “across the water.” It can be any body of water distant or close. Who (or what) is crossing the water and why? Go where the prompt leads!

This is my response. I hope you like it.

Rainbow Flotilla

She wrote a message on each piece of paper and folded them into tiny boats. At the lake, she launched them from the bank, then watched the rainbow flotilla sail across the water. Curious ducks investigated, capsizing one or two, but the rest sailed on. A turtle popped up, knocking one off-course. It smashed on the rocks, but the rest sailed on. A dragonfly alighted on one, enjoying the free ride as the rest sailed on, finally reaching the other side. A child fished one out and opened it to dry. He read the message, then smiled and waved.

Thank you blog post

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

Saddle Up Saloon; Chattin’ With Norah Colvin

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I had a great chat with my fellow Ranch-hand, writer and educator, D. Avery over at the Saddle Up Saloon at the Carrot Ranch. We discussed my favourite topics – children, education and writing. Not your usual saloon fare, eh? A bit dry for Kid and Pal too.

Unpacking the Greatest Gift - Comparatively Speaking

Unpacking the greatest gift — comparatively speaking

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Carrot Ranch flash fiction challenge - greatest gift

This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes the greatest gift. Answer it as if it were a question, or show what it could be. Go where the prompt leads you!

 

 

 

 

As usual, my mind jumps all over the place trying to find somewhere solid to land.

For example:

Do you remember learning the comparative and superlative at school?

great                    greater                 greatest

But what could be described as the greatest, indeed the greatest gift?

Muhammad Ali had no trouble in declaring that he was the greatest.

And ever since reading Charli’s post, I haven’t been able to get Whitney Houston out of my head.

According to liveaboutdotcom, Whitney Houston“has been cited by the Guinness Book of Records as the most awarded female performer of all time.” It appears that those awards were not enough. Perhaps had she been able to find that love, it would have been her greatest gift

Then there’s a chant I used to hear in the playground. A group of girls would gather and one would call out, “I am the greatest”. Others would respond, “No you’re not.” Then everyone would do a handstand. And so, it would repeat. I think whoever held the handstand the longest was entitled to call, “I am the greatest.” If only it were that easy.

I am the greatest - playground game

If one was to be the greatest at anything, would that be the greatest gift?

I’ve often said that a love of reading is one of the greatest gifts that a parent can give a child.

the love of reading is one of the greatest gifts a parent can give a child

It is one of the greatest gifts not only for the joy that reading can give, but even more because the ability to read is empowering. It enables one to fully participate in what societies have to offer, to navigate one’s way through our complex environments and seek knowledge for oneself.

If it is but one of the greatest gifts, what are the others, and is there one that is greatest of them all? Is it the gift of life? Of unconditional love? Of being accepted as you are? The most expensive car? The biggest house? The largest inheritance?

Was winning the World Heavyweight Championship the greatest gift for Muhammad Ali? The greatest number of awards wasn’t the greatest gift for Whitney Houston.

I think it’s too difficult to intellectualise. I’ve gone back to the concrete thinking of six-year-olds for my answer.

The Greatest Gift

The class was aflame with a mix of sadness and excitement.

“She’s is leaving.”

“She’s gunna have a baby.”

“I’m gunna bring her a gift.”

“I am too.”

On her final day, the children jostled to give first, hopeful she’d love their gift the best.

“Mine’s bigger than yours.”

“Mine’s better.”

“Mine’s the greatest.”

The children gloated and nudged each other as the teacher opened the gifts.

“How perfect.”

“This is great.”

“Thank you, everyone.”

Finally, Tommy edged forward. His hands were empty. He looked shyly into his teacher’s eyes and whispered, “I’ll miss you, Miss. You’re the best.”

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