Tuesday 26 May 2015

Coffee memories

Exercise 15: Diner cheeseburger deluxe. Mrs. Brune’s lasagna. Cheese and veggie omelet MRE. No, this isn’t my “To Eat” list, although I sure could go for some lasagna, now that I think about it. Rather, I can tell you a story about each one of these items, evoking a couple of memories along the way.
For this challenge, write a scene in which food plays a role. It could be major, it could be incidental. But share with us the story that your character will always remember when next they see, smell, and/or taste that food.

Coffee Memories


He scooped a small handful of the rich brown Mexican beans out of the bag, and poured them into the coffee grinder. Carefully placing the lid on top, he pressed the button to start the process. The beans rattled around at first, and then the pitch changed. "Not too long." he reminded himself, he wanted the grind just right, too coarse and the full flavor would not be released, too long and it will too fine and will leave sediment in the brew.

When he felt the time was right, he stopped the grinder and opened the lid. He brought the machine close to his nose and breathed in the aroma. It was rich, earthy, with hints of spices and fruits. As he took in the heady combination an image came to his mind, a small white stucco building, trimmed with a light green.

Sun filtered through branches of the coffee plants, their cherry red fruit grew in clusters. Coffee beans were spread out on a concrete pad to dry, a tarp stretched over the area, offered protective shade. The owner explained how his family had run this small plantation in San Sebastian del Oeste for five generations as he described how he picked the fruit by hand when it was at its ripest, a deep ruby red.

The entire process was demonstrated, the cleaning, drying of the beans, and finally the roasting. The coffee roaster emitted waves of heat in the stifling hot afternoon. Beans prepared earlier were ground in an ancient hand grinder, and brewed. All the guests were served a small earthenware cup of the fresh brew, piping hot, it was refreshing to drink, even on such a hot sunny day.

He added the fresh grounds to a French press and poured the boiling water over them, stirred gently and set the strainer on the top. Now all that is left is to wait a few minutes before carefully pushing the handle down to get all the coffee grounds separated on the the bottom.

The coffee, visible through the glass carafe,was a deep, mysterious brown. The scent of the coffee takes him back to that afternoon at the small plantation, and the memory of the small dog that played with him there. He smiled.

© 2015 NoelHC

 

For images of this little family coffee business in San Sebastian del Oeste, Jalisco, Mexico see the link below.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/collazoprojects/sets/72157629821186605/

From blogger Julie Collazo, I couldn't find mine on the computer yet. 


Saturday 9 May 2015

Road Trip

Exercise 13: Your characters are on a road trip, driving along, seeing the sights. Maybe they are on a deadline. Maybe they are just out for a joy ride. Maybe they’re on their way to Missouri to clear out a nest of vamps. In any case, they see something on the side of the road that they just have to stop and check out.
Write a short piece that clues us in as to what they saw, and why it made them stop in their tracks.




Driving into the sun.
Sky is almost free of clouds.
The sun, a huge disc, shining straight into my eyes.

Dust stirred up by the cars in front of me lit up,
a haze hanging over the road.
George Strait playing, loud.

I want to just keep driving into it.


The highway stretches out ahead in a straight line , as far as the eye could see, all the way to the snow capped peaks on the horizon.

The sky was the softest, palest blue possible; not a cloud in sight to sully its purity.

Heat shimmer crosses like little creeks on the road in front, until the truck gets closer to them, and then suddenly break up, and join together like droplets of quicksilver, appearing again just a little further ahead, always just beyond reach.

The sunlight reflects off the hood, creating a glare on the windshield, the driver squints to see past it. Insects hit the glass, and makes his view forward even more challenging.

The heat outside is only slightly relieved by the air coming in through the open windows, the noise of it rushing past making it necessary to turn the volume up on the radio. George Strait is playing, the woman singing along with him, blending in so well.

 "Oh my god you're something, like nothing I've ever seen, if I'm asleep let me dream" she sings. 

"You have such a lovely voice. You should sing backup for George." he says

In the ditch on either side of the road wildflowers wave in the breeze, and beyond the ditch the bright sulfur yellow of canola blossoms, reflecting so brightly in the sun it is almost blinding to look at, stirred by the air, move in unison with the wildflowers. Their scent, sweet, almost cloying, wafts in through the windows, perfuming the air.

He looks over at her, reclining in the passenger seat, one arm resting on the window sill, leaning against the door, the other hand busy brushing strands of light blonde hair away from her face as the wind blows it all over. Her long legs are stretched out in front of her, her small, pretty feet, bare, resting on the dash. He says "If anybody else did that to my truck, I would go crazy, they would be on the side of the road, walking. For some reason I don’t mind it when it's you." He admires the curve of her thighs, her calves, in tight cut off jeans. His mind wanders to those legs entwined with his in bed, a few hours earlier this morning.

Her arms are bare, strong, her hands are so graceful, he thinks about them on his chest, up under the front of his shirt, as they kissed outside the truck before leaving, although that was many miles and over an hour ago.

Her tank top strains to hold all of her charms in, his eyes keep returning to her cleavage, it is a good thing the highway has no other traffic on it now, as he keeps correcting the wheel to stay in the lane.

She looks at him with alluring eyes that drive men wild, a smile plays on her lips, she reaches over and puts her hand on his muscular thigh, staking her claim. Her look says "You are mine, you are powerless to resist me."

She stops singing long enough to look off to the right side of the highway and point with her other hand to a small grove of trees and an abandoned farm house, just off the road. “Stop, over there, please,” she says, "I think I have been here before when I was just little, I know that house."

She turns her face back to him, and he knows there is no choice. The truck slows down, and pulls over to the shoulder before turning up the narrow dirt lane. On either side stand old elm trees, their branches meeting over the middle, forming a tunnel. Under their canopy it is shady, and cooler.

Pulling into an open meadow, long grass and tall wildflowers are everywhere. He turns off the engine, and switches off the music. Peace fills the meadow, so quiet, so calm, the only sounds a metallic tick, tick, tick of the engine cooling, the buzz of the bees flying from flower to flower, and a bird singing high in on of the trees at the edge of the grove.

They look at each other, and smile.

Her lovely mouth opens, he is not surprised when she says, "Hey, you, let's go see if we can break into that house."

To be continued.....

© 2015 NoelHC




Image by Followings Photography. For great family and wedding photography in Maple Ridge BC and area check
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Followings-Photography/189047931139328?fref=ts

Monday 4 May 2015

A Moment in Time

Exercise 11: Life is full of mundane missed moments. Sometimes, the subway door closes right as we’re walking down the stairs. Sometimes, we’re the first in line for the movies when they announce the theater is full. If only we hadn’t forgotten our jacket – if only that red light hadn’t caught us – if only … Write a paragraph or several in which your character’s life goes off track due to a missed moment in time …


"You can't leave me stuck here alone with the kids in this weather." my wife said tearfully. "The last time I dug and dug snow for hours, and just when I finished the snowplow came and piled it up deep across the driveway and I couldn't get out." I replied "You know I have to get this done, it is my job." She answered "You don't get overtime, you don't get days off for spending a weekend offshore, so why go on our time? Go on Monday, hopefully the storm has passed by then."

The weather forecast was calling for heavy snow fall. She had problems digging out before when I was away. Being stranded in our house with no family to help out, and two young children concerned her. On the other hand, my supervisor was adamant that I go offshore to check on the modifications. I was torn between the two, and after much thought made my decision. As there was no compensation, or days off in trade, spending a weekend offshore was not fair to me or to my young family.

 I cancelled my helicopter flight, and rescheduled it for the following Monday morning. We had many errands to do that weekend. She saw no reason why I had to spend the weekend offshore. Frankly, neither did I, it was my boss that thought I must go out. I already knew what modifications were required to adapt the drilling fluid system to handle oil based drilling fluids as I had already been involved in the conversion on its sister ship previously.

Sunday morning arrived, and with it a wild snow storm blew in from the ocean. Our house was less than a mile away from Conception Bay, and there was little to block the wind coming in over it. The snow drifted in against the ocean side of our house, and completely blocked the door way. I had to go out of the house through another door, and dig in to clear the huge drift away from the entrance. The whole family went outside. My wife and I shoveled to clear the driveway so we could move the cars, the children climbed up the snow banks and slid down them.

The news broadcasts covered the weather offshore as well as on land for Newfoundland. The predictions for the Grand Banks called for very strong winds and extreme wave heights. I was glad I was not out there. Even after many years at sea the motion of the platform in waves made me nauseous and dizzy.

That night the wind howled and rattled the house like nothing we had ever heard before; I thought the doors would blow in with the force against them. I slept, fitfully, waking up often to check the time, as I had to leave early to drive to the heliport.

I woke to the alarm clock, and got out of bed. I looked out the window in the darkness, and could see more snow had fallen overnight, and had been blown into deep drifts across our driveway and the long street down to the main highway. I went out to the end of our drive and saw the snow, above my knees, all the way down to the main road. Driving the car would not be possible until a plow came and cleared the road.

I returned to the house and called the heliport to advise them I would not be able to get there for my flight to the rig. A grim voice at the other end said, "Nobody is flying out to the Ocean Ranger today."

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On February 14, 1982, the Ocean Ranger was hit by a large wave, took on water, and began to list severely. Lifeboats were launched, and the order to abandon ship was given. The drill rig capsized, and sunk. All 84 crew on board perished.

The article below gives details of the incident, and a summary of the report into the disaster. The memorial statue shown at the end of this article was the result of fundraising and lobbying efforts by my friend Rob Strong and myself, in memory of those lost at sea.

http://www.heritage.nf.ca/articles/economy/ocean-ranger.php

© 2015 NoelHC

Ocean Ranger Memorial, 2010




Sunday 3 May 2015

Meditations on meditation

Exercise 9: If you have a favorite meditation technique, feel free to use that. Otherwise, take a seat somewhere comfortable and out of reach of electronic distractions. Let your thoughts cycle through until they settle. If there are any ideas or thoughts that insist on persisting, write them down on a notebook. Enjoy the respite from the constant forward motion of our overfull lives. At the end, grab a nice cup of coffee to jolt you back to reality (sorry, it has to happen …) take a look at what you have on the notebook. If there is something there, take a minute and go deeper — bring it out in a sketch of a paragraph or two. If you have nothing on the notebook, you can at least enjoy the brief moment of contemplation.


When this #WriteFridays prompt arrived I was traveling through Toronto to Orlando to take two of our grandchildren to DisneyWorld.

It was extremely difficult to "take a seat somewhere comfortable", after all I was on an airplane. "Out of reach of  electronic distractions" is not that simple when there is a small display in the seat back immediately in front of you, as well as the screens other passengers were watching nearby. The normal in-cabin flight announcements and safety demonstrations, in both official languages, interrupted my thoughts frequently.

I usually take notes on my Blackberry phone Memo app, and then e-mail them to myself to work on later. This trip I decided to leave the phone at home, as I wanted to concentrate on enjoying the time together with the grandchildren. Instead I took a small memo book, the type with the coil binding at the top, small enough to be put in a shirt pocket. This one featured a small strip of elastic riveted on the cover that could hold a small pencil.

Once the flight was in the air and the announcement that we were now free to move about the cabin came on, I started to "let my thoughts cycle through until they settle". Initially my thoughts were of seeing my grandchildren again, the last time we had been together with them was six months prior. They live on the far end of the country, three time zones away and at the end of the day here, it is bed time for them, so we don't get to visit on the phone or Facetime often.

Thoughts of them eventually drifted to thoughts of my own grandparents, all long gone now, but still a very big part of my memories to this day. One memory, which is more a collection of a number of scenes with my paternal grandparents came to the forefront.

I took out my notebook and began to write down points as they occurred to me. Reading over my notes now I have a list. The list will form the backbone of another memoir chapter I plan to write and share with my own grandchildren.

My list of notes:

Chores done
Supper
Woodstove
Kerosene lamp
Transistor Radio
CFCW Ukrainian music hour
Grandfather bent forward listening
Frost on windows
Cold draft
Cup of tea, milk and sugar
Bread, homemade, butter, jam
Go to bed
Moonlight on the wall
Get up
Look out window
Dark blue shadows on white snow, of wooden fence, tall black spruce trees
Full moon, high in clear sky
Dogs barking
Coyotes howling in response, distant.

I dozed off, thinking of that scene, or collection of impressions from a number of scenes over the years visiting them on the farm.

We arrived in Toronto, very early in the morning, to "grab a nice cup of coffee to jolt you back to reality" and found our gate to wait for our son and the grandchildren to arrive from their flight.

I see the notes I made while at Disney on the next pages in the memo book, but that will be another story for another time. I will leave with just a little hint of what it will be about, best summed up by the three year old grandson's comment, "I love the whole wide Disney!"

© 2015 NoelHC