Welcome WINDSONG BLONDELLE PHOENIX better known as Blondie, our new Companion fur baby. She will never replace my unique Quetzal, who remains irreplaceable and I’m still mourning her. Blondie is full of energy and tries so hard to play with Treeky. But the old man only wants to bark and bark. As for this old man, I’d love our new fur baby to share my bed – without stepping on my catheter – but the three times she’s been on the bed, her visits have been brief. She prefers getting Juanita’s attention by chewing her shoes. Luckily new toys are on order.
2. One minor problem is chewing through my computer cable, which left me unable to check my emails, write this post until Tuesday, or keep up to date on Ukraine. So, I’m being briefer than usual.
3. Health continues to plague me. I’m meant to be going on respite at the end of the month so Juanita and the dogs can go camping. Should be interesting… if I can take my laptop to write.
For now, Ukraine is still one of my two writing priorities. As I’ve said a few times, I will continue my Ukraine stories until a just peace is reached and the reconstruction has begun. The next episode is due around August 16th to 18th 2023.
Every month, IWSG announces a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience, or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something to say.
July 5 question – 99% of my story ideas come from dreams. Where do yours predominantly come from?
Remember, the question is optional!
I must be brief this month, but I can start by saying as a teenager and in my twenties, dreams were often my inspiration.
But that gradually changed to echoing real-life events as with my two current projects. My Snowdon Shadows police procedural series reflects Welsh issues with touches of the history and folklore. Likewise, my Ukraine Night Witches historical shorts are fiction set against ongoing events… not forgetting the initial short echoing the Firebird legend.
I’ve even used Norse mythology for some WEP/IWSG flash shorts.
Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG.
Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time – and return comments. This group is all about connecting!
Our beautiful Cavachon fur-baby Quetzal was born on February 13th, 2014, in Garndolbenmaen, North Wales, U.K.
I had already seen photographs of her parents and some siblings but knew my choice. So, when Juanita brought her out to show me, it was ‘love at first cuddle’.
Although the breeder’s son called her ‘Curly Sue’, we chose the name Quetzal after a game which Juanita was playing ‘Quetzal Quest’ about the search for a jewel likeness of the exotic Quetzal bird, whose feathers were prized by the Central American natives.
Likewise, we prized our gorgeous fur-baby, who has left us with a wealth of memories, from dashing around in the rain, to trying to catch squirrels. When she was a puppy, she liked to climb via my lap, onto my desk between the keyboard and my monitor. However, one of our cats loved this spot as well, so, every day became a race for this prime location. Fortunately, my lap was almost as good… and came with a stroking bonus.
Over time, Quetzal outgrew the desk. Plus, she had a new privilege: walking in the forest at the mountain biking centre, where she was treated to a venison burger – yes, dogs were allowed in the cafeteria.
Her other sport was chasing tennis balls… inside… and destroying them. By now, we had our second dog, Treeky. We also replaced tennis balls with rubber ‘kongs’ that fooled both dogs by bouncing erratically.
When we moved to America, Quetzal & Treeky travelled in style on the liner Queen Mary II, with two Kennel Masters for all the dogs, and a Poop Deck for walks with a UK lamppost and US fire hydrant.
Sadly, as my health declined and I became bed-bound, I could no longer walk Quetzal. She could though, use steps to climb onto my bed and snuggle. Most nights she slept cuddled on or beside me.
I won’t forget her squeezing herself between me and my bed-desk to reach me and curl up. Every time I was trying to eat, she would bob and weave behind the desk to get tidbits, or a hopeful face would appear from under the desk.
Last photo of Quetzal sharing love and attention
An adorable face I will never forget, to infinity and beyond.
Our house is still in chaos, although my wife’s son and his girlfriend move out next week. So, then our office will get set up, and I can stop writing one-fingered on a laptop barely in reach. The flash-drive with my current novel did appear, but revision is postponed until the office makes writing easier.
My health is declining, but we have hopefully found a way to afford care using insurance and a family trust. My brother, who controls the purse strings visiti on Sunday – my 69th birthday – so I’ll have to behave 😉
However, I must reassure the Ninja Captain, Alex J. Cavanaugh that this announcement is not ‘ffarwel’.
Anyway IWSG.Remember, the question is optional!
August 3 question – When you set out to write a story, do you try to be more original, or do you try to give readers what they want?
Initially my stories are original in inspiration, even if there’s a prompt, as with the WEP/IWSG Challenges.
However, there comes a point where the favourable responses mean re-visiting places and characters. That’s why I keep writing my Snowdon Shadows stories set in North Wales and starring Sparkle & Kama.
Do my Ukrainian stories fit this pattern? Originally written to an IWSG Anthology prompt, continued due to the current war, I’m now working on one for the next WEP/IWSG Challenge as readers wanted to know what happens next.
Good question, which real events will decide.
Slava Ukrayini.
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Finally, don’t forget to visit more active writers via the IWSG site:
Our move has proved a nightmare with no disabled features to the house like wide doors or wheelchair ramp, a low toilet I have to be transferred onto by a trained carer, plus weeks without internet. My desktop is still in storage as no office imminent, so I’m writing this one-fingered on a laptop barely in reach.
And the new wheelchair keeps dying on me at inconvenient moments.
The flash-drive with my current novel went AWOL during the move, and other backups are proving elusive.
My health is suffering and paying for carers will cripple us… unless my brother acts out of character.
However, I must reassure the Ninja Captain, Alex J. Cavanaugh that this announcement is not ‘ffarwel’.
Anyway IWSG.Remember, the question is optional!
July 6 question – If you could live in any book world, which one would you choose?
A few come to mind from Narnia to Earthsea to a galaxy far, far away. But as Tolkien is my early writing inspiration, I choose Middle Earth… well, a safer region, The Shire.
Is that my yearning for rural England on which The Shire was modelled? Home?
Except my heart is in North Wales, where my Sparkle stories are set. Can I live there, please?
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Finally, don’t forget to visit more active writers via the IWSG site:
I feared my entry for this month’s WEP/IWSG Challenge would be too late, but then as I wrote this short piece, I realised I had to post today. The reason might become relevant on reading the last scene. As for the theme, I found a Welsh element to tie elements together for Sparkle and Kama.
This 2021 Year of the Art theme has provoked some interesting thoughts – and trips down rabbit holes.
Although this year’s posts are not another ongoing case for Sparkle Anwyl and Kama Pillai of the North Wales Police, I’ve attempted something else involving them. So, once more I’m going down the stand-alone path with my dynamic Welsh duo.
But this time, I’ve tried a change of genre – well, perhaps. Also, this is a response to my editor pointing out an oversight in my Fevered Fuse novel – the lack of personal growth.
As always, apologies if I’m slow to respond or slow to visit your posts.
Plus, ensure you visit all the other writers in this challenge via:
Uplifted by daffodils, two women affirm their love and pledge to fight for human rights.
MIRRORED PRIDE
2016
Saturday, 10th December
I stare at the unfamiliar reflection and wince. Pain comes with the job,but I can’t go out like this – not to celebrate.
Stupid. Some guys never give up easily – even cuffed.
Does it matter how I look? I purse my lips. Perhaps. I’m not vain, but tonight is special.
I reach for the makeup bag. Should I use some yellow concealer to hide my black eye? The icepack helped, but it’s still obvious. People might jump to the wrong conclusion. Abusive partner.
My fingers touch the slash on my cheek. Is a scar a turn off or a mark of courage?
Will Kama care? My whisper echoes round our bedroom.
“Of course not, cariad.” Kama replies in the doorway. I swivel and smile as she walks over, then kisses me softly. “You’re beautiful whatever happens.”
Then she sits down beside me at the vanity table.She traces the cut, then my nose. “At least, he didn’t break your mischievous feature.” She continues caressing my face.
The perfect excuse for my own daring exploration for hidden pleasure.
“Leave something for later. We need to get dressed up not down. After dinner antics are best.”
“Haven’t we always eaten first.” I slow my teasing hands, then add, “We never break the rules.”
“Except speeding on our bikes. That’s an unbroken addiction.”
Motorbikes brought us together nearly five years earlier – as did crime and our first case together.
I let our lips meet, and I enjoy the taste of minty cardamom. Long and lingering, and then I ask, “Do you ever regret the life we lead?”
“Never. I’m proud to be your partner. Both as a wife and a cop. You have doubts?”
“No longer, chellam. I admit my heart has wavered – doubt can be a mischievous trickster – was once. But we’ve proved ourselves as women, as lovers, and as crime busters.”
Kama clasps my hands. “Now we can be open with our pride, despite the risks.”
“Risk is our adrenaline and will be forever. And there are tests ahead, but we have each other. Still, I’m covering up these blemishes before we go out.”
“The table is booked for eight so I can pamper myself too. And then I’ve a present for us downstairs. Seasonal light for the cottage.”
A floral feast fills our front room. Dozens of displays of daffodils, not yellow but white blooms.
Kama beams with the flowers. “It may be eleven weeks until St David’s Day on March 1st, but why wait until our Welsh National Holiday?”
“Paperwhites – I love these daffodils. Perfect Christmas light bringers.”
“And I bought some bulbs to plant for the Spring as well. Plus, I added some which might flower on New Year’s Day. Those bring good fortune according to Chinese legend.”
“A bonus – even if having each other is our valuable destiny already.”
“I’ll echo that sentiment, cariad.”
***
We arrive on time at the Italian trattoria to celebrate and ‘Stand up for someone’s rights’ on a day when we are lucky to be in Wales.
When our cocktails arrive, I toast all those who fight for justice. “Not just on Human Rights Day but at every moment, chellam.”
“And together, we can take a stand for more humanity.”
On the wall behind, the face of Caravaggio’s Narcissus looks down through his pool of water at us and the vase of paperwhites on our table.
My apologies for the late appearance of Post IV in this year’s WEP/IWSG challenge – the Year of the Art. My first Covid-19 vaccine knocked me sideways and I’m still recovering – and dreading the second one.
Although this year’s posts are not another ongoing case for Sparkle Anwyl and Kama Pillai of the North Wales Police, I’ve attempted something else involving them.
So, once more I’m going down the stand-alone path with my dynamic Welsh duo.
As always, apologies if I’m slow to respond or slow to visit your posts.
Plus, ensure you visit all the other writers in this challenge via:
This shadow is ideal. Perfect for surveillance without drawing attention to ourselves.
Jeans, sweatshirts, and suede jackets ensure Kama and I merge into the crowd gathered in the hall.
The debate has been civil, although the candidates have all made it clear where they stand on Europe.
In versus out. Vocal arguments with tinges of indecision.
But no sign of the anticipated public order threats – yet.
A smartly dressed man in a pale suit smiles at the gathering, pleads with weaving gestures. “We’re British, we’re not European. One language ensures we remain the United Kingdom. Do you want to be ruled by other nations? Forced to speak other languages? We must reject their unjust directives.”
The Green candidate appeals for calm as several people shout from the audience, pointing at the outspoken man.
I turn to Kama. “He’s deliberately provoking us – the Welsh.”
“He’s the intended target – supposedly. Watch for trouble. He’s setting himself up for attacks.”
Two young women leap up, dressed in our norm of black leathers, and shout – in Welsh. “You’re the invader forcing us to accept your rule – talk your language.”
“Speak English, please, not your foreign gibberish. Nobody can understand you. We don’t have translators here like the European Parliament.”
Another candidate, the woman from Plaid Cymru stands and asks first in Welsh. “Stand if you understood these sisters.” Then as almost everyone stands, she adds in English. “Our Brexit colleague has the right of free speech…” She pauses, then continues, “But not the right to claim his language should dominate us. Cenedl heb iaith, cenedl heb galon.”
“My apologies. However, isn’t the law upheld in English. What do my seated friends say?”
Before Kama or I can correct his legal presumption as officers who caution bi-lingually, some seated guys leap to their feet.
They mask their faces as they throw projectiles at the dais and into the crowd.
Flour bombs explode.
“Not just flour.” I choke as Kama shoves a scarf on my mouth.
“Tear gas. We need to protect the bigot.”
“Unless he planned this evening.” Blinded by flour and tears,we stumble towards the platform.
No sign of the candidate. Abducted or scarpered?
We keep searching amidst the confusion. No sign of him or the masked bombers.
Image: Bert Kaufmann/Adam Walker
Monday, 12th May
A bolt hole for a scared politician? Or for a devious one?
But the campaign office echoes others I’ve seen. Diligent drones. Harassed helpers. Flyers and posters everywhere. Clicking keyboards.
“Morning officer. Have you arrested those protesters? The ones trying to challenge my freedom of speech?” The instigator ignores my initial attempt to reply and ploughs on. “Flour bombs and tear gas are offensive weapons—”
“We have a couple of protestors in custody.”
He smiles, continuing to ignore the plain clothes officer beside me – Kama. Did he see us at the meeting – together? And standing with the other Welsh speakers? Obviously not.
“Is this one of them? Come to apologise?”
Kama produces her warrant card. “I was hoping you could answer a few questions as I’m leading the investigation. Provoking unlawful violence is a serious offence under the 1986 Public Order Act. A person guilty of such an offence could face imprisonment for six months or a hefty fine. Shall we talk here or have you a separate office, please?”
His demeanour and voice waver. “Well, um… You’d better follow me…officers. Anything to help…resolve any misunderstanding.”
His office is spacious and uncluttered, except for the electoral material promoting his attempt at election in ten days.
He sits behind his desk, waving us to the seats on the other side.
The desk is meant to be formidable and intimidating. But Kama has dented his defences already.
“Those hooligans misunderstood. I have the right to say what I believe – as do they. But throwing an offensive missile must be a crime—”
“As is orchestrating this event. The statements from your supporters make it clear what you intended—”
“My supporters? You must be mistaken. Those were Welsh Nationalists – they deliberately attacked me. My human rights were violated, as they have been throughout this campaign. Abuse, slander, and lies.”
Kama smiles, then turns to me. “Did the flour bombers speak any Welsh, PC Anwyl?”
“Only a few badly constructed and pronounced curses. But they declared their allegiance to a British nationalist cause – like yours, sir.” Then, I give him the statutory caution and warning against further incitement to violence and electoral fraud, adding, “Or we will be obliged to report you to the relevant European authorities.”
He leans forward, but his threatening gesture is empty. “I don’t recognise that authority, but I will prove the people are on my side at the polls. Trust me. Thank you, ladies.”
Dismissed, we stand, satisfied the press coverage of the incident will undermine his chances.
As we leave his bolt hole, I notice a framed print on his wall. Norman Rockwell’s famous “Freedom of Speech” painting. I point at the print, then turn back towards our English fanatic.
“Free Speech – a right none of us should abuse. And to close the debate, I’ll add, Cenedl heb iaith, cenedl heb galon – meaning, ‘A nation without language is a nation without heart’. Remember that.”
The ‘Freedom of Speech’ prompt triggered thoughts about political hustings in England and Wales as I was involved on the fringes of politics for decades.
As I said in my last WEP/IWSG Challenge post, conservation and environmental threats have concerned me for decades – peace issues included. I was a member of the Green Party for years, involved in various elections – once as a candidate – and worked with Green politicians in other countries, including some elected members of parliaments (Mps and MEPs).
In this fictional scenario, I envisaged the provocative right-wing candidate losing – and in reality, the most extreme candidates did lose. But sadly, in my opinion, Britain later left the European Union. Although green in my beliefs, I voted in 2014 for the Plaid candidate, Jill Evans as she was an effective MEP and an active member of the Green / European Free Alliance (EFA) Group.
Writing Wings 