Showing posts with label sunshine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sunshine. Show all posts

Monday, May 2, 2022

Spring Has Sprung

 








Or so they say. You couldn't prove it by Ohioans. We've had the craziest weather. Up and down, up and down, snow, rain, and sunshine. Typical weather for April, with promises of warm weather to come.

It seems like Mother Nature likes to tease us. She'll give us temps and sunshine in the 70s for a few days, then drop us back down to the 30s. Last week we had two days in the 80s, absolutely beautiful weather. Even the 40s and 50s feel cold after those days. Dropping us into the 30s was just downright cruel. 

Fortunately, Ohioans are resilient and we roll with the flow, for the most part. That doesn't mean we don't complain. Ha, far from it. And in a couple of months, we're going to complain it's too hot. Seems like we're not happy unless we complain. 

All in all, we haven't had that bad of a winter, at least not to my memory (which isn't what it used to be). A few bitterly cold days in January - to be expected, and not that much snow. Okay, we had two good snowstorms of six inches or more, and they came one right after the other. But that was about it for snow, at least shovable snow. To me, that's a pretty mild winter. 

Anytime I'm not afraid to drive is good for me. I'm not a big fan of driving, don't like driving in the rain, hate driving in the snow or ice and driving at night in either or is the pitts. Nope, I don't like to drive. Now, don't get me wrong, there are days I'm fine with it. Sunny warm days with no traffic like early Sunday morning on the way to church, or after morning rush hour on the way to Bible Study. Not crazy about driving at night at all, so these longer days work great for me. Wintertime, I won't drive at night, the headlights on other cars are horrible, especially those new headlights. I discovered a long time ago, if you wear sunglasses while driving at night, it does help. But I still don't like it. 

So, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Spring has sprung and in few weeks, we'll really feel the benefits of it, at least we will if it doesn't become summer before we've had a chance to enjoy spring, which also happens a lot in Ohio. Not that I'd live any place else. Nope, I'm Ohio born, and in Ohio I shall die. Hmmm, that almost makes me sound a little like Aunt Beatrice Lulu. If you'd like to know more about her check out the Family Affair Series at BWL Publishing

Oh, and by the way, Aunt Beatrice Lulu remains in hiding, as do my other characters.  I do have a couple of ideas for the story, but the ending still eludes me, without that I can't fill in the middle. If anyone has any ideas let me know.either by email or in the comments below. If I use your idea, I'll mention you as a character in my book (with your permission, of course).  (email address is: rodow62 at yahoo dot com. 

The work in progress started out with Beatrice Lulu's sister, Ethel telling the story, Well which didn't sit too well with ABLL (that's what I call her when I talk about her). No one was going to take over her story. So, she took over and then she shut down. Probably paying me back for trying to let Ethel be the main character. I have a few ideas for things that go wrong for her because we all know everything goes wrong for ABLL, she's always getting into trouble. Nothing big of course, because that's where my problem comes in, she won't tell me what her next big adventure is and how she gets out of it. 


Thursday, March 14, 2019

The Past was a different place...by Sheila Claydon



Hello from Tenerife.
While the UK suffers from low temperatures and biting winds I’m spending time in the sunny Canary Islands where a cloudy day is an event to be commented upon.  In the past I’ve always thought of the islands as a place to truly relax and recharge one’s batteries but my goodness how things have changed. When I first visited this part of the Tenerife coast, more than 25 years ago, it was a tiny fishing village with a couple of weathered shacks on the dusty road opposite the shingle beach. Sitting on rickety chairs we enjoyed meals of grilled squid and salty Canarian potatoes or a paella full of mussels and prawns, all washed down with a light wine or, more often, with Sangria, the true flavour of  these islands. In front of us would be upturned boats spread with drying fishing nets, while across from us sunburned fishermen would smoke and drink before taking to the seas again.

We reached the village by climbing up and over a long hill of scrub interspersed with spiny cacti and tiny pink flowers whose name I never learned, and by the time we sank gratefully into those rickety chairs our sandals would be thick with the yellow dust of the roadside. Now, to get there, we have to drive on smooth black roads through a convoluted mass of one way systems, roundabouts and traffic signals and then circle endlessly looking for somewhere to park our car. There isn’t a single space in the row upon row of parked cars at every kerbside but we eventually find an underground carpark. It leads up into a mall full of shops with the designer names that can be seen in every town, city and airport in most parts of the world.

Eventually we find the sea and the imported yellow sands that now cover the small expanse of shingle from yesteryear and spread out far beyond it. The weathered shacks have long gone of course, and in their place is a long promenade lined with every sort of eaterie, each offering a plethora of choices. Tapas, steak and fries, pizza, full English breakfast, pasta, hot dogs, beef burgers, ice cream, pastries, beer , wine.....food and drink from many cultures and to suit many tastes. Only the sangria remains a constant. And the sunhats we buy from a stall run by a smiling islander have the inevitable ‘made in China’ label.

When we finally choose a place to eat it isn’t so bad. Our table is on a sheltered terrace with a view of the sea and here they still serve grilled squid although not as we remember it. Less succulent with few vegetables it is nevertheless a taste from the past as are the tiny wrinkled potatoes. There is nothing else left of the past though, and as we look up at the hotels and holiday apartments rising in tier upon tier above us up the steep cliffs of the island, we wonder. Is this the price of success...people crowded out of their own villages as more and more tourists fly to the sunshine. We have met people from Germany, France, Finland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Holland,  Belgium, Ireland,Wales, Scotland, every part of England, Australia, Vietnam and America, all in the space of a few days, on a tiny rock of an islaand 600 miles off the coast of Morocco.  It’s enough to make the head whirl!

Is it a good thing, this development of sun soaked islands for the mass of tourists who want the sun?Is it right that a tiny, barely inhabited village has been turned into a centre of holiday hedonism?Who am I to say because, while I far prefer the tiny village and the roadside shack, maybe the residents don’t. They may well feel that with tourism making more than a 60% contribution to the island’s economy it’s a change worth making. I certainly hope so.

Before Books We Love began to publish my books I wrote another one that was based in Tenerife...a Tenerife halfway between what it once was and what it is now. It was my first attempt at writing about places I’d visited and it’s success led me to do it again, and again. Reluctant Date is one of those books, set in a tiny Key in the Gulf of Mexico, one of my favourite places in all the world, and one I’m afraid to visit again in case it too has changed.

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