A Sports Day medal #Prose4T

This was D yesterday morning, my nervous but excited girl, on the way to her school sports day.

She’s at a special needs school due to her anxieties and autism, mainstream sports days just didn’t happen for her – unfamiliar/too many people, too much noise (from her perspective). We’d have the practice, the build-up, the change of clothes and then anxieties would overtake at the last moment.

Prose 4 T is being hosted by @EllieAllAtSea this week and I’m linking up with this:

A sports day medal:

Longed for, dreamt of, for days if not all year.
The absence of one would cause some tears.

Running fast, throwing far,
Trying her best.
She did it! She came second, she was (nearly) faster than the rest.

Angry bird tshirt worked,
She almost flew down that track,
She was aiming for me, cheering and standing at the line,
Nearly knocked me onto my back!

Tears turned to joy now, smiles and hurrays.
The event is over, a good way to spend a day.

Medal placed under pillow now,
Held close at night,
She did her best, my angry bird D,
A good ending was in sight.

Switching places with Itsey? #Prose4T

I got a bit stuck with today’s #Prose4T, normally I have a subject, a title and I’m away! I started and deleted two posts about different but relevant subjects before this one.

To give some background, we have two cat sisters: Itsey and Bitsey. Bitsey is a guard cat, a grumpy-looking fluffball and Itsey is quite possibly the springiest cat ever! She doesn’t run, she bounces! She always jumps if a leaf flies past her, so spends most of her days like this:

Shall we switch places?

It must be easy being a cat,
Not having to worry about this problem or that.

Spending your whole day sleeping in the sun,
miaowing at overhead birds is your idea of fun.

Occasionally giving out a purr if it suits,
You like to rub up against leggings, trousers and boots.

Out for the evening then creep onto a warm bed,
Curled up into a ball, paws over your head.

Wouldn’t it be funny if we swapped places for the day?
You go on the school runs, I’ll purr, snooze and play…

Oh, with a worm? No thank you, that’s gross!
Let’s each stick to what we both do best the most.
I’ll carry on being a Mumma, a wife and daughter too,
You go back to sleep Itsey, sorry to disturb you!

This IS me #Prose4T

I really enjoying linking up with Vicky at vevivos.com for #Prose4T every week. It’s a chance to think outside my “Mumma/carer/wife” box for a little while.

I wrote a post earlier this year about my Christian name, the various ways it could be spelt and, surprisingly, the random items that bear my name…Jeannette Moulinex anyone?

One of my favourite Autism Awareness posts is entitled A is for …. Autism and I thought I’d try the same for #Prose4T and my name, encompassing my little quirks!

Here goes:

I am Jeannette, I am me. There’s nine letters in my name you see.

J is for joker. I like to laugh.
Silly toilet humour words like parp, burp and barf.

E is for enthusiastic. Set me a challenge and I’ll do it.
My stubbornness overtakes and I’ll work my way through it.

A is for Autism Awareness, a mission I hold dear.
With two diagnosed children, my determination is clear.

N is for nonsense, I don’t take and won’t give it.
Call a spade a spade is my motto, two-faced people can go leg it!

N is also for Nettie, my childhood nickname.
I tried it in adulthood, it wasn’t the same.

E is for energy, sometimes I have none.
I wish I had oodles of it, to get more done.

T is for time, it goes by too fast.
I don’t feel my age but try not to live in the past.
(apart from music)

T is also for my son, he makes me so proud.
He and his sister, being autistic, they don’t like a crowd.

E is for that’s everything, I can’t add any more.
Nine letters, three E’s, learning to write it…cor!

Thanks for reading Jx

Knuckle-dusting Grandma #Prose4T

It’s Thursday and I’m linking up with @VicWelton at vevivos.com for Prose4T.

Today’s poem came about as a result of a little old lady I saw on the bus earlier this week. I had my sunglasses on so was looking over in her direction in a bored-commuter type of way.

She had at least six rings on each of her middle and ring fingers. First of all, I was thinking “ouch, that must restrict her movement” and then I wondered about why she’d have so many on. Random thoughts which turned into this:

Knuckle-dusting Grandma

Sparkling rings glistening in the sunshine,
Each one has a tale to tell.
Anniversaries, births and legacies,
Memories to make her heart swell.

Six rings on each finger, must be painful,
Covering over finger joints.
Rings of love, can’t choose between them,
She’s wearing each one to prove a point.

Beautiful jewels that last a lifetime,
Passed down before her, will carry on.
Her descendants will wear and marvel,
At the jewels after she is gone.

But for now, it’s time to leave her,
Off the bus, she heads for lunch,
Watch out muggers, don’t consider it,
All those rings will pack a punch!

Happy Anniversary Mr Bluecrisps

Today’s #Prose4T is dedicated to Mr Bluecrisps aka Hubbie. It’s our wedding anniversary today, we went out on our first date 13 years ago today and married two years later – on the same day.

Happy Anniversary

Haven’t the last 11 (or 13!) years flown by?
You’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me cry.
We got married on that bright sunny day,
Freesias covering the fact that our son was on the way.

A ceremony in Jersey, it brought on the tears,
Tears of love, tears of happiness,
The feelings have carried on throughout the years.

And this year they’re stronger, we’re really being put to the test,
You’re a husband and father, you always do your best.

I’ve only got one gripe,
Shall I say it? I ought.
For when your sister said
“You’ve got to like sport..”

I thought she was joking,
I laughed along.
But how, how could I have got it so wrong?

Football – any football – and Sky sports news.
If it’s round, a ball and it’s being kicked,
You’ll sit for hours and view.

And, our son who was in my belly?
Our handsome, clever T.
Is just as obsessed with “the beautiful game”,
Oh “woe is me!”

But we’re a team, you and me,
With our children, in our home.
Together forever, my true blue with me going tap-tap-tap on my phone!

Thanks for the lilies, my favourite bloom,
11 years ago today, we were bride and groom.

Love you, J

#Prose4T I’m in love with…

I’m linking up with Vic Welton at vevivos.com for #Prose4T today.

Apologies, this poem seems a bit crass in light of the truly sickening events in Woolwich yesterday.

To give a little bit of background, we have a S*ny V*io laptop, which has been renamed cr*ptop! It’s incredibly slow and just about manages to power up, spluttering away. It would take all day to do anything blog-related so I don’t attempt that.

Every so often there’s sleazily-portrayed stories in a weekly magazine I buy about people becoming so attached to their cars of trucks that they marry them, this isn’t one of those attractions, just a major case of computer envy!

“I’m in love with…

Goodness me, I’m in love with an iMac.
A 27″ screen if you please.
This isn’t a smutty story in a magazine,
I don’t want to marry it, it’s not sleaze.

I always stroll into the Apple store
And load up my blog.
It looks all shiny and gorgeous,
Well worth the job.

But look out the window,
Are those piggies flying by?
It’s a heck of a lot of money,
I’ll save up to do it, I will try.

Wait for me, you shiny big iMac,
Wait for me please,
I’ll compute with you one day,
But I’ve already said, no sleaze!!”

#Prose4T I am a lilac tree..

Today’s #Prose4T (linking up with vevivos.com)is full of metaphors. Full!

To give a bit of background, I am a bit of a purple addict..handbag, FitFlops, sofa, towels…oh yes, purple magpie.

I bought our lilac tree two years ago and the first year obviously it was finding its bearings and rooting down, last year it didn’t do much, what with the near-drought conditions for 5 months and then monsoon-like weather for the next 3, but this year, it’s starting to flower and it’s beautiful, just a stunning colour.

I am a Lilac Tree

See me swaying, gently in the breeze.
Nodding, turning to face the sun.
I am a lilac tree.

The children bounce and play,
Safe in their garden,
I watch over them, happily.
I am a lilac tree.

My blossoms open, rich and fragrant,
Beautiful but just for a while.
See my branches, reaching out.
Watch my leaves grow, see me smile.
I am a lilac tree.

My roots grow underneath, out of sight.
Ever reaching, looking for nurture.
So much of my activity is beneath the surface,
Ever thinking, ever searching for answers to questions unasked.
I am a lilac tree.

The winds batter me, the rains soak me,
I stand my position, tall and strong.
I’ve found my home, my place in the garden,
I’m always here, ever protecting against any wrong.
I am a lilac tree.

Thanks for reading Jx