90th Birthday Party.

Bernice turned 90 years old at the beginning of August. Her family put on a small party for her inviting some family, and friends. Some friends who travel on the same bus trips with her. And past bus drivers, who had taken her on trips.

Here are some of the photo I took.

The three in this photo all have their birthday on the same date - mother, daughter, and grandson. That is why there are two cakes.

Winter Fingers

These are two rugs which I finished recently. The wool was passed on to me from those people not wanting to use it. Each one has been give to a lady who passes them on to people who are in need. I hurried up to finish them while the weather was cool enough to work with such weight on the lap, and not be hot. I had slowed down during the summer months. Now, with the colder months, the writing has slowed because the house is like a freezer. But I have completed the two rugs. I have another one on the go. I am trying to catch up with bits of writing while I have a couple of days of peace. I also seem to have more non interrupted time since I have added my phone number to the "No More Calls" list.

This story is another one I have written for ABC Open.

Winter Fingers


I shivered throughout the night.


The quick change in the weather from hot, to chilly, had all the muscles crying with pain.


In the early hours of the morning, I slipped, shivering, from my cold bed in the search of blankets.


Rivulets of Arctic fire shot up my legs from my feet, when they encountered the wooden, polished


floor.


In the darkness, I opened the cupboard door to grab what felt like blankets, then rushed back to my


bedroom. I shook out each one to dump on the bed before climbing in to try to build some warmth.


Didn't happen.


The chill had settled into my bones.


My feet were like icebergs.


I was still trying to warm my body when my uncle rang.


“I use a thermal blanket,” was his reply, to my complaints. “I only need the one.”


“Yeah,” I thought, remembering where he lived. And the air-conditioner he used to warm his room


before going to bed.


Thermal. The word rang bells.


I had one of those. Somewhere.


I had no intentions of spending another frosty, sleepless night.


I stripped the bed.


After four loads of washing I began my search. Downstairs.


I pulled a striped bag from a wardrobe. Placing it on the bed I zipped it open.


Surprise. Surprise.


No. not the thermal. New blankets still in the package. Never been used.


My triumph faded when I read the size. Queen. Double, I needed.


Not to be beaten. I carried the three packets upstairs.


The mattress had to be turned. With aching fingers I struggled to lift the mattress. Walked it across the base before lowing it to the base.


I set to build my cocoon.


Blanket.


Sheets.


Three new blankets.


New comforter with matching pillowcases.


The over used, shrunk blankets were packed in bags ready to be recycled.


Exhausted. I slipped between the sheets after a warm shower.


Shivering, I couldn't hold the book to read, I cast it aside. Switched off the lamp.


Pulled up the blankets to my ears.


Oh.


What a wondrous haven?


Within minutes I was as warm as freshly toasted bread.


The rising of the sun woke my from a deep sleep. The sheets were hardly rumpled because I hadn't


moved much in my sleep. I put my arm out from the warmth to the cool morning air.


Groaned.


Shivered.


Whipped the covers back into place then went back to sleep.


I'm waiting to see if the fingers of winter that seep through the walls will penetrate the wall of


warmth I have built. With the large blankets reaching the floor, I hope they can't.


Once started on my search I kept going, cleaning, eventually, finding the thermal blankets.


Two weeks of turning out hiding places.


Dusting and moping.


With aching muscles I finished by polishing the stair railings.


The job is completed.

Until I decided to search for another hidden treasure.

Phew!!! Nearly lost the story. I pushed the wrong button. But I found the right one to return it to my file.

Desert Roses

I have changed to growing Desert Roses. (Photo above)
In the past. I liked to grow Cactus.
Due to a disease which go to them I lost all but one. Its just hanging on for dear life. The plant rotted after being covered by some mildew type of fungus.

Now. I'm having fun finding different colours in Desert Roses. I have been collecting them when I have been visiting markets. But there are only some many different colours.

For some reason. I went searching for different colours on the net. Well. Not at first. I searched for another plant I had been trying to find. Searching I found all these different Desert Rose plants. More seeds then plants.

The packets of seeds are arriving. And I'm busy germinating. All have sprouted plants. I just have to wait to see if they flower is the same as the picture I liked.

The above photos are of different stages of the germinating process I have been using.
Once I planted seeds but receive nothing for my trouble. Planting in the soil didn't work. Or I'd been given the wrong seeds.

Then the next time I tried. I had success. I filled a flat plastic container with potting mix. Made a shallow gutter in the middle. About the depth of the first knuckle of my finger. I laid the opening pod face up in the gutter then scraped a little of the potting mix over the top.

What a success. I ended up with over 40 seedlings.

Then. Not wanting to waste money buying seedlings. I decided not to place them in soil. I had read up on different ways to germinate the seed. I put all that together to come up with my own version. I placed water in trays I'd placed on the bench. Sat cotton wool balls in the water. Then I placed a seed on each one.

Surprise. Surprise. Within a few days. The shouts were coming out of the shell. Once they were big enough I planed them into small pots. I have another two trays set waiting. And watching. For the shouts to appear. I've had a 100 percent strike rate so far.

I just have to wait for them to grow to produce the first flower.

Chili Thief

Ah! Caught you.

My Bird's Eye Chili kept disappearing. Not that I use too many.

I knew there was some bird taking them but I could never take a photo of it. I looked out the window one morning and there it was perched in the bush eating the chili whole.

I quickly rushed to the kitchen to grab my camera. Without out making too much noise to alert it to what I intended to do. I set the camera for distance. Pulled back the curtain. Aimed the lens through the security screen design to focus on the bird. I snapped a couple before it flew away.

Its stomach must have been on fire. Or by swallowing the chili whole the heat didn't affect the stomach.

Dead. Or Alive.

   Hasham Croyden closed his office early to go home to his wife, Stella.

 Stella doesn’t like storms. The approaching storm promised to be wild, 

windy, and wet. Accompanied by a striking lightning show with booming 

thunder. The rain pelted down on Hasham soaking his clothes on his race to 

his car. He wanted to reach home before the full force of the storm reached 

their home. Hasham didn’t want Stella fear of storms to bring on an early 

labor.

   The power of the storm built every minute Hasham sat stuck in traffic. 

   He tried to take different streets to escape the gridlock. No matter how many 

turns he took movement crawled at a snail’s pace. Facing a few close shaves. 

Many blaring car horns at his reckless he took. Hasham fought his way to 

the city limits where the traffic thinned out. Though the traffic had thinned 

the rain pelted down clouding his vision of the road ahead. The curving 

mountain road which has many sharp bends. Sheer sides down to the valley 

Below. Trees, and boulders, littered the progress of the car if you were lucky. 

Or the car didn’t explode on impact.

   Trying to avoid not seeing the edge of the road, Hasham kept to the 

middle of the sealed section. Half way up the mountain, on a sharp bend, a 

car with high beam lights, came out of the darkness straight for him. The 

driver of the car drove at speed unsuitable for the weather conditions.

   Hasham pulled hard to the left on the steering wheel to avoid a collision. 

Slammed his foot on to the brake. Too late. The wheels had no traction. His 

car had become airborne. The bump from the other car sent his car over the 

edge to crash down through the trees. And over boulders.

   The driver of the other car swerved to miss Hasham’s car. Skidding om 

the wet road. The back end clipped Hasham’s car bumping it over the side of 

the mountain. He tried to correct the slide of the car. Over correction had the 

car colliding into the side of the steep cutting flipping the car to roll over a 

few times before finally coming to rest in the middle of the road.

   Thunder rolled. Lightning flashed over the deadly scene.

   A truck crawling up the incline had a chance to brake before he smashed 

into the upturned car in the dark. Only for the flash of lightning, the truck 

driver wouldn’t have seen the car. Quickly, applying the trucks caution 

lights. 

He sent out a call over the radio warning of the accident. Stepping down 

from the cab, after retrieving his flashlight, the driver rushed to the up turned 

car to search for the driver. Hearing moaning from the car, the trucker faced 

the torch to shine through the broken windscreen. The car driver hung in his 

seat-belt.

 “Are you, okay, mate,” asked the truck driver of the man struggling to 

release his seat-belt.

   “Let me out of here,” came the slurred voice of the man. “I don’t want to 

die.”

   “Were there any other cars involved in the accident?”

   “I’m not sure. Two flashes. Lightning. Blinded.”

   The truck driver backed away from the car. “Don’t leave me here.” 

Keeping on walking, he shone the flashlight around. Making his way across 

to the edge of the road, he found where Hasham’s car went crashing down 

the side of the mountain. Focusing through the rain into the darkness, he 

Finally found what looked like a headlight of a car.

   Sirens were approaching. Eerily flashing lights slowly made their way up 

the mountain. The thunder. And lightning moved further to the west leaving 

behind a misty rain. Emergency vehicles made their way around the truck, 

and car, to reach the curve. They needed to block the road to stop other 

traffic bursting on to the accident scene.

   “Only one car,” asked the leader of the emergency services.

   “No. There’s another car over the side.” He showed where the car went 

over the side.

  Portable lights were set up to light the accident scene. Paramedics worked 

to free the driver of the first car. Besides a few cuts from flying glass, and 

bruising. He didn’t have any life threatening injuries. But. Alcohol. How 

much had he consumed before getting behind the wheel of his car?  

   Rescuers slowly abseiled down to where Hasham’s car had come to rest. 

The first person on scene checked Hasham over. Didn’t find a pulse. On 

being retrieved. The paramedics didn’t find any sign of life. Declared dead. 

His body placed in a bag to be delivered to the morgue.

   The police went to the home of Hasham to notify Stella her husband had 

died in the accident. Shock from the news. And the terror she had been 

through with the fear of storms. She went into immediate labor. Crumpling 

to the floor. Unconscious.

   A call was made for an ambulance to be sent to the home of Hasham 

Croyden. Unconscious woman possibly in labor.

   By the time the paramedics arrived the head of the baby had crowned. A 

baby girl born a few minutes later. The mother opened her eyes to find her 

entrance hall packed with people.

   “What happened?” Stella turned her head to the right at the wail of her 

baby. Her hands automatically went to her stomach.

   “You have a beautiful daughter,” one paramedic told her.

   “Why, now? She should have been a son. A son who looked like my-” 

she sniffed. “He’s dead. Isn’t he? I remember being told.”

   “Yes,” said the policewoman who’d been standing near the doorway. 

“We need someone to identify the body. Do you have a relative willing to do 

this for you?” 

   “I’ll do it. Where did they take him?”

   “Once you’ve been settled...”

   “No. I want to see him on the way to the hospital to show him his 

daughter. Or I won’t budge.”

   Stella and her baby, were loaded into the ambulance for the journey to 

the hospital. The police led the way down the mountain past the area where 

the accident had happened. People still worked to clear the area.

   Arriving in town, the police, and paramedics went with her to the morgue. 

She had to ride there in a wheelchair. One of the paramedics carried the 

baby. They were all led into the room where the body bag waited to be 

opened. The zip was slide down enough to open for her to see Hasham.

   The baby wailed.

   A deep suction of air echoed around the quiet room.

   Hasham opened his eyes. Sat up. “Where am I?”

   Stella screamed. Her head flopped back against the chair. Now out for 

the count. again.

   One paramedic rushed over to Hasham. He checked his pulse.

   “What’s going on here?” Hasham looked at all the shocked faces.

   “Are you Hasham Croyden,” asked the policewoman. Hasham nodded. 

“You were in a car accident. You were declared dead at the scene. You were 

brought to the morgue.”

   Confused. Hasham shook his head. “Who thought up this joke?”

   “No joke, sir. You can read all about this in tomorrows newspaper. The 

driver who hit you will be pleased you are alive. He won’t be facing a 

manslaughter charge.” The baby wailed once again. “While you have been 

out of circulation. Your wife gave birth to a baby girl. Congratulations.”

   “Time to deliver this family upstairs to a warm, comfortable bed,” said 

the paramedic with the baby. Another wheelchair arrived to take them all to 

emergency to be checked over.

                                     ------------------------------------------

I received an e-mail from someone suggesting the topic of a person declared dead at the scene but later returned to life. This is the way I set up the story.

If you want to follow my stories on ABC just use the link.

https://open.abc.net.au/projects/500-words-personal-challenge-56xt3jr/contributions/don-t-look-down-03ed0ei

This is a 500 word story I did on the fear of heights. There are a few other stories on different topics. New ones are put up each month. Have to do my one for March. Yet.