Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #406
using the word “decisive”. In 39 words, this is my flash.
Tag: Non-fiction
Tuesday’s Child: A Waltmarie
Written for dVerse Poets Meet At the Bar:
The Poetry of Names. Just last week
the theme at Song Lyric Sunday was
songs that feature our names.
This is my Waltmarie.*
To Tell The Truth
Written for Kymber’s Get To Know You #55.
What Are Two Truths And A Lie?
Here’s my response.
Electra Glide In Blue
Written for dVerse Poets Quadrille Monday.
The prompt word is ‘indigo’; this is my quadrille.
Bug Off!
Written for John Holton’s Writer’s Workshop
for the week of February 13-20 in response
to his prompt: Tell us about an encounter
with a bee or wasp (or hornet). Here’s my story.
Boxful Of Memories
Written for Esther’s Writing Prompts #50
where the prompt word is “photographs”.
This is my family’s true story.
Don’t Look Away
Shweta is our host for the
Saturday Six Word Challenge (6WSP) #122.
This week’s prompt word is “struggle”.
Here is my 6 word flash.
My Dad’s Lesson: Dectina Refrain
When my father emigrated to the US
from Sicily, he was given advice that
changed his life. With that in mind,
this is my response to dVerse Poetics:
For the Love of the Broadsheet.
I have chosen a Dectina Refrain.
The Raffle
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #398,
incorporating the word “winner” and for Sue & Gerry’s
Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge using the prompt
word “blanket”. In exactly 95 words, this is my story.
Getting To Know Me
Written for Kymber Hawke’s Get To Know You #46
Here are her three question and my three answers.
This Or That
Written for Kymber Hawke’s Get To Know You #45.
Here are her three questions and my three answers.
WordPress Daily Prompt
Just Our Luck!
Shweta is our host for the Saturday Six Word Challenge – #115.
This week’s prompt word is “fortune”. Here is my 6 word story.
The Eighth Of December
A tribute to John Lennon who was taken from us on this date in 1980. Many of you have read this; many of you who are new to my site have not. Please indulge me one more time. Roughly four years ago I had the great pleasure and honor of narrating a few of my stories on the BBC Radio program called “Upload”. I also submitted my story, “The Eighth of December”, never expecting to receive an email from the program manager of the radio station asking me if I’d like to read my story and do a live interview. To us here in The States, The BBC is a pretty big deal so I was rather blown away and, despite my nerves, I agreed to the interview. The format of the radio station has since changed and “Upload” was replaced by another show; it’s now impossible to find my interview. All I have is my story; every word is true. This is “The Eighth of December”.
Continue reading “The Eighth Of December”Who Could Ask For More
This week at Writing Prompts, Esther has teased us
with the word ‘gifts’. Meanwhile, Gerry and Sue
at Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge have
offered up the word ‘decorations’. This is my story.
So This Is Christmas
This week at Writing Prompts, Esther has teased us
with the word ‘Christmas’. Here are some happy
childhood memories from a piece I wrote in 2018.
This is my 2024 version of “So This Is Christmas”.
On The Other Side
Written for The New, Unofficial, On-Line Writer’s Guild.
The three prompts this week from TN at OLWG #393 are
1) night will end; 2) look, over there, did you see that?; and
3) sittin’ on a rainbow. This is my story, based on true events
experienced by my son and his wife. Believe or not; it’s all true.
Becoming Strangers: A Dectina Refrain
Written for Sue & Gerry’s Weekly Prompts Weekend
Challenge – ‘damaged’. This is my Dectina Refrain.
Paternal Pardon
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #391
incorporating the word “vicinity” in exactly 50 words.
Also for FOWC – ‘traditional’, FOWC – ‘doubt’ and
Gerry C & Sue W’s Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge
– ‘nurturing’. In exactly 50 words, this is my flash.
Seeing Red
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #390
incorporating the word “diamond” in exactly 19 words
and based on a true event I’ll never forget. Here’s my flash.
In Prescious Moments Of Lucidity: A Haibun
Written for d’Verse Poets where our inspiration
today is “reflection”. Here is my haibun.
Getting To Know Me – 11.9.24
Written for Kymber Hawke’s Get To Know You, This or That #40.
Here are her three question and my three answers.
Let It Out
Written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge
and Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge incorporating
the words ‘leaves’ and ‘judge’. This is my story.
It’s been 16 years but I can remember everything about that night.
We were out to dinner with our friends Lily & Mac and Karen & Rob. I had been feeling a little anxious the whole day but figured I’d be fine at dinner – after all, these were people I knew and loved and who knew and loved me. Sitting at the table I was uneasy but hoped the feeling would subside.
It didn’t. It continued to build as I sat surrounded by a room full of seemingly stress-free people laughing and enjoying themselves while I was ready to bolt. I was with friends I’ve known for years and I was freaking out, convinced everyone knew something was wrong.
There I was, not only stressing over life in general but stressing over the fact that I was stressing and everyone knew it and they were just waiting for me to explode. I figured I had four choices: I could fake it and try to pretend everything was ok; have a meltdown, which would make us all uncomfortable and solve nothing; I could say I had a headache and go home – after all, everyone leaves their table for one reason or another; or I could face the truth and tell my friends how I was feeling. I chose the last approach. Apprehensively, not knowing how anyone would react, I told my friends I was having a panic attack.
No one had a clue.
What happened next was incredible. By admitting the truth, revealing my fear and vulnerability, everyone embraced me (not physically, of course – that would have been weird) but they all let me know it was ok. Whatever I wanted to do was ok. And more important than anything else, they did not judge me.
I chose to stay. Immediately, Karen reached into her purse, handed me the business card of her psychologist and said “Call her”. Lily then told me she also went to the same psychologist and quietly poured out her heart to me, unburdening herself while simultaneously letting me know I wasn’t alone. I was so engrossed in what Lily was telling me, I didn’t even realize my anxiety had passed. I had eaten my dinner and people were ordering dessert. The evening actually wasn’t a disaster.
The next day Lily called to check on me. I’ll never forget what she said: “You know, I was sitting next to you and I didn’t notice anything wrong. You looked perfectly fine and if you hadn’t said anything we never would have known.”
That was amazing to me! No one noticed the ticking time bomb at the table.
What a huge eye-opener that was. It made me realize that how I perceive myself is not necessarily how others perceive me. Being stoic and trying to hide my anxiety isn’t helpful; in fact, it could make things worse. Opening myself up and exposing my vulnerability showed me it’s ok to let others know “Hey, I’m freaking out right now and I need help.”
I learned a valuable life lesson that night: Let it out and let someone in.
NAR©2024
This is “Under Pressure” featuring Queen, Annie Lennox and David Bowie
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
On The Road Again
Six weeks after my spinal fusion surgery I have been given the all clear to start driving again! Woot woot! 🥳
This is very exciting news for me; however, some people may feel differently knowing I’m back on the road. Well, you’ve been warned! Just saying. 😆
NAR©2024
Author’s Note: Kidding aside, I am so grateful to be doing this well after major surgery. Both Bill and I are delighted with our new-found freedom; he’s been my chauffeur for the past six weeks. I’m really an excellent driver and in the 53 years I’ve been driving, I have never gotten a moving violation (and it’s not because the police have been unable to catch me!). 😎
This is “I Can’t Drive 55″ by Sammy Hagar
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
1968: A Dectina Refrain
Written for dVerse Poetics: Fall (in) Love,
this is my Dectina Refrain.
I
met him
in the fall,
tanned from summer.
He was a bronzed god,
hair as gold as the sun,
eyes like burnished copper glowed.
He warmed the chill from out my bones,
thawed the late Autumn frost in my heart.
I met him in the fall tanned from summer.
NAR©2024
Happy Birthday to my husband Bill. We met in the fall of 1968. 🤎
This is “Bill” from Showboat performed by the Rebecca Trehearn
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
As Days Grow Short
Written for dVerse Poets Haibun Monday where
the theme today is “equinox”. This is my haibun.
It’s now one month post op. I have spent a lot of time looking out my bedroom window contemplating the healing transformation of my body and the seasonal metamorphosis as we gently slip from summer into autumn. I had been facing physical limitations as I aged; they have now been compounded by my back surgery. On bad days I curse myself for agreeing to this procedure but I know it was the right choice. Getting back on my feet is taking longer than I anticipated. Like the brittle tree branches that come with autumn, my bones are not what they once were. But now I have a chance to walk among the fallen crimson and golden leaves instead of simply watching them drop from the trees and for that I’m grateful. I am better today than I was two weeks ago and in two more weeks I’ll be better than I am today. It’s a process.
warm burnished tones of autumn
as days grow short
the earth prepares for new life
NAR©2024
This is “Autumn In New York” by Billie Holiday
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
And The Music Goes Round And Round
Written for Keith Allen’s Various Ramblings of a Nostalgic Italian
and his new blog “The Toy In Your Life”. Here’s what I had to say.
For as long as I can remember, music has been in my life in one form or another. There was never a time when I was not singing in a choir or choral group, either in church or school. My family was musical and the house was always alive with radio music, records playing, someone practicing the piano, someone else playing the mandolin, someone tinkering with the guitar, recorder, squeezebox, drums, and everyone singing, singing, singing.
I will always remember my Christmas present when I was 12 years old … a portable record player which my parents repeatedly made very clear was not ‘a toy’. I knew that! The toy phonographs came with Howdy Doody decals or Mickey Mouse ears and were made out of cardboard painted to look like leather or plastic. I had those toy record players which didn’t last very long; this was the real deal. To me, my teal blue General Electric Solid State record player was ‘the Holy Grail’! My parents spent “good money on that thing” and expected me to treat it with respect. What they didn’t predict was how I would worship that suitcase phonograph every day of my life.
This baby had built-in speakers that really blew! And a real diamond tip needle. My older cousin Joseph taught me the proper way to raise and lower the arm and how to safely get the dust off my records. My parents gave me and my sister a weekly allowance and I used most of my money to buy records.
The first 45 to grace my record player was “Da Doo Ron Ron” by the Crystals (which was prophetic because “his name was Bill”!). The early girl groups were my idols; I loved their sound and their lyrics were perfect for young girls with hormones working overtime. Then the Beatles invaded the US and my life was changed forever.
That GE teal blue record player became my best friend and I took very good care of it. After I was married, we had a hi-tech stereo system in the living room but I still kept my phonograph upstairs in the bedroom where we’d listen to romantic tunes like “A Million To One”, “Daddy’s Home”, “I Only Have Eyes For You” and “Ooh Baby Baby”. When our sons were old enough, I handed down my record player to them and now our 15 year old granddaughter has it in her bedroom. Her latest purchase was the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy which is pretty damn cool.
Thanks to Keith Allen for the invitation to write a little something on his new blog. I hope you enjoyed what I had to share today.
I’m Nancy, The Sicilian Storyteller.
See you on the flip side. 😎
NAR©2024
This is “Da Doo Ron Ron” by the Crystals
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Crop Invaders: A Haibun
Written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge and
Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge where the
required words are “wrong” and “hoarding”. This is my haibun.
The exact year escapes me but it was a long time ago, to be sure. It was the summer we returned from vacation to find our tomatoes had ripened into gorgeous red orbs ready for eating. I could practically smell that grassy-green, spicy-sweet summery aroma. But something seemed wrong, off somehow. I felt like I was not alone in my garden, like I was being watched. Taking a closer look, I discovered disturbingly large caterpillars feasting on our lovely harvest. The bloated green creatures blended in so well with the underside of the leaves, it took a few seconds to register why our crop was full of gaping holes. Probing, boring, ravaging, gorging, hoarding. No tomato was salvaged that summer. Not one. That was the year I stopped planting tomatoes.
garden interlopers
devastation
signaling summer’s end
NAR©2024
This is “End of Summer” featuring Katie Melua and L.U.C. from The Peasants soundtrack
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Remembering Roberta
Written for Song Lyric Sunday. This week Jim Adams has asked his
readers to choose a song that makes them think about life. Here’s mine.
To talk about my featured song, I first need to tell you about my friend, Roberta. She and I had been friends since our sons attended nursery school together, some 44 years ago. Even back then in her early 30s, Roberta had a shock of gorgeous silver-white hair that was always perfectly yet casually coiffed. Just like my grandmother, Roberta’s hair color changed when she was in her 20s and I never saw her with a different color or style.
Roberta’s laugh was one of a kind …. some might call it a cackle …. and you heard her long before you saw her! She rarely took life too seriously and was very forthcoming with her opinions, whether you wanted to hear them or not. I guess you could call her a ‘free spirit’; she lived very much in the moment, often arriving late for appointments because she ran into someone who needed a friend to talk to.
There was never any doubt where you stood with Roberta. If she was pissed off about something, you knew it. She’d speak her mind, clear the air and never mention the issue again. Done and forgotten. But not just forgotten …. forgiven as well. She didn’t hold a grudge; I always thought that was an admirable trait. And she didn’t lie. If anything, she was too honest and her ‘bluntness’ could turn people off. She really didn’t care what people thought about her; life was not a popularity contest. As I said, people always knew exactly how Roberta felt.
She was a devout Catholic, attending Mass every weekend, but she was never showy about it. Roberta and her husband Martin were in charge of the church’s food pantry …. collecting food for families in need …. and not just during the holidays or when a crisis hit but every day of the year …. however, the holidays were very important to Roberta, especially Christmas. That was when she amped up the drive for food, clothes and gifts for needy families in the area, especially the children. In all the years I knew Roberta, I don’t remember anyone else heading up the food pantry except her. She and Martin were special people, far from saints but doing God’s work in an unassuming way.
It came as a terrible blow to everyone when Roberta became dangerously ill almost overnight in August 2014 and was diagnosed with West Nile Virus (for which there is no vaccine or cure although most people recover with proper care). Roberta had an extremely virulent case and within days she lapsed into a coma and never regained consciousness. At one point, she was the only documented case of “death by West Nile Virus” in Westchester County, NY.
The day I visited Roberta at the nursing home was one I will never forget. Had it not been for her name on the door and her glorious mane of white hair, I would not have recognized my longtime friend; the virus left her body terribly swollen, facial features almost fused together. I sat by her bedside, held her hand and sang a song I had sung many times before. And as I sang to my friend, I saw her eyelid barely flutter and her finger quiver ever so slightly and no one will ever convince me that she was unaware of my presence. Four months later, during Christmas week, Roberta died. It was the perfect time for her to take her leave.
The song I sang to my friend that day in the nursing home was “What A Wonderful World”.
According to Wikipedia, “What A Wonderful World” was written by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss. It was first recorded by Louis Armstrong and released as a single in 1967. In April 1968, it topped the pop chart in the UK but performed poorly in the United States because the president of ABC Records disliked the song’s arrangement and refused to promote it. (There’s more on Wiki about that and it’s pretty interesting.) After the song was heard in the 1987 film Good Morning, Vietnam, it was reissued as a single in 1988 and rose to #32 on the Billboard Hot 100. Louis Armstrong’s recording was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999.
Every time I hear this song, I remember Roberta and our last visit together. This is “What A Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong.
LYRICS
I see trees of green
Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed day
The dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces
Of people going by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying
I love you
I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more
Than I’ll ever know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Ooh, yes
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: George David Weiss/Robert Thiele
What a Wonderful World lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Concord Music Publishing LLC, Kanjian Music, Tratore
Big thanks to Jim Adams for hosting another great Song Lyric Sunday this week. Be sure to follow the link and check out Jim’s site.
Thanks for stopping by. See you on the flip side. 😎
NAR©2024
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Day 10 or It’s A Process
Ten days out from spinal fusion surgery and my lower back still hurts like a bitch on wheels. This is a much more difficult surgery/recovery than I expected; bearing in mind what’s involved …. what has been cut through, ground down, fused together with various types of hardware, and stapled, sutured and bandaged closed …. I should have realized it would not be easy. And my doctor sent me home with Tylenol …. not even extra strength but regular Tylenol. Really?
Getting around the house with a walker, dressing myself and doing basic toilette is not problematic; beyond basic, it’s damn near impossible. What’s not allowed: stomach sleeping, bending or twisting at the waist, lifting anything heavier than 5 pounds. And, apparently, pain medication.
These days, I just about live in my electric recliner, getting up every hour or so to walk around, followed by icing my back. I tried eating my meals in the kitchen with Bill; it’s good to have a change of scenery and some normal time with him. The chairs, however, are not comfortable just yet so we eat together in the living room where there’s an over-large electric recliner with my name on it.
Making myself comfortable in a recliner is easier than in bed but still more difficult than I would have thought; the vertical 6″ incision is centrally located on the small of my back so I’m aware of every movement. There’s always something that hurts, that’s too big or too small, too hard or too soft, flattened out or all scrunched up, or just out of reach. Finding the perfect cushion has been a crusade; thankfully, Bill holds on to everything! Fortunately, once I fall asleep, I’m out for most of the night. Getting out of the recliner in the morning is slow-going as I’m stiffened-up from sleeping all night. It’s a process.
As far as my blogging goes, I’ll write when the mood strikes. I miss you and our camaraderie but my energy and strength are down. It took me two days just to write this! I apologize for not reading or commenting on your posts and I’m sure I’m not going to …. at least not for a while. I’m just not up to it.
Well, that’s the story, kids; taking life one day at a time.
Be good to yourselves. See you on the flip side. 😎
NAR©2024
PS – As much as I’d love to hear from you, please try not to compare your own situation to mine or tell me about your dear Aunt Betty who was never the same after her surgery. I know you mean well but we’re all different and heal differently; downer stories don’t help. It’s human nature but a “get well soon!” would be far better and greatly appreciated. Thanks!
Here’s “It Don’t Come Easy” by Ringo Starr.
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 