Treat and Trick?

Simmy was awake at 3:00 a.m. to see off one worker, then at 5:00 a.m. to see off another... then the cat wanted out... He yowled for about an hour, off and on, before she picked up the spoiled cat and deposited him in the gazebo.
"I may as well make the harvest loaf now. I'm wide awake," she grumbled.
The fresh cooked pumpkin had been cooling in the fridge and looked very delectable indeed. They say if food has a good rich colour, it is also full of nutrients... well, this pumpkin passes the test.
Feeling energetic, Simmy went to put in a load of laundry. All seemed well until a strange racket emanated from the laundry room. Simmy went to re-situate the load but, alas, it was more than just a little re- fluffing that was required. The hose that Sam had clamped the day before was no longer sealed and water was pouring out the bottom of the washer.
Simmy directed the water to the sewer hole until the load was done.
The scent of fully baked harvest loaf was wafting down the stairs so she went up the stairs to rescue it.

After hanging the laundry on the line as the sun was coming up, Simmy let the spoiled cat in the house and then sank into a chair feeling a bit worn out.
... and it's not even 8:30 a.m. she grumbled... well, I've had a trick, unpleasant as it was to deal with a broken washer, so I may as well enjoy the treat... she cut a slice of harvest loaf for breakfast.

Kempt Man

The fog was thick as pea soup. Every writer waits for the day when they can write that and have the experience to see how thick that actually is. The morning sky was obliterated by the fog. The Isaiah song 'On the wings of an eagle we will rise' was being painted in the sky. Yes, yes, these are seagulls but try substituting seagulls for eagle and the song will just lose a little something. Nobility perhaps?
He made such a perfect picture, walking in the fog, looking lonely and yet,

... in this day when few people don a suit for the day, he also looked kempt. Now that is an old- fashioned word and not often used these days as it was immediately underlined in red by this new fashioned computer program. But kempt he was, his hair was slicked sleekly to one side and one could imagine him combing it down in the morning before he went out for whatever early morning errand was so pressing. He had that outwardly wasting away appearance that was marked by the bagginess of the suit that hung onto his body in a betrayal of what once would have been filled out with muscle and youthful sinew. His craggy face looked like it had been seamed together from the ruins of Corinth. The gnarled hands gripping the cane were arthritic. But... it was the cigarette clenched between thin lips that ably maneuvered the habit suggesting it had been formed at a young age. This existential therapy stood out as a bit of rebellion against the inevitability of all things one could not control.
Maybe, just maybe,... this man's search for meaning would have Frankl himself offer him a cigarette.       

Lime Green Autumn Leaves

... drifted across the road and Simmy stopped for a photo. A yellow lime leaf tail spun its way down on the windshield and wedged down between the wiper blade and the window. It was just sitting pretty reminding Simmy that God is the master colour maker.

Novel Approaching

Novel- nearing completion
Year- 1944
Judith scratched her head under the hat, knowing she would have to cut her hair short if she was to continue the charade of being a Herr instead of a Frau. It was a dangerous time to be a woman. It was reported that even Coco Chanel had taken a Nazi lover.
Judith understood the dilemma of every woman who was without a husband in this time. Better maybe to take one lover, controversial as it might seem to others than to risk being raped over and over by soldiers who were under the command of questionable leaders.
The smell of perfume filled her nostrils as she typed her story on her trusty Remington Portable. The Model 5, although sold as whisper silent still seemed loud in this tiny claustrophobic room. She always kept an ear attuned to the little bell attached to the front door of the shop so she could stop typing the moment someone entered.

Wreathed in Smiles

Purple, white, silver and lilac is a colour combination that is best enjoyed up close and personal. 
Designing is a never ending array of possibilities. Choosing colours and textures and then, when supplies have been totally decided upon, one gets to see where the newly made decoration would look best. Inside, on a white door, outside, on a black door,

... or back inside on a black and putty coloured striped wall.

There are so many choices that every home can have a very individual look, no matter your budget.
I hope this house warming gift will make the recipients sparkle with delight and leave them wreathed in smiles.
"I have to send Mission Without Borders some money for a Christmas gift today," Simmy said to Sam. "I want to make sure that our young sponsor child is also wreathed in smiles at Christmas. Let's share the love."

Linen Rag Fibers

Simmy and Youthful pulled up to their third dime store stop of the day. An older gentleman, wearing a long tweed coat, was just entering the store and Simmy sensed a recognition.
Hopping out of the vehicle, Simmy purchased a parking ticket, tossed it on the dashboard and the two women went into the store to see what treasure they would find.
Simmy headed straight for the linen tea towels to see if there were a few new treasures to be found. In a out of the mist appearance, the tweed coated man stepped in front of her and said, 'Hello!'
Simmy didn't try to side- step, sensing no danger in him, and said, 'Hello,' as well.
He was not very tall but he had warm brown eyes in an olive tanned face with just the right amount of wrinkles around his eyes to suggest he enjoyed laughter.
'Jewish and educated,' thought Simmy.
He added the pleasantry of 'How are you?' and Simmy answered with similar pleasantry of 'Fine.'
He then exited the store and Simmy poked around the tea towels to see if there were some without holes. As she unfolded and refolded, a twenty dollar bill dropped out of a towel, also folded and refolded.
She picked it up and something inside of her sensed that the tweed coated man had planted it there. Just to be sure though, she kept her ears open in case anyone in the store would say they had lost it... no one did.
Sam and oldest son needed haircuts. Sam told Simmy "You have to come too. We don't meet her needs. You are the one she always wants to talk to."
Simmy sat down in the hairdressers' chair and just delved right into the elephant in the room topic.
"How is your brother?"
"Not good," Spirited replied, not sounding her usual spunky self.
"How long were you in the Philippines?" Simmy asked.
"A month... I stayed at the hospital, with my brother, almost the whole time. When I went to my sisters' place to take a shower, he asked for me even in that time-frame. I cashed in an RRSP and used all the money I had to get him some medical treatment, 407,000 pesos."
"What is his prognosis?"
"Not good. They are just making him comfortable at home. He cannot eat, the cancer is in his stomach."
Simmy offered words of hope to Spirited and told her she was not responsible for a dictatorship style country that didn't offer Medicare for everyone as equals.
As Simmy paid for their haircuts, she looked for the folded $20 bill she had found in the linen tea towel and placed it on the counter as well.
"It's not much but put this toward what you've done for your brother," Simmy said as she reached over to hug Spirited.
As they made their way back to their vehicle, Simmy jabbered about the man in the long tweed coat and said, "I got the feeling, he planted the money in the towel. Maybe it was a test for him to get his PhD. I figure he got some instructions and then had to see what would happen with it."
"How would he ever know?" Sam asked, a bit jaded.
"How do we ever know?" Simmy replied.

Modern Measurement Technique

The previous evening, Sam had cleaned out the greenhouse section of the shed to ready it for the Christmas Sale.

Simmy went for a bike ride, to exercise and to buy the cat some food.
When she got back, she admired the clean shelves and asked, "Do you want to have dinner in here?"
"Do you want to?" Sam asked.
"Oh yes! That would be fun! Which soup do you want ... chicken noodle or minestrone?"
"You mean vegetable?" Sam asked, taunting her a little.
Two days ago, Simmy had told Sam, "Mark the soup that you're putting aside for the old folks Vegetable instead of Minestone.
"Why?" Sam had asked.
"Because my Mom eats Vegetable soup but I'm not sure she eats Minestrone."
Sam had laughed as he had held the ladle above the soup pot, "It's the same soup! Isn't that being a bit sneaky?"
"I'm not cooking something she may turn her nose up at. Cooking is hard work. I don't want it to go to waste and I think she likes vegetable soup."
Sam had peeled the little note that said Minestrone off the top of the container and replaced it with the right moniker, Vegetable Soup.
"Isn't this a bit weak?" He mocked Simmy.
"Weak measurement may prove crucial in studying all sorts of new phenomenon. You know how she doesn't like change. You watch what Mom has to say when we bring her the soup."
"When we were shopping for new dish cloths she said she wanted the modern ones," Sam parlayed.
"Yes! She loves to think of herself as modern so I'm using this little modern technique knowing how absolutely traditional she really is."
"I still say it's sneaky!" Sam ribbed.
"Well, you weren't the one who helped her pick out the very same dish cloths twice."
"What do you mean?"
"Two months ago we went to find dish cloths and I asked if she wanted the modern ones or the old fashioned ones... modern being micro fibre and old fashioned being cotton. 'Oh, I want the modern ones. I like modern, she says.'"
"And?" Sam asked.
"This month, we were back at the same store buying the same dish cloths because she said she didn't like the ones she bought last time."
"Oh, oh! Are we going to have to go next month again?"

"I don't know but I know I'm willing to use more modern technique if we do," Simmy muttered.
"Cookie?"

Hidden Variable Theory

Albert Einstein, the most famous proponent of hidden variables, has been quoted as saying, "God does not care about our mathematical difficulties. He integrates empirically."
It is interesting to follow the world of science and see the unfolding of it and the responses to new information from the old 'tried and true' order to the new 'proved a clue' order.
Simmy phoned Deborah for a chat, basically avoiding writing for half an hour. Deborah had gone back to her tried and true work of childcare and Simmy had gone back to her tried and true work of designing and creating home decor to encourage people to make a house a home.
The doorbell rang half an hour after Simmy and Deborah hung up the phone and  Simmy spotted a very sweet baby kicking his legs in his stroller. Simmy dashed around the side of the house to find Deborah holding a lovely lilac colored box and inside was this pretty dotted teapot and creamer and sugar.
Little Jacob lifted his hand, grinned and waved at Simmy. It was just so gosh darned cute!
Simmy knew right away that the teapot gift was a little hint to start having those tea parties again. She laid out the woven lilac, raspberry and dark purple mohair blanket and placed the tea set on top.
So, in connecting the dots of this pilot wave theory gift, we could say that each of the particles follows a deterministic (but probably chaotic) trajectory which was guided by the wave function of Jacob?

So, hats off to Steinberg and his group at the University of Toronto who says, "It is not necessary to interpret the uncertainty principle as rigidly as we are often taught to do," arguing that other interpretations of quantum mechanics, such as pilot- wave theory, might "help us to think in new ways." (Quote taken from naturenews-
http://www.nature.com/news/2011/110602/full/news.2011.344.html)

Bridge Building

"I'll bet you'd enjoy going to the Da Vinci exhibit!" Beautiful J said to Simmy. "Oh yes, I definitely would enjoy that," responded Simmy. As J paid for their tickets, gifting Simmy with a day of experience,... it was like walking through her history of interior design course all over again.
Da Vinci borrowed from Vitruvius and this drawing lives on in iconic stature.
Vitruvius, a Roman architect, dedicated his treatise to Caesar Augustus. Remember him? The principles laid out in De Architectura, bring the arts and sciences together in a lovely hand holding relationship.
When Simmy and Youthful got to the bridge building part of the exhibit, they hunkered down on the floor and started to put together a small model of the self- supporting arch bridge.
Tip to you- It needs a few hands to support it until it is all put together... very much fun!
In design, students are required to think of the inspiration for projects... the alpha idea for the omega project, if you will.
The self supporting arch bridge idea was an easy one to imagine.
Born in a time of incessant warfare, I envision Da Vinci, the artist, kneeling by his bed beseeching God to give him an idea to present to the Duke of Milan in his letter to apply for an engineering position.
With fingers interlaced, thumbs and pinkies folding under from a cramped painting brush hold, Da Vinci opens his eyes and sees an interlocking arched bridge.
"Yes, that's how I imagine he came up with that bridge idea," Simmy nodded with satisfaction.

Another Language

It was a sad and gloomy visit at the old folks' home. Dry leaves fell off the trees and the wind blew them into piles on the lawn outside the big windows of the Harmony Fireplace Room.
Sam placed the Thanksgiving meal before his mother. She took a tiny bite, then removed the food from her mouth and pushed it into a napkin. Then she poked at the food for a bit before pushing the tray way from her, virtually untouched. It sat there on the table looking as dejected as Sams' mother.
Slowly, the rheumy eyes focused on Simmy and a story, held in an emotional vault for 55 years came out in a very sad telling. The story started with Mama Good & Honorable telling of how her wedding rings became, to her, a sad depiction of what the next 55 years of marriage would be for her.
She kept repeating, "We didn't get God's blessing! Some people don't believe in that but I knew that what happened to my wedding rings meant that we didn't get God's blessing."
She started crying. Simmy told Sam to go and comfort his mother but Sam stayed glued to his seat, staring at his mother. Now Sam was also battling a cold and flu virus so...
Simmy got up and pulled a chair close to Mama Good & Honorable and leaned her head on the old thin shoulder. The white gray head dropped onto Simmy's head and the crying became more serious now.
"I've never told anyone this story," she said. "Don't say nothing about it. I don't want Papa to get mad."
Now, Mama Good & Honorable has such bad hearing problems that it is getting difficult to communicate with her. She is also developing cataracts which is making reading difficult.
Simmy just sat in the ashes of the story told by Mama Good & Honorable and cried with her.
A soft conversation was taking place between an old couple in the same room and Simmy looked over to see the husband softly touching his wife's face and saying, "You're my sweetheart! I love you too."
Then the wife, with blue veined hands, fingernails painted in a lovely fashion said to the husband, "I'm so proud to be your wife!"
"I'm proud to be your husband too," was the reply from the care- giver spouse.
It was a strange thing to listen to a sad story in one ear and hear the opposite one, a loving musical, playing in the other ear.
As they wheeled Mama Good & Honorable up to her room she was murmuring, "I only see bad things now."
It was a difficult visit but in one very strange and odd way, Sam and Simmy left that old folks' home feeling thankful for ordinary things like...
the loving relationships with their children...
the true caring that was starting to develop in all of them...
the simple ability to offer a sympathetic ear...
the understanding of the importance of gentleness and sharing...
The song kept replaying and replaying in her mind... "It's the wedding of the painted doll..."

'It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.'
Laura Ingalls Wilder

Ungrateful or What?

The complaining started first thing in the morning. Simmy tried to meet the immediate needs, immediately. It seemed all was fine for a little while. She read the emails about the problems of looking after aging parents. Sigh!
She sewed two pillowcases that she had been meaning to make for about a month now.
She washed the laundry, two loads, and hung it all on the line to dry. She hung out the duvet hoping all the flu and cold germs would blow out of it. Sam had been sneezing and flu- like all week.
Then she went to the grocery store, lucky enough to get a fresh turkey. Then it was off to buy coffee beans and bread and peanut butter.
When she came home, she rescued the laundry off the line, and sat down on the front step, somewhat exhausted. The complaining and whining started again, only this time it just got louder and louder.
"What? What do you want? I don't even know what to do for you anymore."
The yelling continued.
Finally, she sat down and gave the lecture that he had coming all morning... "You are going to find something to be thankful for this weekend. I mean it! You have a great life and you haven't earned a bit of it. Now, find something... and I do mean something to be grateful for. Got it?"
She plunked him down on a soft duvet and walked away!
Within a few minutes everything was finally peaceful and Simmy felt she could get back to writing.

Simmy went to take a picture of the culprit in question. When she got near the grump, he poked his head up, whined and then tucked his head down in a deliberate I'm ignoring you position.
"Humph! You're too spoiled by far!" Simmy said.
"Ungrateful being!"

Viva Vision Prop

Novel- 
Jayne had watched the film set Crew work their magic with old reclaimed furniture, reviving it to film star status.
A boudoir chair made by LOR-BER MANUFACTURE INC. located at 1975 rue Falardeau Street in Montreal, Quebec was picked up at an antique market and given a new lease on life with a black and white dotted fabric.
Jayne sat down on the chair, novel in hand, and read Chapter 44.
"The Seaforth Highlanders of Canada filled the dance floor. Snippets of conversation were filmed to bring about the mood of love driven youth looking for a moment of meaning before they would embark for the United Kingdom on December 22, 1939.
It would be said, in later years, that the Regiment's baptism of fire came three and a half years later, on July 10, 1943."
Jayne sat very still on this seat, just off to the side in the Crystal Ballroom, a hot fire burning in her belly as she experienced the metaphysical equivalent of what that Regiment experienced on the shores of Sicily.

Crystal Ballroom Cotillion

Scene 57- Royal visit 1939
The hotel staff were setting the tables for J.P.'s Cotillion. Grimwades Royal Winton creamers and sugars mysteriously appeared for the Royal visit. The Golden Age of fine dishes paraded out of cabinets as only the best was placed out for the Royal visit.

Crystal pitchers for water, candelabras, velvet drapery... no expense was spared.