Category Archives: 2. Saturday Centus

Have a meal. Need a change of diaper. Crying for attention. Being happy at times. Taking a short nap to soothe my nerves if I can. Cuddles and hugs and kisses for baby when others come to visit.

The house is so often busy when a new baby is around. Everyone wants to see and hold.

Okay, I get it. I understand this is one of those things that happen when a family expands by one but, really, when will I get some time of my own?

“Without you around, I sleep like a baby!” I scream out.

Voices, “Why is she crying?”

“Who knows,” my daddy says.

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The darkened room was quiet bar the ticking of a clock. A worker sat at a desk looking up occasionally to see if all was well. Such was the time of night.

Without warning, a loud noise was heard from where unknown. The silence was broken, first one then another joining. The unthinkable happening, a chain reaction had begun.

She rapidly pressed a button three times, a call for help, “I’ve officially reached critical mass.”

Help came running, people knowing their role. In time only the ticking clock was again heard.

It only takes one crying baby to set off a hospital nursery chain reaction.

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The world can be confusing for a five year old, especially homophones, “Why did the man have forfeit? Is miscellany the new teacher?”

Adults can say strange things at times.

She was listening to her mum and grandpa talking when mum asked, “Did the doctor say he would find all of the stones?”

Grandpa smiled, “He said he would leave no kidney stone unturned to make me well.”

After some time, mum went looking for her daughter and found her turning all of the stones in the driveway, “What are you doing?”

“I’m turning all of the stones over to help grandpa get well quicker.”

Schools and students have permission to use this graphic for non-commercial, educational purposes.

Punxsutawney Phil emerged and, seeing his shadow, returned to his hole.

“Six more weeks of winter,” the humans said.

Back in the comfort of his hole, he sat as his computer, “Life’s so much easier now I can get long range weather forecasts online.”

Phil’s son looked on, “What now you’re retired, dad?”

“It’s your turn. Your mom and I have been given a quiet retirement hole. You’re Phil now.”

Old Phil and Phyllis settled into their retirement hole assured New Phil would carry on the tradition.

Old Santa, their neighbour, was reassuring, “Even the President can’t hold office forever.”

This picture is from the Saturday Centus blog.

We care for them, nurture them and share their joys and sorrows as they grow. We revel in their successes and teach them the ways of the world but, in time, they must make their own choices.

They are our stars, our attempt at immortality, our children but there is the dark side of the stars. They feel immortal and fate sometimes proves them wrong.

“Your mum and I will always love you.”

Gently we hold his hands. I give a nod. The regular beep slows then stops. A constant tone is heard.

This gentle star will no longer shine and our stars are now dimmed.

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“Look, Poppa! Some tomatoes are red,” surprised Alex called.

Poppa smiled, “They’re ready to pick.”

“Can we pick the green ones?”

“They aren’t ripe yet,” Poppa explained. “We have to wait for them to change colour.”

Alex pondered, “We eat green and red apples. Aren’t the green ones ripe?”

Poppa’s smile widened, “Not all things change colours the same way.”

“Will I change colour when I’m older?”

Poppa was amused, “Like your Poppa, your hair may one day grow grey.”

“Are you ripe?”

Poppa laughed, “I’ve been on the vine a long time.”

“No one picked you?”

“Your Grandma did.”

This is the photo prompt from the Centus site.

My mother turned 80 today, an achievement in itself not achieved by all. The comment had me wondering of life for this woman once young.

From the family album, I chose a photo of a girl just ten.

What hopes and dreams were behind the face, what joys and sorrows of future times? Growing to womanhood, boyfriends, a proposal, marriage, children, grandchildren… Were her dreams met?

Her husband lost so young. Her children grown, her parents lost and siblings gone but two. Her walk once spritely now with cane, I asked her of her life.

“Alright,” she said in typical understatement, “but not always happy.”

This photo is not to be used without direct written permission from me.

My teacher was talking about global problems. My mind’s imagination took flight.

I was Atlas, not of Greek mythology but of a new order. No longer carried on my back where much goes unseen, I hold the world in one hand. I see problems pollution has brought, the sadness of war and those lost to anger. I see hunger when others have plenty.

I raised my hand to speak, “We all live on one world. We’re in one family, human.”

“And…?” teacher prompted.

“Families need to work together when there are problems. We only need to care enough to try.”

This is the prompt photo from the Saturday Centus site.

Sophie looked puzzled, “Daddy, what’s a New Year Revolution?”

Smiling, “Resolution… It’s a promise people make to themselves each New Year but don’t always keep.”

“They lie to themselves?”

“No, not really, Sophie. They often mean what they say but it doesn’t always work out.”

“You want a resolution, daddy?”

“I’ve made one every year for the last four years and will make one again this year.”

“Did you keep your resolutions?”

“Always.”

Sophie was curious, “What promises did you make?”

“It’s the same promise each year. I promise to love you more than anything in the world.”

Sophie smiled, “That’s my resolution too.”

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What a wonderful world. Its tilted axis to the planetary plane gives us  the seasons, opposite for north and south, as we orbit our sun.

How strangely we cling to traditions.

It’s Christmas in Australia, summer, hot and time for the beach yet many Christmas cards show snow-covered scenes. There are also the decorated homes with coloured lights, Santa, reindeer and a sleigh atop snow, artificial in our summer’s heat. White snow. Bright snow.

I pause and think of an Aussie Christmas, Santa decked in board shorts, wearing sandals  and sunglasses, cool for the summer.

It’s white heat, bright heat, an Australian summer Christmas.

Schools and students have permission to use this graphic for non-commercial, educational purposes.