bad hare day

Tags

chocolate, Easter, families, fun, holidays, humour, love, miscellaneous, random, singles

The Easter Bunny may be visiting people far and wide today but somehow that silly hare has yet again forgotten to put me on his list of happy chocolate receivers. So with no chocolate loot to go searching for I made myself a little basket of chocolatey goodies, but it really isn’t the same and got me thinking about all those lovely family holidays.

I am big fan of Christmas, love the whole season surrounding it. The lights transforming the world into a magical place, the hot drinks and cold noses, the joy of being able to splurge on others and be as tacky as you like with decorations in your home. Valentines day on the other hand is a strictly couple affair, only exciting when a surprise gorilla-o-gram interrupts your day with a red chocolate heart and a card stuffed with love and hopefully an invite for the night. Mothers day is when we spoil those who put plasters on our knees, made us pancakes and helped with our homework. Fathers day is when Daddy’s spoil themselves and go off drinking with the lads. St Patrick’s day is the greenest day of the year with families dipping their heads and hearts into national pride.  But Easter stands a little apart for me. Although it is the most important Church Holiday, it also seems to be mainly a family event.

For some reason while others are gorging themselves with chocolate eggs and hunting down the last shiny orbs in the garden I often end up with no plans. Today is no different, but I am sure I will come up with lots of lovely things to fill the day with.  Yet I have to admit that it does niggle at me slightly that there is no day in the year to celebrate the singles amongst us. Which seems odd as we are an increasingly growing number.

So as my mind is untainted by a cocoa high I had this thought: maybe we should just invent such a day. I am thinking one day in the summer would be nice. No work for those who live alone and the singles cat Jingle (each holiday needs its bearer of gifts and what better than an alley cat?)  would bring us all cards, chocolates, flowers and condoms. And everyone you have ever given a gift to on their showers, wedding days, engagement parties and other couply events have to remember you for a change and exchange the favour. After all didn’t someone once say the joy is in the giving?

But for now I will eat a marzipan egg and see what the city has to offer as the sun is hiding behind grey clouds and my beach plans seem a little too dull.  And maybe the chocolate filled bellies will keep most families at home and I will have the galleries to myself. Yes, sometimes being single is perfect!

flash fiction challenge: taxi time

Tags

flash fiction, fun, humour, misunderstanding, rain, taxi

It started to rain and I really couldn’t bare the thought of taking the bus home. I was running late as it was, getting all those special ingredients for the dinner I had planned had taken so much longer than intended. And now with the rain dripping down my collar and running down my back I’d definitely need a hot shower and a change of clothes before my guests arrived. As I struggled down the street, lugging all my bags and felling a little bit panicky I couldn’t believe my luck, amongst all the engaged taxis waiting at the traffic lights, one beacon blinked at me letting me know there was a seat free. Quickly before the lights could turn green again and my time-saver would vanish without me I opened up the car door and slipped into the back seat, dumping all my goods around me. A little bit out of breath and wiping the rain from my face I told the driver where to go and sank back into the seat.  As I felt my body relax the driver turned around and a confused looking face appeared before my eyes: “Sorry love this is a driving school car, not a taxi!”

Topic – A Misunderstanding ,Word count – 214, Mood – Hecticity, Genre – Comedy

lying in the bed I made

Tags

bed, blame, dancing, hug, humour, love, ramblings, random, single, thoughts

As I poured the milk into my tea this morning I really got annoyed, the milk had gone off over night and now my morning beverage was filled with unsightly chunks. But what upset me the most was that I was the only one to blame.

As a single living by myself (not by choice or design) I have to take all the blame for any unpaid bills, forgotten groceries, mess in the kitchen and even if that chocolate I was saving for times of need (we all have them) disappears before its time. Sadly, there is no one else to point the finger at and at times this can get a little bit tiring. Even worse, since no one is around to then make you that much needed cup of tea, pour a relaxing glass of wine or give you a well deserved hug, your tired-self has to even do that on its own.

But of course there are many benefits to living on your own as well. You don’t need to ask if you can have the last slice of cake, so even if you baked it you can eat it too! You can twirl to your hearts content if a twirl-worthy song jingles from the radio and dancing to ABBA, singing along at the top of your voice while cooking is not judged either. Well, unless a neighbour walks by and sees your silly single behaviour through the window.

As I folded the laundry and put clean sheets on my bed, I suddenly realised, that although I would love to snuggle up to that special someone, at least I can lie diagonally in bed if I like and I get to keep the entire double bedspread to myself.  What luxury, so I think I’ll make my own bed and lie in for now.

letting sleeping Germans lie

Tags

cuddle, embrace, family, hugs, humour, love, ramblings, thoughts, touch

Just a quick entry today as I have three sleeping Germans upstairs and I am not sure how long the peace will last. And a they say it’s best to to let them lie.

After a lovely day in sunny Dublin (a rare treat in itself) we all made it back to my tiny cottage safe and sound, carrying many, many bags filled with t-shirts and other garbs. Everyone was happy, if tired and I was on tea duty. Between boiling several pots of tea and enjoying the teenage fashion show in my own living-room I was able to up my normal cuddle quota.  I read somewhere (a good while ago) that to be a happy person you should enjoy at lest ten hugs every day. As a single bilingual living on my own I sadly often spend my days hug-less. And although I am not sure if an emotional-hug bank exists I try to get my cuddles when I can, hoping there is enough love stored up to hug me through those sometimes lonely times.

I love hugs, not the sideways-step and pat on the back kind, the one that heterosexual men do to signal they are not gay … each pat a word: pat I’m pat not pat gay. Nor do I enjoy the leaning-forward, only embracing the shoulders kind of hug, this kind of hug is normally topped off with air-kissing and high-pitched “lovely to see you” screeches. I love a full-on hug, an unselfconscious embrace in which both parties just jump in and hug  tightly, with abundance and joy. A hug that you just want to stay in, feel loved and safe in, a hug that helps you through those tricky moments in life or even just lets you really feel how the other feels about you.

Touch is such an important factor of human life and studies done into the field of trust and touch and how they are linked. If we are touched (not in the inappropriate way) our brain kick starts love-hormones called Oxytocin into action. These loveable hormones don’t only help us feel empathy and reduce anxiety but they also help us bond with others. And research has even shown that hugging can reduce physical pain, even if it is just you wrapping your arms around yourself in a me-embrace.

As I hear the pitter-patter and thud of large and small feet upstairs I am ready for my daily hug-doses, feeling loved is a great way to start the day.

Why we touch

The art of hugging

summer time and home invasions

Tags

Dublin, family, German, humour, kids, love, mess, summer-time, travel

The Germans are coming and that in full force. In three hours my sister plus her two kids will be landing in Dublin airport and my homes invasion will begin. For four days the four of us will share my tiny home and that does scare me a little, I am still not even sure how and where we will all sleep and I think I will have to devise some sort of shower schedule! I do have  a tiny guestroom that doubles as a study,  but all it fits is a build in bed and a plank of wood attached to the wall disguised as a desk, and for the next few days this is where I think I’ll hide when I need a moment to myself.

I love my sister and her kids and am looking forward to spending time with them but the whirlwind of things that seem to clutter up everything in their wake is a complete other matter. As my niece and nephew have grown up the mess that they make has expanded. My gorgeous niece is now a teen and lives a life filled with accessories, fashion and those twilight dudes. My lovely, cuddly nephew is, unlike Pinocchio, a real boy… smelly runners, stinky socks and electronic stuff hover around him, filling the air with that very special boy flavour. And I know my sister has a few shopping trips planned, as there is not much that can beat the prices of Penny’s, so if you add in all those additional items, chaos is sure to ensue.

But not being able to see the floor for a couple of days and being unable to sit without having to remove obstacles first, is a small price I (at times begrudgingly) am happy to pay to spend time with the people I love. And I am sure they will be carrying some liquorice and other German goodies to lull me into a happy mood. Now all I need to do is get over my summer-time-jetlag to be able to enjoy the experience in full.

PS: If you don’t hear from me by Friday please send in the troops to check if I’m still alive

duster dance

Tags

clean, dance, dust, fun, home, humour, mop, music

The sun is streaming in through my windows, catching in the prisms dangling there, making rainbows dance around my home.  Sadly, that is not the only thing the sun brings to light. Dust and dirt that have been hidden through cloudy skies stands out. It’s time again to do the duster dance.

I hate cleaning, it always seems such a futile chore, but I hate the way it tickles my nose, activating my dust allergy even more. The runny redness may bring out the blue in my eyes, but add in loud sneezing and itchy skin and you have a walking disaster area. So, like it or not my day will be spent doing the mop merengue, scrubber samba and toilet tango.

Trying to make the best out of a bad situation I own cleaning utensils that cheer me up. The long fluffy duster that dutifully hangs waiting behind the door is bright red with lovely little images of green pears and flowers, lovely red hearts and cherries with tiny yellow blobs thrown in for good measure. My mop bucket is related to the duster and it shows in the decorations on the front, I even own brightly coloured scrubbing cloths and sponges.

Armed against the dirt I put on music, something I can sing along to and my feet often decided to dance, making me twirl, slide or even skip around the house while catching cob-webs and banishing dirt.

Once I’m done with stripping the beds and putting on a or three load, I’ll be able to have a steaming hot cuppa while I’ll admire the gleaming floors, the sparkling surfaces and the lingering smell of cleanliness. Sadly I know that once I walk across those floors it will be the first steps towards the nest day of the duster dance.