Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives #New Bloggers on the Scene – Dreamcatcher (On loss/divorce) by Linda Thompson


This series of Posts from Your Archives is exclusively for blogs that are under a year old. It is an opportunity to meet new readers and to show off your writing skills.. All the details are in this post along with some tips on how to make your blog more reader friendly.

https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/08/28/new-series-smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-new-blogger-promotionand-setting-up-your-blog-for-accessibility-readability-and-sharing/

Delighted to showcase another new blogger on the scene… meet Linda Thompson who blogs about Life lessons. Through anecdotes, memories or stories (some funny, others serious), several posts are about lessons learned because of something that happened in her life.

In her final post Linda shares the sadness of loss. In this case when a relationship dies and we have to leave elements of our previous life behind. Thankfully most of us find another safe haven.

Dreamcatcher

As I made one last round of the empty rooms in the house, I felt like someone else. Someone who’d never lived here. Someone who hadn’t watched her marriage crumble here. Someone who had never seen this house as her dream-filled future.

We’d been so excited when the real estate agent first showed us the house 18 months earlier. As we climbed the staircase to the second floor, my husband had turned to me and mouthed “What more could we ask for?” Grinning from ear-to-ear, I’d mouthed back “Nothing!” We were trying to hide our excitement about the house from the agent, but I’m sure our efforts were futile. We’d known this was house was ours from the moment we’d driven up and seen its white, stucco walls, green-trimmed windows and big, beautiful front porch.

I had imagined us sitting on that wooden porch in the distant future, contentedly reflecting on our children, grandchildren and the full lives we lived. I’d pictured holidays filled with family gathered around the dining room table. I had imagined the back yard echoing with the shouts of kids playing soccer in summer and hockey in winter. The house had been so much more than a composition of walls, ceilings and floors. It had been a dream catcher filled with dreams for a happy future with my husband, our three-year old son and the children still to come.

Yet there I was 18 months later, slowly walking through the empty house alone for the last time before it passed into the hands of new owners. I still thought it was beautiful. I still loved the way the sun turned its hardwood floors into what looked like shimmering gold ice. I especially still loved the porch. But I wasn’t the same person I’d been 18 months ago. Now I could see this house for what it was: a good, solid, lovely house but not a structure that could make dreams come true.

I did feel a small sense of loss for the people I was leaving behind. That naïve young couple we’d been had somehow believed that a house was all it took to make a home. Who could really blame them? Everyone wants to believe that perfect families exist in perfect homes. After all, we’d watched the Keatons and the Huxtables work out any problems they had within the walls of their neat houses in half-hour episodes. Even the Bunkers and Conners, television families with visible cracks in their foundations, managed to make their house a home. How could we have let things fall apart in 18 months while living in the house of our dreams?

But in the end, I knew it was best to leave that impressionable couple behind. We’d grown up and grown apart and along the way we’d learned that home, as they say, is where the heart is. And now our hearts lay in different places. My husband had opted for a duplex in the city. My heart belonged to a small, red-brick, doll-like house in the suburbs that my son, Erik, and I would soon call home.

That was more than 20 years ago and my son is now a grown man looking for a home of his own. Over the years, we lived in a few different houses – none of them perfect. My son is looking for different things in his house hunting. He’s looking for a good deal and a real estate investment that will pay off in the future. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but I can’t help hoping that he also finds a soft place to land and a safe haven at the end of each day.

©Linda Thompson 2019

About Linda

Writer, fundraiser, mother, wife, owner of one stubborn Canadian mare and one orange tabby and bona fide introvert who finds it easier to express herself in ink than out loud. For extroverts and Type A personalities, expressing themselves is a natural part of their charm and we mostly love them for it. It’s hard to know what goes on in the head of an introvert or how he/she perceives the world. Follow me to see the world through the eyes of this introvert and share your thoughts with me. Extroverts welcome too!

Connect to Linda

Blog: https://lindathompsonsite.wordpress.co
Twitter: https://twitter.com/inkplume

My thanks to Linda for allowing me to share her posts and I hope that you will head over to her blog to follow and enjoy her archives.. thanks Sally.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #New Bloggers on the Scene -The Case of the Missing Sock (Humour on the craft of writing) by Linda Thompson


This series of Posts from Your Archives is exclusively for blogs that are under a year old. It is an opportunity to meet new readers and to show off your writing skills.. All the details are in this post along with some tips on how to make your blog more reader friendly.

https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/08/28/new-series-smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-new-blogger-promotionand-setting-up-your-blog-for-accessibility-readability-and-sharing/

Delighted to showcase another new blogger on the scene… meet Linda Thompson who blogs about Life lessons. Through anecdotes, memories or stories (some funny, others serious), several posts are about lessons learned because of something that happened in her life.

In Linda’s third post, she explores the phenomenon that is the mystery of the missing sock.. it is rampant in our household too and I suspect from all the mentions online that it is now an epidemic…

The Case of the Missing Sock

Every aspiring writer has heard the phrase “Write what you know.” That’s all well and fine but I often feel like I don’t “know” anything that’s interesting enough to share in writing. Then I realized that some of the most entertaining pieces I’ve read were about everyday things that we can all relate to. Take my routine this morning as I was getting ready for work.

At 7:30 am I was feeling quite proud of myself. One of my resolutions this year is to get things organized the night before a workday so I am not chasing my tail. Today, my lunch was made and waiting for me in the fridge, my clothes had been ironed the night before and I was having a perfectly pleasant morning. All I had left to do was brush my teeth, put on my socks and shoes and I was good to go. And then it happened. I could only find one of the socks that went with the outfit I planned to wear.

Socks go into the washing machine in perfect pairs, like the animals on Noah’s Ark. But how often does only one come out? I’d be willing to bet it’s happened to all of us, which means it happens a lot. Where does the other one go? And what are we supposed to do with one sock?

Always an optimist, I save them in a “sock” drawer, hoping the partners will find their way home. The drawer is like a global village of socks living together in perfect harmony. Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder would be so proud. There is a black one with bold pink stripes; a light gray one; many different styles of white sport socks; a plain black one and even a Christmas sock. We humans could learn a thing or two about tolerance and acceptance from our sock drawers.

Some socks are happily reunited with their partners when they show up in the next load of clean laundry. There’s a certain satisfaction in delving into the sock drawer, plucking out a sock whose partner has turned up, folding them together and putting them in the drawer of matched socks, happily shared with underwear. Others turn up weeks later in my husband’s or children’s drawers. (Now why do they hang onto one sock they know isn’t theirs?) Others, sadly, never make it back.

But none of that was any help to me this morning. After a quick, frantic search through all my drawers, I waved the white flag. I quickly pulled on two different socks and replaced the shoes I had planned to wear with knee-high boots.

So there are two morals to this story: 1) Write what you know. The advice is sound and what you know could resonate with others, even if it seems trivial; 2) Don’t underestimate the power of a missing sock to mess up your morning.

©Linda Thompson 2019

About Linda

Writer, fundraiser, mother, wife, owner of one stubborn Canadian mare and one orange tabby and bona fide introvert who finds it easier to express herself in ink than out loud. For extroverts and Type A personalities, expressing themselves is a natural part of their charm and we mostly love them for it. It’s hard to know what goes on in the head of an introvert or how he/she perceives the world. Follow me to see the world through the eyes of this introvert and share your thoughts with me. Extroverts welcome too!

Connect to Linda

Blog: https://lindathompsonsite.wordpress.co
Twitter: https://twitter.com/inkplume

My thanks to Linda for allowing me to share her posts and I hope that you will head over to her blog to follow and enjoy her archives.. thanks Sally.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #New Bloggers on the Scene – Thank you, Donna C., Wherever You Are (Humour on body image/adolescence) by Linda Thompson


This series of Posts from Your Archives is exclusively for blogs that are under a year old. It is an opportunity to meet new readers and to show off your writing skills.. All the details are in this post along with some tips on how to make your blog more reader friendly.

https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/08/28/new-series-smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-new-blogger-promotionand-setting-up-your-blog-for-accessibility-readability-and-sharing/

Delighted to showcase another new blogger on the scene… meet Linda Thompson who blogs about Life lessons. Through anecdotes, memories or stories (some funny, others serious), several posts are about lessons learned because of something that happened in her life.

In her second post, Linda shares her encounter with Donna C… who matured faster than her fellow schoolmates and had two elder sisters to give her a head start. I did too and can remember helping myself to their wardrobe rather than mine!  Linda also has some wisdom to share on body image..

Thank you, Donna C., Wherever You Are (Humour on body image/adolescence)

Hippy girl clip art

There’s one in almost every woman’s memory. You know who I mean. The girl who came back to school after summer vacation one year with curves and hips while you were still in that awkward stage. For me, it was Donna C. I sometimes wonder about her. Is she still pretty? Is she a good person? I have no idea, but it once felt like she’d been put on my path for the sole purpose of making me feel inadequate.

In grade school Donna and I were in the same circle of friends and everything was fine – until seventh grade. When we returned to school that September, I’d grown a few inches and gone from pudgy to beanpole. Donna, though, was almost unrecognizable.

Somehow that girl got herself a shapely derrière that she showed off in hip hugger jeans so tight that I wondered how she got into them. (This was before jeans had any stretch fabric in them.) She later explained the technique learned from her two older sisters. 1) Lie down with jeans still wet from washing; 2) Wiggle into them while lying on your back; 3) Suck stomach in; 4) Zip and wear.

Donna also suddenly had funky belts, ribbed turtleneck sweaters that showed off her new curves and neat jewellery – all courtesy of her sisters’ closets. I envied her those “cool” older sisters because when it came to clothes and music, they gave her an edge. I had two younger brothers and, really, what good are they?

But the worst insult of all was the swell in just the right place under those great new sweaters she wore. “Don’t worry,” my mother told me. “You’ll be glad you’re tall, slim and small-chested when you get older. Women put on weight as they age and girls like you carry it much better.” Really? When you’re 12, who cares? I wanted boobs and I wanted them now!

I’m pretty sure Donna’s sisters were single-handedly responsible for ruining Wendy K.’s 14th birthday party for the girls who were there. The party was in Wendy’s basement on a Saturday afternoon in January. Chips and pop were laid out, the lights were dim, and “Hey Jude” was in the line-up of tunes to be played. Because it was seven+ minutes long, every girl hoped the boy she liked would ask her to dance when it came on. There we were in our party dresses and feeling pretty good about ourselves until Donna made her entrance.

The doorbell rang and we heard Wendy’s parents greet the newcomer. A few minutes later, Donna came down the basement stairs and instantly became every boy’s fantasy. She wore a tight-fitting black mini-dress, nylons and heels. She had rouge on her cheekbones, a thin line of expertly applied black eyeliner around her eyes and shiny pink gloss on her lips. This had to be the work of her sisters!

I went from feeling exhilarated about the party and my pastel dress to being completely miserable. What was I thinking? I looked like a kid, for God’s sakes! A look at the other girls told me they felt the same way. A glance at the boys’ faces told me that no matter who asked me to dance to “Hey Jude”, I’d be second-choice.

The following year Donna changed schools and we lost touch. I didn’t harbor any hard feelings; it wasn’t her fault the way she looked made the rest of us feel less than worthy. On the contrary, I should thank her for starting me on the road to accepting something that most girls, even Donna, have to. There’s always someone slimmer, prettier, better-looking or with better clothes out there and so what? Beauty’s only skin deep and first impressions are fleeting. The lasting impressions are the ones that count.

Even now, as a “mature” woman, there are times when I walk into a room, see someone who looks dazzling and feel momentarily off-balance. But then it passes. For the most part, I’m grateful for the healthy body that’s gotten me through life so far and hopefully has a lot more good years left.

©Linda Thompson 2019

About Linda

Writer, fundraiser, mother, wife, owner of one stubborn Canadian mare and one orange tabby and bona fide introvert who finds it easier to express herself in ink than out loud. For extroverts and Type A personalities, expressing themselves is a natural part of their charm and we mostly love them for it. It’s hard to know what goes on in the head of an introvert or how he/she perceives the world. Follow me to see the world through the eyes of this introvert and share your thoughts with me. Extroverts welcome too!

Connect to Linda

Blog: https://lindathompsonsite.wordpress.co
Twitter: https://twitter.com/inkplume

My thanks to Linda for allowing me to share her posts and I hope that you will head over to her blog to follow and enjoy her archives.. thanks Sally.

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #New Bloggers on the Scene – A Place at the Table for All (Aging Parents) by Linda Thompson


This series of Posts from Your Archives is exclusively for blogs that are under a year old. It is an opportunity to meet new readers and to show off your writing skills.. All the details are in this post along with some tips on how to make your blog more reader friendly.

https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/08/28/new-series-smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-new-blogger-promotionand-setting-up-your-blog-for-accessibility-readability-and-sharing/

Delighted to showcase another new blogger on the scene… meet Linda Thompson who blogs about Life lessons. Through anecdotes, memories or stories (some funny, others serious), several posts are about lessons learned because of something that happened in her life. Linda has selected four of her posts to share with you in this series.

Linda’s first post is a wonderful, nostalgic look back through the years to special family dinners and how it is so important that our elderly parents are given the opportunity to still feel useful in our lives.

A Place at the Table for All

I stopped to watch from across the room as my 92-year-old mother carefully wiped down the silverware. She rubbed a knife gently with the soft cloth clutched in her arthritic fingers, then held it up to the light for inspection. Her shoulders are stooped, her fingers gnarled, and cataracts have formed like invisible spider webs in both eyes, but her expression was one of such intense contentment it almost hurt to see.

I had picked her up from her seniors’ residence for a family lunch at my home. I went to get her early because I know the pleasure she gets in the preparations of a family meal. Her life is slowly winding down, and with it her sense of purpose is dwindling badly. Though simple, the tasks I asked her to help with made her feel needed and useful.

For me, it brought back a memory of a Christmas at my grandparents’ home when I was a child. Dinner was over and my mother and her two sisters were washing and drying dishes. They, along with my grandmother, had worked hard preparing the meal: peeling, cutting and cooking carrots and potatoes, checking the turkey and setting the table. Close to 30 people including children, husbands and cousins – had sat down to the holiday dinner. Now, while everyone else relaxed in other parts of the house, the three sisters continued to work.

I had come back into the kitchen and could see them standing at the sink with their backs to me. High heels had been discarded and they stood in stocking feet. They had tied aprons around their waists to protect their holiday outfits from gravy splatter, carrot stains and other remnants of the meal. The number of special-occasion plates, glasses and silverware they handled was staggering. Yet they talked and giggled like school girls and the sound of their laughter was like tinkling glass – pure, clear and joyous.

Now, all these year later, I observed my mother without her knowledge again. She moved slowly, as if extending the task for as long as possible, carefully laying the silverware at each place setting. The family has shrunk – her husband and parents are gone, and she is the lone surviving sister. As she held the knife up to the light, I think she saw more than a spotless stainless steel blade. I think she saw their faces and the memories of other meals when they had a place at the table.

©Linda Thompson 2019

About Linda

Writer, fundraiser, mother, wife, owner of one stubborn Canadian mare and one orange tabby and bona fide introvert who finds it easier to express herself in ink than out loud. For extroverts and Type A personalities, expressing themselves is a natural part of their charm and we mostly love them for it. It’s hard to know what goes on in the head of an introvert or how he/she perceives the world. Follow me to see the world through the eyes of this introvert and share your thoughts with me. Extroverts welcome too!

Connect to Linda

Blog: https://lindathompsonsite.wordpress.co
Twitter: https://twitter.com/inkplume

My thanks to Linda for allowing me to share her posts and I hope that you will head over to her blog to follow and enjoy her archives.. thanks Sally.