Mandy Eve-Barnett's Official Blog

Inspiration for Writers & Building A Community ©

Mother’s Day, Memories and a Prompt…

May 9, 2014
mandyevebarnett


This Sunday is Mother’s Day (or Mothering Sunday) in Canada as well as other parts of the world. However, it is not recognized globally on the same day. For example Mother’s Day was celebrated on mother-and-child-30th March in England. When I investigated the reasons behind having a different date dependant on which part of the globe we resided, I was surprised to find that there are several dates throughout the year. Many have been linked historically to religious celebrations. (See link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mother’s_Day) No matter which date it is celebrated it is still a celebration to recognize the person who nurtured you.

The deep connection a mother feels for her children is never lost, whether those children are young or adult, they are always ‘my baby’. The umbilical cord maybe cut physically but never in an emotional way. As a mother, I am fiercely protective of my children and love them unconditionally, even though they are grown (one has left home!)  I know within my heart they are bound to me and always will be.

Even if your Mother is no longer in the physical world, their legacy of love continues – think of it as an echo of their loving protection always present within and around you. I will walk in the garden on Sunday to remember my Mother, who loved gardening and I know she will be with me in spirit. I will also  enjoy moments with my children as we enjoy a meal together and I can be as soppy as I like.

Quotes:

No language can express the power, and beauty, and heroism, and majesty of a mother’s love. It shrinks not where man cowers, and grows stronger where man faints, and over wastes of worldly fortunes sends the radiance of its quenchless fidelity like a star. ~Edwin Hubbell Chapin

Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible. ~Marion C. Garretty

Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What’s that suppose to mean? In my heart it don’t mean a thing. ~Toni Morrison

A mom reads you like a book, and wherever she goes, people read you like a glowing book review. ~Robert Brault

garden mother

Today’s prompt is to write something about your Mother. It can be a memory, a phrase, a distintive feature – honor her and love her.

My Mother was an intelligent, loving and hard working woman, who loved all her children and grandchildren with a deep, unrelenting and all encompassing fierceness. She was the glue that kept the family together and her legacy lives on within us. I know she and my Father continue to love us and are present in spirit – their love is too strong not to be.

http://www.worldliteraturetoday.org/world-mothers#.U2-SDvldWO1

Do You Practice Submitting Work..?

September 14, 2013
mandyevebarnett


Apprehension – awareness in advance, or anticipation of adversity or misfortune

When submitting to competitions, it is always with slight apprehension. Is the piece good enough? Does it align to the criteria? After reading past winners is our submission as exceptional?

To lessen the self doubt we can submit pieces just for fun. As I recently did with this short piece to another blogger after she requested her followers pick a prompt for her to write on. You can see her response here:

http://jlroeder.wordpress.com/2013/08/22/the-winner-is/

We need to practice in as many ways as we can to boost our confidence. As the old saying goes – Practice Makes Perfect.

Do you submit just or fun? Have you got any tips for novices?

weird-funny-pictures

http://www.funnyphotos.co.za/

There was Humphrey, big, bold and yellow. Weren’t shadows supposed to be black or at least grey? Martin only knew the brightness of the object before him from as long as his memory allowed. As a small child, Martin played for hours with his yellow playmate, making his parents happy that he could entertain himself so well at such an early age. They boasted about his ability until that fateful day.

“Your first day at school, Martin. Are you excited?”

“Yes, very. Humphrey and me will have such fun there.”

“Now, Martin, that’s enough of this Humphrey nonsense. Big boys don’t have invisible playmates, we’ve told you that before.”

“Yes, son you have to be a big boy at school. You want to fit in with all the other children don’t you?”

Martin looked from mother to father to Humphrey in bewilderment. Why wasn’t Humphrey allowed to go to school with him? When Martin protested that Humphrey was real, his parents got mad and forbid him from mentioning his invisible friend again. Tears flowing down his cheeks, Martin ran to his room shouting back as he went that Humphrey wasn’t invisible at all.  In fact he was bright yellow and his parents must be blind if they couldn’t see him.  Martin didn’t get supper that evening.

Now Martin sat on a park bench unable to steady his emotions. He had needed to walk away from Cheryl and Tommy for a few moments. Humphrey had been his dark secret for decades. A constant companion through school and college but never shared with anyone not even Cheryl. They had courted and married without Cheryl ever knowing she was part of a trio.

“Daddy, are you alright? Did I do something bad?”

Tommy’s little face shone up at Martin, an innocent five year old, who saw the world as a fascinating place.

“No, Tommy, you didn’t do anything bad. It’s just that no one else has ever seen Humphrey. I was shocked when you asked him to play with us.”

A shadow fell over father and son. Martin looked up at Cheryl unsure how she would react.  He sighed with relief when he saw her smiling.

“Now your secret is out maybe you can be a more relaxed person, Martin. What do you think?”

“I love you both more than ever before. Come on Humphrey we need to make sandcastles.”

A Case of the Doldrums…

June 24, 2013
mandyevebarnett


Doldrums – definition: a state of in activity or stagnation, as in a business or art.

teens-getting-bored

Although the definition state,s in relation to a business or art, I heard this expression throughout my childhood, mostly in school. My parents and grandparents would not let my siblings or I ‘mooch’ about or use the words ‘I’m bored’ or ‘It’s boring”! There was either a suggestion of something we could do or we would ‘escape’ the suggested activity by suddenly finding something better to occupy ourselves.

The most difficult age is probably teenage, for the ‘I’m bored’ statement. The transition from childhood toys and make believe games to more adult pursuits is a challenge. Teens do not want to be perceived as childish but do not have the skills to find other outlets for entertaining themselves (in the most part). There are numerous playgrounds for smaller children but the lack of areas for teenagers is glaringly obvious. Without defined spaces and activities the teenagers become the brunt of adult derision. They are viewed as trouble makers, when all they really need is a dedicated space for activities.

In the English village I used to live in, I struggled to get the simplest requests approved because of this  misconception. Eventually we managed to get a half pipe for skate boarding placed and there was a field marked out for soccer and a tennis court. However, when we requested a flood light so the teens could use these facilities at night, it was refused. The use of the small pavilion was also refused – ‘they might cause damage’ – being sited as the reason. Not all teenagers are hooligans and most would appreciate and respect their own dedicated space. If they have something to do and are not in the doldrums there is less likelihood they will be troublesome.

To my way of thinking this is the age more effort should be put into.

Can you remember being in the doldrums? Did you use the phrase I’m bored?

Holy Memories…

June 15, 2013
mandyevebarnett


Sacrosanct – definition:  highly sacred or holy

I was taken back to my early childhood by this word. My first school was actually within a convent and we were taught by nuns. Even all these years later, I can conjure up the feel and smell of the nun’s habit. When they walked, it was a floating motion with only an odd glimpse of sturdy black shoes underneath. We never saw what color a nun’s hair was as it was tucked into their coif. Most of the time they wore black habits with white coifs but if they were working on the farm, it would be grey habits. Yes, there was a farm in the grounds where the nun’s grew vegetables and kept cows and goats. As children we never questioned seeing several nun’s herding the cows!

My convent school was called St. Finians.  __67474b5700981c1d48916d79171d76f0My time there is a precious memory. I always felt loved and cared for by the nun’s. Mother Superior could be scary, though. If we made too much noise coming down the stairs, she would tap her ring  on the brass hand rail. The sound would go from the top to the bottom of the circular staircase instantly. Of course, I had my favorite’s and when one was sent to Africa I cried all night.

St Finians ChurchThis is the church, where we held assembly. The scent of incense is another memory trigger. When the nun’s sang their voices filled this massive building.

When my parents told me I was going to a new school at the age of 11, I cried and pleaded constantly for three days. I wanted to stay at St. Finians – forever! My next school was an Elizabethan mansion converted into a school with a huge modern building in the grounds. It was certainly a culture shock for me.

What was your first school like?

My Past Homes…

April 21, 2013
mandyevebarnett


ChurchHamlet – definition: a small village

As a child I grew up in a village called Upper Bucklebury and yes it is part of the collection of hamlet’s called Bucklebury, where the Duchess of Cambridge lived. The house we moved into was in a new development and I can remember playing in the construction sites (not something children do now a days!) as the other homes were being built. Eventually young families moved in, giving us lots of friends to play with. With a forestry commission tree planation at the bottom of the road and common land to play in, which was not far on our bikes, we were very happy. This beautiful church was actually in Bucklebury village down the hill from where I lived.

PubThis pub was along the road from my old house. I have visited the village in recent years unfortunately it has been built up with fancy houses, which is a real shame. I will always picture the village as it was in my childhood though. Hours playing in the woods and racing bikes and go-carts down the hill.

Sign

Before coming to Canada I lived in another delightful village called Vernham Dean. With a small village school, a pub and a small shop we were surrounded by fields. The school had a massive upgrade, which was sorely needed. Here are a couple of photos.

School frontSchool back

The oldest part of the village was along the valley road. Here are some of the cottages along it. The middle one is the pub.

CottageThatched Roof

The George

The ChurchCottages

My new surroundings and country has different aspects and terrain. I am gradually becoming accustomed to it. Including the snow fall…!

Snowfall 217                                                                     But once summer arrives :  Me&cars

 

 

No Sunday Snippets from me today but please pop over to the other writers sites.

Please enjoy everyone’s snippets – here is the list.

http://mermaidssinging.wordpress.com/

http://caitlinsternwrites.wordpress.com/

http://ileandrayoung.com

http://wyrmflight.wordpress.com/

http://www.mandyevebarnett.com

http://womanbitesdog.wordpress.com/

http://jennykellerford.wordpress.com

http://jennifermeaton.com/

http://richardleonard.wordpress.com

http://jordannaeast.com

http://letscutthecrap.wordpress.com

http://writerscrash.blogspot.ca/

http://joeowensblog.wordpress.com/

Blog at WordPress.com.