How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


Quickie Update – NaNoWriMo


This is for inquisitive minds who need to know. Today is day 9 and counting down to zero for NaNaWriMo.

I’ve managed to stay in the game—still can’t believe it.  To say I am learning about keeping my balls in the air and scribbling in my notebook along the way, has opened my eyes in ways I could not have imagined. I have never attempted writing so grand a piece—I’m a short story enthusiast.

Writing something as large as 50,000 words has been daunting, humbling and informative. Eight days to go, and ONLY 5323 more words….

See you soon…


Flash in the Pan – Ripple


Wikipedia Commons

“Yes, sweetie? Did you bring the hairbrush?”

“Do you gots some more Peanut Butter Ripple Brownies?”

“Uh-huh—such pretty hair—why do you ask?”

“Um, can I have some in my lunch?”

“No, Lily, peanuts are not allowed at school, remember?”


“How about after school—come, let’s get your coat.”

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Click for the rules of this challenge.

The word limit for Ripple is 75 words. I have used 52.


Awards? On My!

A surprise. To ME as well, you see.

I wasn’t planning a post tonight–I’ been LEARNING–so–o-o-slowly. Since January, I’ve avoided posting awards—because I didn’t know HOW to put them on my blog–true story (and the responsibilities were so involved and time-consuming). On the other hand, I wondered how gratifying an award was–considering the blogosphere has SO many talented and exceptional writers.

For this award, I thank Mary Louise Eklund and my recompense is  five questions.

I acknowledge all my followers with this same award: I cannot choose and exempt! Please pick one up on your  way out after reading about my foibles. . . . And, thank you Louise!!

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1) If you could change something what would you change?

Hmm. My age? Not likely. My dreams–hm? Oh, yes. I would have started sooner had I known my life had the possibility of being much more exciting…

2) If you could repeat an age, what age would it be?

Are you NUTS? Who the heck would, in his or her right mind want to take that chance? Thanks, but I think forward. Life’s too short to think backwards.

3) What one thing really scares you?

Dying. Don’t make a fuss. I mean dying puts a stop to what I have in mind to pursue.

4) What one dream have you not completed yet and do you think you will be able to complete it.

As soon as I retired, I had my eye on the ball. There is only ONE for me now and I expect to pursue it–and I WILL. Write, write, write, as much as youd can?

5) If you could be someone else for the day, who would you be?

It’s hard enough being me, why the hell would I want to complicate my life MORE? Nope, I’m her for the


Introducing: Inanimate Objects

Perspectives is a biyearly literary magazine that is dedicated to giving life to inanimate objects. It goes a step beyond the proverb, “Don’t judge a man before you’ve walked a mile in his shoes.” Perspectives gets the imagination to step into an inanimate object’s skin and walk around in it. Delve into the world of inanimate objects. Read Perspectives. Direct any questions or feedback to the founding editor, Monique Berry, at

To read this exciting issue click:

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As well as introducing you to the latest issue of Perspectives,  I take this opportunity for blatant self-promotion (I am blushing, can’t you tell). You’ll recognize me by my picture between its covers.

I’m certain you’ll have lots of questions for the editor after  reading the unique articles. Go now, enjoy; afterwards, I hope you will share with your friends.


Old Bird, New Tricks. . .

Generally speaking, I’m a tough old bird. I have no allergies that I know of, except for sunscreen. I can’t wear it. A breakout of tiny, angry water blisters, which itch like the plague and break if I scratch, and itch more when they break, invade my pitiful sun-screened skin.

A couple of months ago, I made a new discovery. (I’m way too easy, you see.) It’s time, I decided, to stop using Dove soap on my face after eons of use. I haven’t had any problems: no extra lines or flaky skin, but a change would be good, I thought.

Enter Nivea Visage Replenishing Cleansing Cream Lotion (Mature Skin). I also splurged on Nivea Visage Rich Moisturizing Day Care with SPF 15. This was not a big investment; the price was right, the total  under twenty dollars. Oh, what a feeling; what a r-u-s-h a new jar of cream will bring! I felt like a new woman for several weeks. My face looked as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Until, the diaper rash!

I believe I have some Rosacea as do many women after a certain age. What I saw was something more. When my cheeks and chin broke out in pimples—with pin-sized yellow heads—my attention sprang into front row.  Mornings I looked great, no redness and no pimples—until I washed my face and applied the moisturizing day cream—hmm, curious.

My head has been someplace else lately. I noticed sort of, but didn’t put the  details together. Something made me stop the day cream and switch back to a long-time old faithful moisture cream. No change. Yikes. (I blush easily, which makes my face a deeper crimson and the added heat irritates this new condition.) Now the breakouts were becoming more of a problem because makeup didn’t hide them and everyone could see what was going on. Blush. Blush.

I stopped the cleansing lotion and went back to good old Dove soap. No immediate magic, but three days later, no more yellow heads—only angry red lines. I’d also been drinking buckets of coffee lately and have been a bit more stressed out than usual. Generally, not good.

So far, I’m pleased with my skin’s improvement. Why do I always need to chase the next best product when the current one is doing its job? What can I say? I’m vain to hope—hope there is still magic to be had. Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I don’t like to look my best and feel like a new woman once in a while. I’m sure vanity never goes away. Am I right? Sure I am.

First of all, I knew I had an allergic reaction to sunscreen? What is SPF 15, after all? But I forgot. So my head has been buried in the sand but no more. I hope I don’t have to give up coffee—or wine. Both of these aggravate Rosacea as does stress, but the big bad problem seems to be going away. . .

This feels like a service announcement. What? This is about ME. It is NOT an infomercial. Please.

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For information on Rosacea:


100-Word Challenge: Handsome and Tall!

The prompt this week is to go back to last week’s entries. You are to use the last 10 words of the post next to yours and using just 100 words create a story. It may continue from the previous one or you may like to take it in a different direction. So:

You find your entry HERE

You go to the next entry (if you were 6 you go to 7 etc.)
(I was #29, so I’m using #30 for my prompt from:  Sarah the suberbanite: What the Rabbit Was Late For.

The last 10 words were: But a flash of sun – and where did it go?

Using the last ten words as the prompt you write your piece. The prompt can be anywhere in the piece but must be complete as it was in the original.

If you didn’t take part last week, choose any entry to use the last 10 words from.

I continued again in the vein of my previous challenge.

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Before Alice makes for the door, the Mad Hatter blows in. Her eyes pop. He looks like Johnny Depp; handsome and tall. Maybe he’ll take her away.

“Come, let’s not dilly-dally.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Johnny Mad Hatter winks and hurries out.

“No. I want to go home. Will you help me?”

“We’ve a tea party to attend.”

“Not that again,” frowns Alice, “I’ve already heard you sing.”

“Would you rather paint Easter eggs?


The table is laid as before. The teapot is hot. But a flash of sun – and where did it go?


The Uninspired Chronicles – Reboot

For rules regarding the Uninspired Chronicles, go to:

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When I have an idea clamped in my teeth, I can’t sleep. I switch on the bedside light every ten minutes. ON to scribble something I don’t dare forget. OFF again. Good night. ON again. OFF again. So I lose a little sleep now and again. It’s just not often enough to be worth it!

On the other hand, when I have a brain cramp, I entertain myself  in unusual ways. Some efforts never work. Some work once in a long while. You have to have a sense of humour every now and again. I do try. More today than yesterday etc.

These are a few of my favourite prods (yes I need prodding, so I prod when I must).

Will it be a nudge, a poke, an elbow or a push this time? Let’s have a look.

1. Free write for 10 minutes about the first thing that pops into my head:  onions, the Easter bunny, what my grandkids did lately.  Aanything will do no matter how ridiculous.

Ninety percent will be garbage but usually a pattern will form.

2. Try prompts. A box of randomly selected words from the newspaper waits on my desk. The work spinach again? Ugh. Stinky socks—stinky socks?  Must I?

Sometimes this is even FUN.

3. I keep an envelope of pictures:  interesting faces, odd objects, shapes. I stare until I go cross-eyed. Something will come sooner or later. Sometimes much later.

Other times I just get a headache.

4. If staring doesn’t work, I head to the kitchen to chop, slice and dice until I end up with soup.  At least I’ve gained SOMEthing as well as a sense of accomplishment!

Not what I wanted but beggars can’t be chosers. (Apologies for the cliche.)

5. Do a brain dump when times are good. Plan ahead for the blocked days. Having some of these is a miracle but having something handy might help when I need it. Save everything.

Where did I file that great stuff I dreamed up last month? Why can’t I find it?

6. Writing often seems to keep the ideas coming. Life gets in the way, though.  There isn’t time enough for everything I want to do each day. Maybe I’m just too disorganized.

If all else fails or even when it doesn’t, I turn up the music. Remember marching bands? They still  get my heart thumping and rev me up.

Tomorrow is another day. Maybe next time. . .

I am such a fraud!

When I’m bored and can’t bang my head against the keyboard anymore, I try online challenges (something for everyone). Another reboot: I am energized by exchanging ideas, opinions and thoughts with amazing bloggers.


This is a LOON

I’ve been asked what a loon is after Share Your World #16 was posted. Google and I went to work. There are a zillion videos. Here are a couple links you might enjoy.

Canadian Loon

You might enjoy playing this in the background as you read your blogs. I find this soothing.

Grab a tea or coffee. Sit back, close your eyes and relax.


Truths, Lies and Wishful Thinking (not necessarily in that order)

I had a friend in a similar living arrangement as I’m in: daughter / husband / no children plus MOM living in granny suite downstairs. “Mom” met someone and moved OUT to live with new beau upsetting the status quo of the household. I got to thinking. Hmm. What if I met someone who got my mojo going? I’ve been abstaining virginal for a couple of decades—but, if I met someone now, which way was I likely to swing?

I’m no longer a nubile female. So, I suddenly realized I wasn’t. I freely admit that. OK, I’ll come clean—I’m a little older than that—over forty and then some. Well, maybe just a touch and a little bit.

If I think about it, some of the reasons I like living alone is that I’ve picked up habits over the years I’m not sure I can change. Also, I can get cranky, eat you out of house and home and drink all your fruit of the vine—on some days.

How does a body move in with her kids and then move OUT into a beau’s abode? What about the capital investment? Frankly, would I be the super granny to accept more change? Let’s see how things stack up in the sharing / living together department in my neck of the woods. What are my chances?

  1. When it gets cold out (or in), I get phlegmy. It’s not a nice word, I know, but I use it because I don’t know any other that says it like it is. There are times I have to work it out and sound like a sailor who’s choked up his gob of tobacc-y. Not lady-like, but this is my life.
  2. Not often, but at sporadic intervals, certain foods don’t agree with me the way they used to. I’m not fit for company. Why make someone else suffer just because I can’t be social? I don’t have a need to die of embarrassment even if I could find it in my heart to share those moments. I don’t want to do share-zees either. Phe-w!
  3. I’ve finally gotten in touch with myself and found I’m an OK old gal. Somehow, I’ve become greedy with my time and don’t want anyone to feel left out or ignored just because I have lots of plans that new beau might not be interested in. Well I AM and I’m going for it!
  4. I need to read to live. I can’t sit and watch football, baseball, hockey or golf as I’ve never been into sports before. Why would I change now at my ripe old age? It would upset me to hurt anyone’s feelings but on the other hand, I can’t keep changing all the time either. What about ME? If I can’t, he can’t either?
  5. I have only one bathroom. We would need to have two if you were to come on board. They would have to be far apart—I like my privacy. Also, I like to read in there so I don’t want anyone knocking on the door to tell me to hurry up. Some things take time. And, I don’t want anyone within shouting distance anyway.
  6. My bathroom time is sacred. Since I am not twenty forty plus and a little bit, it takes three times as long to get ready to face the world than ever before. I do not intend to share my secrets with anyone either. These have taken a long time to perfect and they are all mine.  I intend to keep them to myself. Forever. Especially the before part.
  7. When I shower, I might not feel like shaving. At my age I mostly need to shave in the summertime. In winter, there doesn’t seem to be a problem. Unwanted hair seems to thrive when there is heat. Still, should I not feel like shaving, it should be my choice, OK?
  8. I enjoy the company of other women. Why is that so strange to you? There are more women in my age group than eligible men. I’ve never been in a cat fight over a man in my whole life. Why would I want to start one now? I’d be outnumbered by all those other women, you see, vying for your attention. I’m just not willing to die this young—even in the name of lust or what have you. Do I even remember what that is?

There are lots more assumptions to examine. These are just a few but it’s a start. What a crazy world I live in now. Things aren’t as clear as they once were. I’m still able but am I willing or interested in any MORE changes in my life?

I need to sit down right about now. Maybe I could sip a glass of wine while I’m—you know—thinking about the possibilities. It could happen; I’m not sure I’m ready though!


(until next time)