Did you just call me a bookworm?

Last week, I posted photos of my dream reading room. Today, the daily post’s writing challenge is “A  genie has granted your wish to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?” Weird coincidence. It’s like they read my mind. Or maybe my blog post.

My perfect reading space would be in an attic. Not a musty, dusty, scary attic. No, a light, airy, lofty space with windows in the sloping roof. The floor would be creaky, the walls white and covered in bookshelves. There would be a fireplace or a wood stove for chilly winter days. In the center of the room, there is one chaise longue, preferably pink. Really, my reading bubble would have all my books in one place and it would be all mine, secret and special.

Right now, I have books everywhere. That works too. I love books, not just reading. They’re my decor. They are me and I am them. They’re taking over, and I’m letting them.

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Yes, that is a My Little Poney. She’s mine, so I guess you could say she’s vintage, because she’s kind of old now. Her name is Apple Jacks.

I enjoy buying books almost as much as I do reading them. Sometimes, I buy more than I can read. Right now, I have a few books in my to read pile. Ok, more than a few. This is just a fraction of them. People give me books too, so it’s not all my fault. Well, ok, mostly it’s my fault.

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The title of this post is something I said to my friend Jen not too long ago. Her reply? No, but I wish I did! It’s ok, I know I am.

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Dream a little dream

The girl looked to her left and to her right, but there was nothing. All she could see were the three doors in front of her. One was icy blue, with white, lacy-looking frost covering it from top to bottom. One was red, with a gold handle that seemed to glow. The last door looked quite ordinary. It was made of wood and iron, and it had no decorations.

The girl knew she had to open one door to see what was behind it. How she knew this, she had no clue. She had to chose a door. The weight of this decision hung heavily over her head, like a little black raincloud. She reached for the blue door, but pulled her hand away quickly when she felt the heat behind it. She went slowly to the red door and placed her hand gently on the golden handle. The cold was so intense, it felt like a burn. Feeling like Goldilocks, she went to the boring door, turned the door knob and pushed open the door.

What she saw took her breath away. The rainbow was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen. It arched through the sky like one of Saturn’s rings and ended just above her head. “Where’s the pot of gold?” she asked. She didn’t expect an answer, for she imagined herself to be all alone. “That pot of gold stuff is just for fairy tales” she heard a voice respond. “It makes no sense, why would there be gold at the end of a rainbow?”

“Who said that?” she asked.

“I did!” said the voice. “Down here” it added, when the girl looked around but could not see anyone.

“Oh! You’re a frog.”

“Yes, I am. And no more of that gold nonsense. Everybody knows that rainbows end in ribbons.”

The girl did not know this, but she didn’t want to tell the talking frog that. She looked up and indeed, the rainbow ended in a cascade of silky ribbons of every colour imaginable. She reached up to touch them, then looked at the frog to see if this was allowed. The frog smiled (yes, frogs can smile) and nodded.

The girl wrapped her hands around the ribbons and felt herself being pulled up. She held on tight, then let her head fall back. Suddenly, her world was turned upside down. Nothing was the way she thought it was. She played around with the ribbons for a while, enjoying the way her view of the world changed with every twist and turn.

Eventually, she let go of the ribbons and slowly, the rainbow disappeared. The frog told her it had served it’s purpose and would return when it was needed. The girl did not understand what that purpose was, but she had enjoyed herself, so she was happy.

She and the frog walked together until they came to a fork in the road. One path was straight, going as far as the eye could see. It had soft grass and big trees on either side, offering shade and the pleasent scent of apple blossoms. The other path was a zig-zag through a field of wildflowers and big rocks. It disappered into the horizon, so the girl could only see the begining. She could make out a puddle in the middle of the sandy path, and what looked like a tree with purple flowers.

Like when she stood before the doors, she know she must chose a path. The first path was beautiful and safe. The second path looked like it might be filled with surprises. Good or bad, she did not know. The girl looked down at the frog and asked for advice.

“The choice is yours,” said the frog. “But remember, our choices define who we are. Who are you? Or, more important, who do you wish to be?”

The girl looked at the paths again and realized she could be someone who chose the safe option. It was pretty and she was sure to enjoy herself, although she thought she might get bored. When she looked at the second path, she saw adventures waiting to happen, challenges to overcome and discoveries to make. She wanted to be the person who embraced the unexpected, not accept the expected.

She walked along the crooked path with the frog for a while, until they came to a moutain made of glass. It rose from the ground before them and seemed to go all the way up into the sky.

“What now?” she asked the frog.

“That’s up to you, isn’t it.” replied to frog.

The girl thought the frog was beginging to sound a little too much like Yoda, but before she could reply, the frog sneezed.

“Bless you.” said the girl.

“Thank you. But it is you who is blessed. You have everything you need to overcome any obstacle, you need me no longer. This is a magical place, and we do not let everybody in. You passed the tests. You are ready.”

“What tests? What am I ready for?” asked the girl, unaware that she was being tested.

“Life is the test. The rainbow is happiness. You embraced it, you enjoyed it. You didn’t question it or doubt it. The choice between the paths represents the choices you make every day. You chose excitement and adventure. You are ready to face the glass mountain. Knowing how to be happy and trying new things makes you prepared to overcome the obstacles in your path. Life is a series of rainbows, paths and glass mountains. You are strong. You are ready.”

And the frog hopped off into the sunset.

The girl sat up in her bed. She looked around, but didn’t see a frog or a rainbow. She laughed softly. Of course she didn’t. It had all been a dream. Or had it?

I started writing this post a while ago, when I saw the daily prompt “You’re having a nightmare, and have to choose between three doors. Pick one, and tell us about what you find on the other side.” I was intrigued, and I thought about it for a while before I started writing. I knew I didn’t want it to be a nightmare, and I wanted to include the aerial silks workshop I did last February. It’s a prompt from December 20th, so I got the “daily” part wrong, but I’m happy with the way it turned out. It’s very different from what I normally write, and it was a lot harder to get out!

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Every day is the best day of the year

This past year has been filled with so many wonderful experiences and memories. I’ve started this blog and tried new things. I’ve met new people, lost good people and held many babies. I’ve played in the snow, the ocean and the forest. I have tried, although it was not always easy, to enjoy each and every moment life has given me. Here is my year in photos.

January

January

February

February

March

March

April

April

May

May

June

June

July

July

August

August

September

September

October

October

November

November

December

December

I was inspired by this week’s photo challenge, which was “My 2012 in photos”. The suggestion was to use one photo per month, but that was impossible! There were so many wonderful moments to share, 12 photos would never have been enough. Even with all these pictures, I feel like there are important moments missing. It’s just a snapshot of my life. I’m happy I take so many pictures!

I wish I were a pink flamingo

For some reason, we all wish we were something we’re not. When it becomes “I wish I were skinnier/richer/more like her/less like this” it’s not good. But when you let your imagination run away with “I wish I were…” it can be quite interesting to see what comes up.

I wish I were in Hawaii so I could do the hula. Grass skirts. Coconuts. Need I say more?

I wish I were a superhero so I could fly to the yoga studio instead of driving. Also, I would like those claw-things like Wolverine. And I would be indestructable like the cheerleader in Heros, or like Hancock. No sense being a superhero if you can’t have it all. And a cape, I want a cape. A pink one. With sparkles.

I wish I were a book. I love books. Think of all the wonderful things people say about books. Amazing! Beautiful! Interesting! Well written! ok, maybe that last one doesn’t work.

I wish I were a pink flamingo. They’re pink. They are graceful and look like tightrope walkers. They live in groups of pinkness and they eat lots of shrimp. I don’t like shrimp, but maybe I could be a vegetarian flamingo and eat pink cupcakes and pink peanut butter or something?

I wish I were seven years old. Children have so much imagination. They make up animals and create worlds where fairies and birds talk to each other. They write pages and pages of stories like “The adventures of Manon the giraffe” (that’s me). They don’t have writer’s block, they have ideas by the dozen.

I wish I were a giraffe. They’re my most favourite animal ever. They’re so unique and they never need to ask for help to get something off the top shelf. They have a blue tongue. And horns. So cool.

I wish I were a cake tester at the bakery. This needs no explanation.

I wish I were an astronaut. I could drink Tang and eat freeze dried spaghetti. Plus, imagine how much more effective wishing on a star would be. I wonder if astronauts get everything they wish for?

I wish I were a cloud. People see different shapes when they look at you. You block out the sun on a hot day. You’re always different. You have so many cool names like cummulus and snuffulaffagus. And, Care Bears!

This post was written in response to the weekly writing challenge at WordPress.com. This week’s prompt was I wish I were…

What do you wish you were?