Tag Archives: relationships

Blow My Candles Out! Carrot Ranch Fiction.

“Happy Birthday, Honey. I’ve checked all the ingredients. Even your cardiologist says it’s fine…gluten free, sugar free, fat free.” Sue tried hard to smile. “So, you can have your cake and eat it too.”

“So, what IS in it?” Richard growled, longing for Nigella’s Nutella Cake instead. As much as he loved his wife and family, he wasn’t sure it was worth coming back for this new life with all its restrictions. He couldn’t even breathe without asking for permission first.

“Carrot cake? I am NOT a horse! I’m off to the pub. You can blow my candles out!”


Every week, Charli over at Carrot Ranch hosts a flash fiction challenge where you write 99 words to a prompt.

March 16, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about carrot cake. It can be classic or unusual. Why is there cake? How does it feature in the story. Go where the prompt leads.

Respond by March 20, 2018, to be included in the compilation (published March 21). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!


Valentine’s Day Hopeful.

It’s not easy being a huge, oversized teddy bear in the minimalist era, especially once love has gone sour.

Once upon a time, Snowy was the personification of love. Basking in the early days of new love, he made her feel really special and sat pride of place on her bed. Of course, she, whoever she was, would’ve splashed  their photo across all social medium platforms: “Look at me! Look what my boyfriend gave me!!!!!”

Back in the day, you couldn’t get a bear big enough!

However, somewhere along the way, the tide turned and Snowy ended up at our local opportunity or charity shop. Worse than that, he was free. Free, yet they couldn’t even given him away. Through the last week,  I’ve seen Snowy sitting in there on his chair. Being a compassionate sort, had to feel sorry for him. Clearly, he was loved and special once upon a time and it had to be rough, even for a bear, to end up homeless and outcast… a dust trap, a space hog and his days as a love token are long gone.

“I used to believe in forever, but forever’s too good to be true”
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Anyway, today it’s Valentine’s Day and the volunteers at the Opportunity Shop clearly thought that this was Snowy’s very best chance of finding a new home, new love and live happily ever after. Or, at least until love fades all over again.

Snow Bear 2

I have to admit that seeing Snowy sitting out the front with a red rose on his chest and a tag very reminiscent of Paddington Bear saying “Free”, brought back memories of my own. Not that I recall ever being given a huge, snow bear by any of my ex-boyfriends. However, after my cousin broke up with her boyfriend, and a tribe of snow bears were packaged up and given to my then 2 year old son. His Snowy was about the same size as the one at the op shop and he loved climbing all over him. Indeed, Snowy was so loved, that the stuffing soon got knocked out of him and my son being a theatrical creative type, pulled the rest of the stuffing out and got inside and used Snowy as a bear suit. OMG! He was so cute & absolutely hilarious.

Snow Bear 4

Snowy positioned outside the op shop today hoping to get lucky on Valentine’s Day and find a new home.

So, there could be life after romantic death for our op shop Snowy and that’s why I didn’t bring him home. Having seen how the pups have chewed through one of their beds and pulled all the stuffing out with great delight, I thought he’d be better off with someone else.

I might pop back tomorrow and see whether Snowy found his Valentine.

Meanwhile, hubby gave me a bunch of roses this morning, a stash of gourmet chocolates and after my local bookseller recommended a few philosophical books about love, I gave him a book about Stretcher Bearers through the wars. I know it isn’t exactly a Valentine subject but his uncle was a stretcher bearer in New Guinea in WWII so it had personal resonance. Moreover, I should add that at least it wasn’t the book about Melbourne’s Pentridge Prison. That would’ve been a great Valentine’s Day. Thanks for the last 18 years, darling, but it feels like I’ve been living in prison”. Yes, not buying that book was a very good move.

So, how was your Valentine’s Day? What, if anything did you get up to? Or, is that private?

Before I head off, I should mention that my husband and I got engaged on Valentine’s Day 2001…17 years ago. Wow! That now feels like another life time ago. Actually, make that two.

xx Rowena

PS When I peered through the op shop window this morning, it seems Snowy had found a new home. His chair was now empty! Thought he might appreciate the Irish Blessing as he embarks on his new life:

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Not the Taj Mahal! Friday Fictioneers.

“Bill, you’ve stretched the boundaries of science with your bare hands. Teleporting a mouse to Australia is freaky smart, but teleporting us to the Taj Mahal? You’re mad!” Jessica fumed. “If you beam Scotty up, you’ve gotta bring Scotty down. I’m staying home.”

Yet, it was too late. Bill had already pressed the button.

Still wearing her pink fluffy slides, Jessica gingerly opened her eyes. Either the teleporter had a wild sense of humour, or no sense of direction. This decrepid hotel  was NOT the Taj Mahal, and Bill mumbled something about Guatamala.

That was Bill’s last experiment.


While ostensibly about the perils of teleporting, that scenario illustrates that age old tension in couples where one is more this, and the other is more than that. One is a risk taker, while the other’s a home body. How do we negotiate these differences? There lies the challenge and quite frankly, I think Bill’s in deep water.

xx Rowena

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. This week’s image from JS Brand captures I’d encourage you to read some of the other contributions and see just how many different takes can emerge from the same photo.

Word Count 98 words.


Our Son and the Rescue Pup.

This afternoon, I was tapping away on my laptop, when I glanced over and spotted a priceless moment. Our son was snuggled up on the couch with our Border Collie pup, Zac (ie Isaac Newton)  watching The Good Doctor. It’s Sunday afternoon, which quite frankly should be declared a “snooze zone” before having to return to the realities of “The Week” on Monday. Hence, I’d slept in, and was still in my PJs. That explains how I managed to capture the moment. I didn’t need to leave the house, or even my chair. My camera was sitting faithfully by my side, just waiting.

Zac is almost 4 months old, and we’ve had him since he was a little 6 week old pup, along with his sister Rosie. Rosie was meant to be a foster pup, and simply passing through. That was before she got caught in our heart strings. Zac and Rosie have also become inseperable. After all, they’re more than brother and sister. Now that the rest of their litter has dispersed, they’re “twins”.

Rosie & Zac BW

Rosie (left) Zac (right). Not quite identical twins.

Of course, with such young pups, you don’t know anything about their personalities, psychology or outlooks on life. You can only base your selection criterion on things like markings and which pup comes to you first. I was the one who chose Zac, because he had distinctive black and white markings, which I thought looked more like Bilbo. Our daughter chose Rosie as she has a broad, white stripe on her face, which she thought looked like Bilbo. Rosie also has black spots on her legs, which I wasn’t too sure about, but others loved. Both dogs were looking short-haired and Bilbo and every other dog I’ve ever had, has been long haired. However, I reasoned that short hair is better suited to our beach lifestyle. It was a tough choice.

Zac was instantly “my dog”, and he was also the pup most determined to turn a  recalitrant, growling Lady, into “Mum”. Rosie palled up with the rest of the family and was a little more cautious about turning to Lady for love. It soon became clear that Zac and Rosie were inseparable, and that having both dogs could be much less work than the one. They could occupy each other.

Back at the end of June before the pups came along, our beloved Border Collie Bilbo passed away. He was 11 years old and we’d had him since a pup. Back then, our son was 2 years old and our daughter was crawling. So, not only had Bilbo seen the kids go through the childhood years, he’d also been with us through each and every up and down with my severe health struggles. I don’t know whether all of that made him a sensitive soul, but he certainly was a very special dog.

And, Bilbo was also a survivor himself. Indeed, he was only a young pup when I was admitted to hospital for about eight weeks and he went from having the kids and I at home almost every day, to me being in hospital, the kids staying at my parents’ place and Geoff getting home super late from work after touring Sydney seeing the rest of us every day. On top of that, the pup also lived through the trauma. A stress beyond stress.


Above: RIP Bilbo.

At least, that’s how we explain Bilbo’s act of determined destruction, which could have killed the wee pup. Bilbo went exploring under the house chewing the the wifi and computer network cables. When an exhausted and irate Geoff retraced his paw prints under the house, he found that Bilbo had even started chewing on an electrical cable and must’ve received a slight zap, which made him stop.

Obviously, that wasn’t the best of times for us.

So, when Bilbo passed away, he took a lot more than memories along with him. There was also the deepest and most compassionate empathy, and an understanding of us which came with walking through the valleys and mountain tops with us and in our hearts.

Lady kids coffee


While we have another dog, Lady, she doesn’t have that same sense of empathy or emotional depth…and isn’t quite so melancholy either. She’ll greet you with an uber-enthusiastic wag of the tail, which could almost take your leg off. She has different talents, but she also doesn’t fetch which was a rather difficult gap for us to ignore. We are a ball throwing family and that requires a dog to fetch, even if he was an annoying, obsessed maniac  more often than not.

Zac & Rosie

Zac & Rosie when they first arrived, aged 6 weeks.

Wanting to let our emotions heal before we adopted another dog, we were going to wait until next year and get another pure-bred Border Collie. However, I got word through the pet rescue group that some Border Collie x puppies were coming in. I could also see that our son could use another dog  now. At the time, this was more of a vague hunch than a neon sign.  although until Zac settled in, I had no idea that he had such a special capacity to heal. A capacity not unique to him, but not universal among dogs either. That he has a gift.

Reversing up a bit, not long after Bilbo died, I caught the flu and a nasty respiratory infection. With my underlying health issues, such infections become life threatening and I developed a powerful, incessant cough which was absolutely terrifying. After losing the dog, the kids were particularly concerned this year and didn’t have Bilbo for support.  After all, it was hard times like this, that Bilbo had always been there for every single one of us. Shaken by such fear on top of grief, our son in particular needed the love only a special dog can give.


That’s why I was so stoked to see our son so snuggled up and entwined with the dog today. As a parent, we so often feel like we’re flying blind.Even when we know we’re doing our best, it’s all to easy to feel like we’re floundering. That despite our best efforts and utilizing every single resource we’ve got, that we’re still getting sucked into the vortex and drowning…along with our beloved child. Seeing our son so relaxed, content fused with the dog and knowing we’ve all made it through the storm, was such a relief. An answer to prayer in a way that made so much sense and yet seems hard to put into words on the weekly praise list…RESCUED DOG SAVES TRAMATISED CHILD.

And, so I’m happy.

In addition to sharing my joy, this photo marks Day 4 of the Seven Day Black Photo Challenge, which a friend roped me into on FB. The idea is that you post a B & W photo every day for seven days and you nominate someone new to take up the challenge every day. Today, I’d like to nominate Trent from Trent’s World.

Have you have a special dog or pet who has whispered magic into your life? Please share.

xx Rowena

Gloat- Day 2 B& W Photo Challenge.

You have to congratulate me on today’s photo. Not because it’s particularly good and when I think of all the millions on photos on my hard drive, it wasn’t even among the best. However, I did think the Scrabble letters would translate well into black & white.

The real reason you have to congratulate me, is that I didn’t post another B & W dog photo. That I was able to pull myself away from the five beautiful dogs chewing on my socks and feet (well, make that the four pups. Lady is too busy sleeping or growling at micro pups who are still convinced this old cranky puss could still be their friend.)Yes, I was able to think about something else.

Well, I have been thinking of a few other things, such as my Irish Famine Orphan research project. I am researching and writing up the stories of around 25 young women who emigrated from Middle Workhouse, Cork to Sydney onboard the John Knox arriving in 1850. I am approaching this as a you have 25 people in the same boat and what happens when they all get out retrospective social experiment type thingy. To get to the story part, I also have to do the geneology of each woman and not having a huge budget (ie $0.00), I’m doing a lot of sifting and my head has become some kind of tabulating machine process names, dates, deaths. Or, in too many cases, being unable to find who she married and their story ends as soon as they get off the boat. That frustrates me no end, because it could well be these women who have the most exciting stories to tell if only I could find them. I am also a tenacious idiot and won’t give up long after it’s become such a cold case, it’s frozen over. BTW, my 4th Great Grandmother was one of those women hence my interest.


Getting back to Scrabble, I managed to spell out GLOAT in a Scrabble match against my husband and son a few months ago. I don’t get to gloat very often when it comes to playing Scrabble against my husband but from memory, I actually won that round. My husband grew up in rural Tasmania and what with all that cold weather in the days before computers and electronics, they played a lot of Scrabble. Indeed, his mother who was a former school teacher, had a massive Webters English Dictionary they used. It’s almost the width of two house bricks.

Our 13 year old son loves playing Scrabble, and wandered into this brutal battleground. Feeling discouraged, I told him that we were training him up so when he played someone else, he’d beat them. I don’t know if that’s the sort of approach you’d find in the parenting textbook. However, my copy must’ve got lost in the mail years ago, because it’s never arrived. How about yours? Do you have one?

Anyway, I have to admit (or more like “confess”), that I was gloating when I finally beat my husband. I knew it was only because he got bad letters, and that he’d soon reclaim his crown. Yet, victory was sweet.

Do you enjoy playing Scrabble or other board games?

BTW I would like to nominate Kathy from Time No Matter to take up the Seven Day Black & White Challenge today.

xx Rowena

The Cinderella Project – Friday Fictioneers.

“Meet me at noon outside Bloomingdales,” he said.

Perhaps, I’m the only person on Earth, who’s never heard of Bloomingdales. Being an outback Australian research scientist, I thought it was a park…not a shopping Mecca dedicated to greed and excess. Why would he want to meet ME there? Me… “Professor Cow Dung”? I was in New York to present a research paper, NOT to go shopping. We might’ve had a spark, but there’s no way I’m swapping my gorgeously shitty gumboots for a pair of sexy glass slippers for any Prince Charming. I’m no one’s Cinderella.


This has been a contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by  Rochelle Wishoff-Fields

When I first saw this week’s prompt, my immediate response was to think about the glitz and glamour, and then did a U-turn. Have any of you seen the Australian movie: Crocodile Dundee, starring Paul Hogan? That came to mind as well and I liked that resolute Australian character who knows who they are and refuses to conform or sell out. Even knee-deep in cow dung, they’re content.

Hope you’re having a great week. We’ve welcomed two Border Collie x Kelpie pups into our family and we’re currently fostering two kelpie pups…Dobbie and Yoda. They’re all asleep at the moment, but our lounge room and backyard are scenes of carnage. They’re chewing everything in sight, including each other but are so cute and so fun. We love them to bits.

xx Rowena

Love Shack…Friday Fictioneers.

In a reverse-journey from riches to rags, Moet to Marxism, Kylie was dossing down in a dilapidated squat, albeit with Daddy’s credit card. Hugh, the acting student, knew nothing about that. He was a foreign student.

“Rapunzel! Rapunzel! Let down your hair.”

Kylie peered over the rusty, corrugated iron rooftop, beaming a knockout smile.

“Alas, handsome Prince, my hair has been cut.”

“What about a ladder? My chariot awaits.”

Gobsmacked, Hugh watched Kylie leap acrobatically over the rafters, and land at his feet…an enigma, a question mark.

Although the pressure was mounting, she said nothing. The gold medal could wait.


This is another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. BTW the Hugh in the story might just happen to be Hugh Jackman who was our local heartthrob when I was at school. I still remember a friend going Hugh Spotting on the trains and I’m sure she wasn’t the only one. However, that doesn’t play into this story. I only borrowed the name.

xx Rowena