Cheese, Chocolate, And Coffee

eastelmhurst.a.go.go

It most certainly doesn’t qualify me as the least bit outside the mainstream but a major guilty pleasure of mine has always been drinking too much coffee. Unlike many other people I enjoy flavored coffee too.

Practically every day I enjoy going to the Coffee Nut Cafe, to get my daily does of coffee. Up until fairly recently I got the really nice flavored lattes. After a while, though, I started settling for the less expensive flavored coffees. They come from many different countries, including Bolivia and Panama.

We also have another place, Gentle Brew, which is slightly farther away. They have such exceptionally nice breakfasts there on Saturday and Sunday mornings. I unfortunately haven’t been there in a while. I hope to starting going there for breakfast at least occasionally again.

Besides coffee I can also, if I let my guard down, do quite an exceptionally fine job of…

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Matters of heart (NaPoWriMo)

paeansunpluggedblog

If it is about the matters of heart
no picture can do justice
nor paint every emotion, every desire
you need exact words to convey
what the heart is feeling
every throb of heart needs decoding.

That sudden flush of first love;
when your heart thuds loudly against your ribcage
and you are sure everyone can hear the deafening sound
the heartbeats seem to tattoo an unknown emotion in your chest
overwhelming you so much that you are unable to speak
no picture can capture that!

You need words to express that first exquisite kiss
when your lips fumbled to find theirs
and how that kiss had you in raptures
that coursed through your veins with the intensity
of a thousand forest fires.

What about the bottomless pit
your heart fell into when it was broken
how it took you eons to retrieve each piece
each shard was needed to…

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A to Z challenge -F is for Fitness

Keep it alive

Personalexperiences, incidents and smiles

I started my walking journey seven years ago. It all started when I brought my first fitness tracker, Fitbit. I have achieved my walking goals. My tracker, made me get up and walk 250 steps, for at least five hours a day. It reminded me that I haven’t achieved my daily steps goal. If I was a bit short on getting to my goal for the day, there was an encouraging message on my app. And similarly, if I went 25% beyond my goal, I’d get a well-done message. These all motivational messages and prompts kept me on my toes, literally.

If I can walk that much, you can too. We just need the proper motivation.There are numerous benefits of walking for us all. Health, both physicaland mental is greatly improved by taking a walk, at least five days a week.

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That old place

Keep it alive

There is that old place deep in the wilderness

Memories it holds of my bygone days

I visit it in my dreams, never in real life

The guilt I feel at abandoning it eats at my soul

Better let it stand forlorn, neglected and alone

The good the bad that lives in its walls

Swirl inside that old place in solitary peace

➰➰➰

Written for CCC # 178, hosted by Crispina Kemp

#Keepitalive

#CCC

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Do All Good Things Come to an End?

Sgeoil

They say all good things come to an end but I say it is a matter of perspective, what if they just keep coming? Like a sunrise so spectacular that your eyes dazzle behind liquid lids and just when you think it is coming to an end, a blossom begins to unfurl and you watch mesmerized by each delicate petal paying homage to the sun and you think this is it, but then a bee buzzes by, pauses to gather all the pollen it can and you watch it hover, then sway heavily laden with its baskets of gold as it continues its journey and you whisper "good-bye sweet bee," then a neighbour shouts out "Good Morning" and beams a wonderful smile as wide as a watermelon slice and you feel the shiver of contentment, and you think , yes, this must be the end of it, but your love…

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Soups and Forks

Secret Thoughts Within

Original image found here

She eats her soup
and wonders who the people are in front of her
They call her mum
it makes her uneasy –
she doesn’t know who they are

She spills her drink down her shirt
hating the man she’s been told is her husband
He wipes her chin as she glares at him –
she’s not a child

She scratches at the feel of her jumper
itchy on her skin, but she won’t say anything
Someone will try to change her –
she hates being touched

She tries to contribute to the conversation, 
but the words come out jumbled
She forgets what she was going to say – 
she’s angry as everyone stares

She looks around the table mystified, 
no one and nothing is familiar 
Confused by all she sees, she picks up a fork – 
and continues eating her soup


One of my friend’s…

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