Being inspired, maybe – 39

-
A picture paints ... well, as many words as you like.  For instance:



And, then, the words:
I don't think I'd ever actually seen a real castle made out of ice.  I'd heard about ice castles, ice hotels, ice bars, one of which was near the ice castle at the hotel we were staying for several days.
No surprise the castle lasted the whole of winter because right now, it was 21 degrees below zero.
Beyond the castle was the lake, also frozen solid, and was awaiting the more adventurous of the group, what the guide called 'going on the Scott experience'.
All it needed, he added, was a storm, with snow, icicles and gale force winds.
Right.
What idiot would prefer to be there than inside the hotel eating, drinking and being merry?
I guess I didn't have a choice.

 My daughter, a wise and erudite 40ish herself, told me I was going through a change of life, one, apparently I missed when I turned 40.
Either that or I was going mad.
Why else, she asked, would I 'take up' with a woman younger than her.  
It was not as if I was married and having an affair.  It was just Genevieve came along and she dragged me out of the doldrums of approaching old age and gave me a new lease on life.
My daughter thought she was a gold digger.  She probably was, but the gold mine wasn't all that rich.  My son was just disappointed.  She was going to spend what little inheritance there was left.
From the outside looking in and judging from some of the looks I got at the hotel, the last place I expected to be judged, it was probably a correct assumption.
But, Genevieve, was nothing like that.  Genevieve was my first daughter, from when I went out briefly with what I thought was 'the one'.
It didn't work out.
But...
She had a daughter, mine, and didn't tell me about her.  How did I find out, after her mother died she was given a letter.  Find your father, or not, the choice was hers.
She found me.

 How did we get here?
She had never seen snow.  I'd never been to the Canadian Rockies, and here we were.
On a sled, ready to head out into the great unknown.  I was not sure the blanket we were given would be of any use keeping out the cold.
One thing I did know, there was no containing the joy of the girl sitting next to me.
People could think what they like, I wasn't going to set them straight.
For a short while, at least, people were, at last, noticing me.

 © Charles Heath 2019

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Being inspired, maybe – 57

-
Image
A picture paints ... well, as many words as you like.  For instance: And, then, the words: I had a lot to think about. It was one of the main reasons why I chose a relatively remote resort to get away from the pressures and distractions of everyday life. You see, I just got made redundant from a job that I thought was mine for life, and with it came a litany of platitudes and half-truths and downright lies from a hatchet man, rather than the person who should have faced me. The point is, the owner of the company I worked for was someone I had respected.  We had started out together, not as partners, but as close to having a partnership as was possible. My only problem at the time was I didn't have the money to put up, so we had an agreement. An agreement, it appears, that was not worth anything because it was not in writing.  It had been a verbal agreement on a handshake, at a time when that meant something. Now, apparently, it didn't. There was of
Read more

I've always wanted to go on a Treasure Hunt - Part 32

-
Here’s the thing... Every time I close my eyes, I see something different. I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox. But these dreams are nothing to laugh about. Once again there's a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt. The scene was set. Boggs and I had been browbeaten, and he had, willingly he said, given up the real map.  I was beginning to think Boggs had no idea what the real map was, there were so many different variations of it. Vince was on the warpath. Nadia was muddying the waters. The Benderby’s were being their usual menacing selves. A man had been killed and finished up being on Rico’s boat, and Rico had been arrested.  Had Benderby put it there, or was Rico the perpetrator?     Rico wanted the map for the Benderby’s but hadn’t got it from Boggs, which given how menacing he was, should have been a no brainer. Unless he really cared ab
Read more

Being Inspired, maybe - 70

-
Image
A picture paints ... well, as many words as you like.  For instance: And, then, the words: I'd heard about the Worthington gardens, everyone had, they'd been featured in the press, magazines and on television.  I never thought I'd get to personally see them, in this lifetime or any other, but there i was, standing in the threshold of a whole new world. But, you ask, how did I get here? That is a story in itself, so you will have to bear with me while I give you some background, and maybe then you will understand what I did not. It was a bad week at the office. Literally. I'd been at loggerheads with both my father, and my older brother, Joseph Taylor Jr., the heir apparent, and lost. And it was a bad loss, one that was going to cost 200 jobs and get a lot of bad press.  I had tried my hardest, painstakingly crunched the numbers to show we could make a profit, but enough to keep it going. Apparently, that didn't matter, the heir apparen
Read more