This is a Recording

I came home on Sunday night to a lovely message from "Cathy Webster from Ontario". It's always a pleasure to hear from Cathy, she's like a spot of sunshine.

The gist of her message was that I should do a recording of my #fridayflash story Duckish (part1). She'd already mentioned this in the comments, but that wasn't enough. It needed a follow up call.

I've never tried to record anything I've written. I probably wouldn't have done it at all except for the phone call. Cathy was just so sweet and so damn manipulative convincing.

It took four tries to get this. The first three times were incoherent, even to me. I laughed myself silly. It really seemed unnatural to speak so slowly ("Slow?" you say. "Ha!" - I heard you). You might still need to read along to figure out what I'm saying. Forewarned is forearmed.

So here is my first recording attempt. Enjoy, or at least pretend you did.

Biking the Bridge

When we decided on a trip to San Francisco, my husband’s main focus was planning a walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. It would be a better experience than merely driving across, he said, and the best way to get some great photos. I agreed, so we put aside a day stroll on the bridge.

But early in our trip Jonathan discovered that we could rent bicycles to ride across the bridge. This, he decided, would be the ultimate experience. His enthusiasm would have been contagious but for a small problem. I had not been on a bike in over 15 years. I had never ridden a bike with gears or handlebar brakes. I had never ridden a bike where a helmet was required. And I had certainly never ridden a bike in city traffic. I was nervous. Very nervous.

We arrived at the bike rental shop around 11:00 a.m. on the day of the outing. We were fitted for bikes and bright green helmets, given a quick rundown of the route, and we were off. I had a few false starts, but by the time we reached the first big hill, I’d mastered the gears and breaking. The first stretch of the ride was along the fisherman’s wharf, and required us to bike through traffic and across busy streets. Once we reached the bicycle path it was much easier to relax and enjoy. Jonathan, who’d biking to work for the past few years, showed considerable patience while I figured things out.



Fort Point in the fog



The day started off quite foggy, as days in San Francisco are known to do. It turned out to be perfect for biking. We took a short detour to view the bridge from Fort Point, and we watched some surfers there before heading up the steep incline to the bridge entrance. This was the most challenging part of the ride, and I had to get off and push my bike at some points.

By the time we reached the bridge, the sun had come through. I was intimidated at first by the crowds, and by the massive size of the bridge, but the ride was much easier than I expected. We took our time, being mindful of pedestrians and other cyclists, especially those who came around the pillars a little too quickly.



View from the bridge



We stopped at a few points along the way, to take some photos and enjoy the view, which is spectacular but dizzying if you lean too close to the edge. The Golden Gate Bridge itself is remarkable to see, and biking across gave us a new perspective of this iconic structure.

Once across the bridge we continued on to Sausalito, where it was suggested that we get a bite to eat and return to San Francisco, either across the bridge or on the ferry. Although I was still a little nervous at this point, neither of us was tired or ready to end our day.



Some fellow cyclists resting in Sausalito



We biked through the town at a leisurely pace, then continued on to Bothin Marsh. This was a section of the ride I particularly enjoyed. It was such a lovely day; warm, sunny. We saw egrets wading in the marsh, and many other smaller birds I couldn’t identify. It was such a peaceful place, and I tried to burn every image into my memory.

We decided to continue our course to Tiburon. This involved a few uphill climbs, but the strenuous nature of the ride was worth it for the views. We met a man with a Mark Twin moustache who nodded and offered encouragement. “Not much further,” he told us. We passed the Audubon center, and just a little further down the road, we were treated to some fresh organic lemonade, sold by a little boy and his mom outside their home. It was icy cold and so good, just what we needed to get us through the last stretch.
 






By the time we reached Tiburon we were famished. We shared a pizza, then strolled around the waterfront area while we awaited the ferry. By the time we returned the bikes to the rental place it was just before 7:00 pm. We had been on the road almost eight hours, and had travelled approximately 32 km (20 miles).

A word of warning for beginning bicyclists: Although I would highly recommend this outing, it is very strenuous and could be problematic for beginners. I had some trouble with the bigger hills, and although I wasn’t sore the next day, my legs felt like jello. The routes that take in the bridge alone, or the short ride to Sausalito are perfect for new or (like me) rusty cyclists.



View from the ferry


It’s interesting to note that the experience I dreaded most turned out to be the highlight of our trip. I’ll never forget it. Just like riding a bike.

Duckish (Part 1)

“Think, Maggie. Think. Use the sense God gave you.”

That’s what he always said. Think. She would love to, but sure who could do that with family on all sides yammering at you? Everyone talking, nobody listening. Her father was the worst of the lot.

Maggie shifted and straightened her legs in front of her. The damp grass was beginning to soak through her skirt. Far below, the waves rolled onto the rocks with a gentle shoosh that was pure music. The sea was calm today, and it calmed Maggie as well.

Her father would have a fit if he knew she was here. He didn’t want her going too close to the cliffs, or wandering through Major’s woods to get there. His fears ranged from real dangers to superstitious nonsense. She’d slip and fall, she’d get lost, the fairies or some other ancient evil would get her. You’d swear she was two instead of twenty. But he wanted her to think, didn’t he? And this was the only place she could do that.

Everyone had an opinion about her life. Her father thought she should go back to school, become a nurse, work at the General Hospital in St. John’s. Use her brains. That’s what she had ‘em for. Her grandmother thought she should go find a man, someone with money and a big house.

They didn’t understand.

She could never live in the city. She belonged here. She liked working in the café. She wanted to get her own place, open her own little bookstore, right here in Gallows Cove. That was her dream. Marriage was hardly a concern. She’d go down that road if, and only if, the right man came along. She wasn’t going to go looking for him.

Maggie rubbed her arms. The fog was rolling in, and it was getting cold. She took one last look out over the ocean and then pushed to her feet. The ground was soft from heavy rains, and as she stood, part of the threshold gave away under her foot.

She scrambled as she fell, grabbing at stalks and grass that came away in her hands. Pebbles rained onto her head as she slid and grabbed. Her fingers grasped a narrow ridge in the rock and she clung on as the wind snatched at her clothes and hair. She was a few feet from the top, too far to reach, and with no foot hold, she couldn’t climb up.

Maggie closed her eyes. Maybe someone would find her here. Maybe her father would come looking for her. She almost laughed. Yes, or maybe the fairies would come to the rescue. Her fingers were already starting to ache. She looked around for a more secure handhold, but the only thing near enough to grab was rock jutting out from the earth a few feet to the left. It would give her a little more surface to grip, but once she let go of the ledge there was no going back. What if the rock wasn’t stable? What if her weight pulled it from the cliff and she fell into the icy water below? Maggie looked down. She would be lucky to hit the water, and not the rocks.

The ache in her fingers had turned to a sharp pain, and now a tingling numbness was setting in. That rock was her only chance of getting back on solid ground, or of hanging on long enough to be rescued. There really wasn’t much choice. Maggie clenched her jaw and swung her arm out and up.

Book Recommendation: Come, Thou Tortoise by Jessica Grant

Jessica Grant’s debut novel is an enjoyable read that combines quirky humour with a captivating, insightful story.

Audrey Flowers is adrift, abandoned by her boyfriend, and living in Portland, Oregon. When she finds out that her father has been in an accident, she leaves her pet tortoise, Winnifred, with friends and travels home to St. John’s, Newfoundland.

We learn about the endearingly innocent Audrey (or Oddly as she is called by her family) through her own ordeals, and through the eyes of her beloved tortoise. More importantly, we watch as Audrey learns about herself.

Come, Thou Tortoise is a story about family, love, hope, loss, life, and maintaining a sense a humour through it all. Grant keeps up a whirlwind pace through short chapters, peculiar word play, and colourful characters. Yet, she maintains a depth that carries the story through a heartwarming conclusion.

I would not say no to more books from Jessica Grant.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

It's a quiet St. Paddy's Day here. Our celebrating was done this past weekend with good friends, good music and lots of good food. And family, of course, who are always the best entertainment anyway. There were a few interesting events that will be imortalized in poem or song, for sure.

But I'll still take the time today to raise a pint to all my friends, and leave you with this toast.

May those who love us, love us.

And those who don’t love us, may God turn their hearts.

And if he doesn’t turn their hearts, may he turn their ankles,

So we may know them by their limping.

sláinte

PS: There's a free download of Roddy Doyle's short story Brilliant for anyone interested in a literary way to celebrate.

March Madness

Just a couple of days gone and I have so much catching up to do.

Firstly, let me point you in the direction of Chris Allinotte's March Madness showcase. I was delighted to have my story, Paranoia, chosen to start off the week. Drop back each day this week for more stories that are sure to disturb. Chris's blog, The Leaky Pencil, has a great new look as well.

A big thanks to everyone who showed up for the grand re-opening. I had a great time. And thanks to everyone who helped clean up after the time. I tossed all the names into the sock monkey hat (two for those of you who wrote the awesome limericks) and my lovely assistant pulled out the names. Here are the winners:

Tval lotion and lipgloss
Stacey (from Word of Mouse Book Reviews)

Brilliant Ideas Mouse Pad
John Wiswell

Amazon Gift Card
Sean Patrick Reardon

Come Thou, Tortoise
Erin Cole

I'll be in touch with each of the winners to arrange the delivery of your prizes.

Thanks everyone!

Shave for the Brave - The Mane Event

Before

I've been talking about it for months, and now the deed is done. I didn't sleep a wink last night, thinking about the events of the day ahead. I decided I would get up and head to the mall early to scope out the set up for the Shave for the Brave.

When I lined up at 10:00 am, there were about a dozen people ahead of me. Ten minutes later the lineup went all the way back past several stores, and around the corner. A lot of people were giving up their hair today for a good cause.

I'm lucky to have a very good friend who stopped by to bring me a coffee as I waited in line. It was so well organized, and moved so quickly that my son Jon and I barely had time to get settled after registration when our numbers were called to be shorn.

I was nervous. Very nervous. I didn't think I would be, but my hands were shaky and I had butterflies. I sat in the chair and within seconds Crystal was piling my wavy locks into my lap, and telling me how nice my head looked. There were lots of onlookers, and we could see a lot of familiar smiling (and giggling) faces in the crowd. We had some family watching, and some friends. Alan Davidson and his boy, Sean, were there to show their support and it was great to see them. Alan, having done something similar himself a while back, had some advice, but he wasn't giving up his fez.

Just the start



All my hair in my lap



In no time at all, we were all done. The staff on hand were so cheerful and encouraging, and it was just a great experience overall.





After



I learned very quickly how big a part hair plays in helping to regulate body temperature. Just walking through the mall under the air conditioning vents gave me a chill. Good thing they give us those awesome bright yellow Shave for the Brave toques.

Thank you, once again to everyone who donated, spread the word, and otherwise supported our endeavour. And thanks to all the organizers of Shave for the Brave for making it such a rewarding experience. It feels good to have been a part of something so worthwhile. Even if it is a little draughty.

Congrats to everyone involved with the Shave for the Brave on another well run, very successful event. I'm so glad that Young Adult Cancer Canada is out there, doing what they do.

Today's the Day!

This is it, the long awaited day of baldness. I'm leaving soon to take part in the Shave for the Brave. Wish me luck. I'm very excited. The temperatures are above 0°c  which is good. Even better is that I won't be alone.

My ten year old, Jon, has decided to shave today as well - a last minute decision so his mom wouldn't be bald alone. Together, we have raised $5,130 for Young Adult Cancer Canada.

Thank you so much to everyone who has donated and spread the word about this amazing cause. Shaving my head wouldn't mean much without your generosity.

I'll be back sometime in the next few days to tell you all about it.

Going Home

She made sure to wear her good dress and shoes, ‘cause if she was going she wanted them to think it was by choice, not necessity. It had been a long time, so long she couldn’t remember the last time she licked a stamp to send a note their way, and she figured they just gave up trying to track her down.

The trip was longer than she remembered. She got off the bus at the station and walked the familiar route toward the place she once called home. The streets were all the same, just more run down, tired.  She guessed she was too.

She reached her destination and stopped, double checked to make sure she had it right. She sat down on the case that held all that she had left, surrounded by the ruins of the rest. It was true what they said – you can never go home again.

Welcome to Calling Shotgun

Come on in! Out with the old and in with the new. New look, new name. A change is as good as a rest, my mom always says.

Let me show you around. First of all, the new name. After much thought and deliberation, I decided on Calling Shotgun (which was the bright idea of my oldest daughter). I thought it embodied not only how I saw my blog, but how I coast along as well. Sure it's fun to drive, but kicking back in the passenger seat, watching the world, etching it into your brain, recording what you see, how you see it - that's where it's at. When you drive you have to focus on the road. I'd much rather call shotgun. Also, I liked the on the road feel of the name. It's where I love to be.

Now, I must apologise for the cold. I know the header photo and the colours are very wintry. I took that photo just last week. When I see spring, you will too. It might take a while.

I also toyed with the idea of changing my url, but decided to stay put right here for the time being. It's much easier for everyone if I do. I don't want to get lost, or lose anyone else. I don't have one of those fancy GPS things yet.

On to the fun stuff! I have a few things in my glovebox that I want to give away. Let me tell you what I've got.

A lotion and lipbalm from Tval. This stuff is heavenly (and made in Newfoundland).

A Brilliant Ideas paper mousepad, for recording and rating your brilliance.

A $5.00 Amazon Gift Card

And a copy of the excellent book Come Thou, Tortoise by Jessica Grant (also from Newfoundland).

All you've got to do to is:

1) Follow and
2) Leave a comment on this post.

As I said before, any comment will do (if you write a limerick you get two entries). You have all weekend, the grand re-opening will continue until Sunday evening. All your names will then go into the sock monkey hat and my lovely assistant will choose the winners of these fun prizes. I will announce the winners on Monday.

This will be a busy weekend for me. On Saturday I finally do the deed and get my head shaved in the big Shave for the Brave Event. I'll be back with pictures! I will also be travelling to my hometown this weekend to take in the Cultural Weekend festivities. I may or may not have Internet access, but I will try to drop back in now and then. In the meantime, have fun, and can the last one to leave put out the cat?

Pancake Day

Pancake Day was always a big event in our house when I was a wee one. Mom made a huge batch of pancakes for the family, and one special batch of mystery pancakes. This apparently is an Irish custom, hiding small items in the pancakes to predict the future of your offspring.

You had to be very careful when eating the mystery pancakes. The items were small, and you didn't want to risk swallowing one, and not finding out what your future held. The choking hazard was a secondary concern. There was a button which meant you would be a tailor (or maybe a bachelor?), a nail meant you would be a carpenter, a nickel meant you would be rich (everyone wanted that one), a holy medal meant you would be a priest or nun (nobody wanted that one), and a ring meant you would be married. If you were lucky enough to get two mystery pancakes you could end up a married bachelor (which was confusing) or a rich carpenter (which was awesome!).

In our Catholic household, Pancake Day was also the day before the beginning of Lent. Because of the upcoming stretch of forty days with no sweets, we made sure to pour on the maple syrup.

Today I will be making blueberry pancakes for my brood, with a special batch of mystery pancakes on the side. The items should probably be updated though. I'll have to see what I can find to symbolize a doctor, astronaut, zoologist, fairy princess, swim instructor.

Mardi Gras, Shrove Tuesday, Fat Tuesday - whatever you call it, have a happy one.
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Today is the last day of Brain Droppings. The blog will be down tomorrow for a facelift, and will be back up on Thursday with a new name. See you then!

One Week!

Just one more week to Shave for the Brave. I've doubled my goal and then some, thanks so many wonderful, generous people. I'm a little nervous, and a lot excited.

Take the time to head over to the Shave for the Brave website and see what they're all about. Young Adult Cancer Canada is such an amazing organization. While you're there, have a look at the stories from these two Shavers. I thought they were so inspiring.

Christian Legge & his mom

Kris Barrett

We're All Mad Here

She came uninvited and insisted on pouring. Clean cup, and everyone moved, stepping carefully, choosing wisely. No one wanted to sit near Alice.

The empty sugar bowl set her off. She smiled, cold as iced tea, terrible and mad. My beautiful china, shattered across the table, patterned with red.

She screamed and thrashed until they came and dragged her from the spill of Earl Grey and blood. They soothed with quiet words and a drink me potion.

I hid with the dormouse, huddled beneath the table, afraid we would be next.

Speaking of Madness, today is the last day to submit for Chris Allinotte's March Madness write-in. Click the link to find out more.

Brain Droppings No More

I never intended to keep Brain Droppings. It was a stop-gap name for an experimental foray into the world of blogging. I never expected to have more than one follower, certainly never dreamed of having over a hundred. The name stayed through a few years of false starts and quick exits. I contemplated changing it a while back, and got several messages saying I should keep it the way it is. So I did.

But now the time has come. Brain Droppings has outstayed it's welcome. I have long wanted something a little more original, more in keeping with the personality of the blog, and with my own mindset.

Next Thursday, March 10, I will unveil the new name. I'm very excited and I'm throwing a blog party! Swing by for some virtual punch to celebrate my new name. And there will be a few prizes. You just have to show up and do two things:

     1) follow and

     2) leave a comment.

Any comment will do. Tell me what you think of the new name, what you would like to read here in the future, whatever strikes your fancy. I will also accept limricks.

I'll give more details about the giveaways later. I hope to see you all here for the Grand Re-Naming!