Tag Archives: Cinderella

Daily Prompt; The Interview

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Oliver Herford illustrated the fairy godmother...

http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Post

Interview your favorite fictional character.

Me; Now I know from my own childhood that you are a wonderful person to dream about at nights, can you explain why this is so?

Her; Well, I have been around for many years. People and adults see something in me that they wish for their very own.

Me; And what would that be, can you be more specific.

Her; Well we all want life to be happy and peaceful. When people look at me and hear my voice, they become instantly happy.

Me; What is it that children and adults see in you that are the same?

Her; My voice is probably my biggest asset. It is soft-spoken. My tone comes across as caring and delightful. It is not a high-pitched voice, so when children hear me, they seem to relate very easily. When adults are having rough patches in their day, my voice becomes soothing for them. I believe it takes them back in time to a more joyous day.

Me; In today’s world, fashion makes a big statement. Your clothes never seem to fade away. In fact, anytime I have seen you, your clothing is always the change. How can that be?

Her; I symbolize softness, purity, trust and love. It is the ingredients to a happy soul. Safe and secure is something we all crave, even more as we age. Why change something that works for the name of fashion? When people look at my dress, they quickly recognize me. There are no doubts that I am no one other than who I always was.

Me; That is a beautiful quality, and I love your statement. One of my final questions is, how do you stay so trim and who does your hair?

Her; (giggling) Oh that is easy enough to answer. I use only natural ingredients in my foods that I eat. I would never consider eating anything that came out of a box. I omit salt, and I make everything myself. I try very hard to incorporate a color of the rainbow in each day’s menu. As far as my hair? That is the easiest of all. I just wave my magic wand over my head and sprinkles of fairy dust fall in place holding each of my locks for the entire day.

Me; Well this certainly has been the most delightful interview I have done in some time. I want to thank-you for being my special guest today. You realize the world is growing by leaps and bounds. Would you care to let the babes know your name so they can carry the same feelings we all have done for so many years?

Her; Well certainly my dear. I am no other than your Fairy Godmother.

 

 

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My Birthday Dream

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birthday cake

I had a dream last night. It wasn’t scary for a change. It was wonderful and you were all involved. In my dream I was puttering around my house when the door bell rang. It was a friend of mine that I don’t see too often.

I let her in and she glanced around and made the comment how my house always looked like I was expecting company. We both laughed over this as I am a neat and tidy gal. She looked at my clothing I was wearing and said, “This isn’t going to do. You need to go change.”

“Why, I am not going anywhere. I am not going to see Al until tomorrow?”

“Well today is a special day. Today is your birthday isn’t it?”

“No silly, you know my birthday is not until April 21st.”

“Well, too late now. For today we are going to pretend that today is your birthday. It is only a couple of weeks early.”

She and I laughed and agreed we were just getting senile in our old age. She pushed me towards my bedroom and we picked out a cute little pair of pants and shirt. She did my hair and I added a touch of make-up.

I felt like I was Cinderella getting ready to go to the ball. After I was presentable in her eyes she led me by the hand and took me outside. When I looked out over my yard I was so shocked I about passed out.

Every one of my friends from here at WP were hooting and hollering  Happy Birthday Terry. Oh my gosh. I didn’t know what to say. I had been dreading my birthday. I hadn’t spoken to anyone in real life about it coming up soon.

Birthdays were always a thing that I couldn’t wait to happen. My parents would have the extended family over for a small party. Mom made me a cake. When times were extra good she would order me a cake. Those were good days. I don’t remember getting a cake since Mom died in 2000.

Mom and Dad gave the best presents of all. Birthdays and Christmas Day were one day that they would always splurge on for us kids. Ideas that we had brought up through the year and talked about often were usually unwrapped in bright-colored papers and bows.The biggest gift I ever remember getting just off the top of my head was my piano.

Of course that couldn’t be wrapped. I will never forget one Christmas morning  during gift opening my Dad asked me to go feed the dog. I didn’t want to do that right now and voiced my thoughts to him. He told me to go ahead and they would wait for us.

I went out in to the family room and fed the dog and came back in and sat in my spot. I can remember my parents looking at each other not knowing what to do next. Dad sent me to the family room one more time to get something for him.

This time when I came back in I am sure my eyes were popping out of my head. This time I noticed the piano. I was thrilled, so excited, jumping and screaming with joy. I took lessons for seven years and played that piano every day until the house fire happened and destroyed the piano.

Anyways, back to the moment of my dream. There were tables lined up and the food choices were to die for. There was every type of fruit variety you could imagine. Cheese and cracker spread throughout.

There was a crystal punch bowl with pink liquid in it. Did someone spike this punch? I taste something different. Everyone laughed as they saluted my birthday. In the middle of the table sat the most beautiful cake. It was a two layered cake. It was virgin white with pastel colors of thick flowers surrounding all the edges.

They gathered around the cake and one of my friends sliced it and I got a too big of piece. I didn’t complain though. I tossed out my diet for this one day. I ate the flower first.

After we ate until we were bursting at the seams we moved down to the huge gift pile. I was floating on air from this entire event. No one knew about me getting older. No one realized that I was now 59 years old, but yet here in my own backyard, everyone knew it was my big day.

There were gifts of pretty stationary, new pens and pencils so I could write down new ideas that floated in my head. There were two packages of printer paper so I could continue to print off my new books.

I had made a comment at one time about my computer being five years old. Together everyone had chipped in and bought me a new computer. I went to each and every friend. I didn’t care if you were male or female. I hugged and kissed you on the cheeks.

It was the best dream I have had in months. All of you mean so much to me. You all know this. Not only in bad, sad and good times but even in my dreams.

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Let My Mind Forget Just For Today

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Little Red Riding Hood (1922 film)

Little Red Riding Hood (1922 film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For this moment let me be Peter Pan

Or maybe even Cinderella

For today let me be Sleeping Beauty

Let my mind forget  just for today.

For now let me be Snow White

Or maybe the Golden Goose

Let me be other than who I am

Let my mind forget  just for today.

If you don’t like these maybe you can vision

Me as Goldilocks from the three bears

Or Little Red Riding Hood

Let my mind forget  just for today.

I could be the Pied Piper and I could dance

Or maybe one of the Three Little Pigs

I just don’t want to remember now

Let my mind forget just for today.

A dancing Gingerbread Man

Or maybe Thumbelina

How about the Little Mermaid

Let my mind forget just for today.

Terry Shepherd

04/01/2013

 

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Liebster Award

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I met through Blog of the Year Award a very nice blogger named Valentina. She holds so much talent with Interior Design, I couldn’t help but follow her and dream as I read her posts and look at her photos.

 

Thank-you so much my friend over at;

 

http://valentinadesigns.wordpress.com/

 

In her words she says;

 

I am Valentina, interior designer by trade, fashion designer by dream, lover of food, in love with life and everything that gets my creative juices flowing. I publish one time a week.
It’s the good life!

 

pink liebster award

 

As with most awards there are rules, yes just like when we were in school and at our work.

 

We are to thank and link to the one who was gracious enough to nominate us.

 

Nominate 11 others and let them know of what you have done for them.

 

Answer these questions. Most of you know everything there is practically except my clothing size. LOL. But there are newer friends that barely know me. So will you try not to tap your foot and pick your nose while I go through this process again of ask and tell?

 

Questions;

 

What first inspired you to start writing a blog?

 

I was ignorant of blogging. I had a friend who passed through my life for a very short time, and he introduced me to blogging. I have been addicted ever since. This was in March of 2012

 

What is the biggest challenge you have had to face when writing a blog?

 

Hoping that people understand what I am trying to express. It is difficult to talk to others who don’t know me. I do not use big words. I am so plain and simple. I just ask God for his help and then start typing. If I can’t understand what I write, how can I expect you to understand a stranger’s words?

 

If you traveled through time, what time would you want to arrive at and why?

 

I would travel backwards and arrived five years ago on heaven’s doors. I would grab both of my parents and tell them how much I love them and have missed them while hugging them so tight.

 

However if I were to just pick one time in the past..

 

December 24th, 1999; this was the last time my family had Christmas with my parents and siblings.

 

Do you prefer to eat chocolate, sweets or neither?

 

I crave sweets like no other. The reason being is because the doctor diagnosed me with Diabetes. Of course I am still a child in my heart. I want what I can not have. So although I do cheat, shame on me, I would rather see no sweets at all.

 

Do you prefer to read or write?

 

If I have a book in my hand that the topic is dear to my heart, I can read it in two nights. Other wise I prefer to write to my heart’s content.

 

What is your favorite non-fiction topic to read about and why?

 

Anything that has to do with slavery. I love to read about how the slaves beat the whites and learned to read and write and free themselves to build their own lives with their children. I also love to read about anything to do with plantations of the south, slavery grounds, the Victorian era, and anything dealing with antiques

 

If you could buy one book that would help you solve a problem in your life, what would it be and why?

 

A Bible that has every problem that could ever happen and the verses right beside it that match the topic

 

Do you prefer to write at night or during the day?

 

I love to write so much and talk to my blogging friends that this is on my mind as a priority first thing in the morning. I actually write throughout the day and evening.

 

If you could be any character from a book, who would you be and why?

 

Cinderella. I still haven’t found a glass slipper that will fit my fat feet. I haven’t found a pumpkin I can squeeze myself into. I am too afraid of mice so when I see them I  high-tail it to another room screaming, and last but not least, I haven’t found my prince as of yet.

 

Do you prefer to read a printed book or an e-Book?

 

Definitely read a printed book. I don’t own a Kindle, can you believe this? I like the book in my hand with my over-head light on. The television on but turned down so I can tune in if I hear an interesting word. My two fluffy pillows holding my back in place and deep under my covers.

 

For my nominations of the beautiful, pink award I would like to pick, eenie meenie minee moe, I pick;

 

bluebutterfliesandme
bluebutterfliesandme.wordpress.com

 

FacetsofLucy
facetsoflucy.wordpress.com

 

Beyond Back Creek
backcreekdesign.com

 

The Laughing Housewife
thelaughinghousewife.wordpress.com x

 

Sheila Morris
redsrantsandraves.wordpress.com

 

playingthehandiwasdealt
playingthehandiwasdealt.wordpress.com

 

Alastair
kattermonran.wordpress.com

 

Ermilia
ermiliablog.wordpress.com

 

Books & Art – Spirit & Soul – Lesley Fletcher
inspirationimport.wordpress.com x
lesley@lesleyfletcher.com

 

TammyeHoney
TammyeHoney.wordpress.com

 

Maxim Sense
maxim061156.wordpress.com

 

becky6259
becky6259.wordpress.com

 

 

 

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It Was All She Had Dreamed About

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Cinderella jeans

She slipped down into the bubbles of water. The perfume entering her nose, leaving her feeling intoxicated. Tonight was a very special evening, her sweet 16 birthday party. Mama had taken her clothes shopping, and after going in and out of different stores, the two of them  came up on a small boutique, and once inside, they discovered a fabulous sale.

The dress was chosen, layers of taffeta, a light blue in color, matching the shade of her very own eyes. Mama had allowed her to buy her very first make-up items. Mascara, a light shade of eye shadow, and matching lipstick.

Now as she lay under the bubbles, she was dreaming about all of the guests that would be arriving in two hours. She had been dreaming of this moment, ever since her older sister had her own sweet 16 party. She, herself, had been allowed to attend the first fifteen minutes or so, and then was asked to disappear, letting the sister bask in the attention, and now it was her turn.

She gently washed each area of her skin, and scrubbed her face until it shone. Her hair was up in bobby pins so the water would not damage the great works the hairdresser had performed.

Family and friends and the special boy of her dreams would all be here. Last night she had hardly slept,due to the excitement running through her veins. She had helped her mama decorate the living room and the back porch. The kitchen shined from over cleaning. Banners were hung, and balloons had been blown up and dangled gently in the air.

As she rose from her bath, she looked at herself in the mirror as she was drying off. She was proud of who she was and how she looked. Mama had taught her to take good care of her skin and what foods to eat for nutrition and longevity.

She wrapped herself in her robe and letting the water out of the tub, she walked down the hall into her bedroom. Closing the door, she walked to her bed, and admired the dress she was about to put on. It was a treat to have something so beautiful to wear. She had her Sunday clothes for church, but nothing this beautiful ever hung in her closet.

She sat down at her vanity, and began to paint her toenails and her fingernails, in a matching color. Mama had gone all out for her. She had told her daughter about the memories that she had of her own sweet 16 party, and she wanted this to be a special night for her also, so mama had went the extra mile for all of the finishing touches.

After her nails had dried, she slipped on her dress, and twirled around in front of her mirror. She felt beautiful inside and out. She put on the matching ballet slippers and walking back to her vanity, she took the pins out of her hair. She shook her hair from side to side to fluff it out. Long gentle curls fell to her shoulders, giving the dress an extra soft look.

She grabbed her make-up and went to the kitchen where her family was bustling around trying to get last-minute details finished. Mama took one look at her daughter’s hands, and stopped what she was doing and she took her by the shoulders and guided her into her bedroom.

The daughter was not allowed in this room. This was mama and papa’s room, so she felt even more grown up that for this night, she was a princess, she was special . Mama sat her down on the bed, and put the make-up on the young face, explaining how to do it and to not use too much. The point was to make the beautiful face glow. Too much paint, and a harshness would tarnish the beauty. She watched her mama and thought that she could do it herself the next time.

It was time for the party, the doorbell was beginning to ring, guests were being welcomed in, and the music began to play. She was sitting in her room, with butterflies twitching in her stomach. Nerves were beginning to take over. She took a deep breath, and looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. This is your big night, my friend, leave the smile on and go enjoy your evening, she told herself.

As she entered the living room, camera lights were going off, and many compliments were being tossed her way about her dress and hair, and how grown up she looked wearing make-up. She felt like Cinderella going to the ball. It was all that she had dreamed about.

She mingled with each guest, and when the doorbell rang once again, her parents opened it to her boyfriend. He took one look at her and laid the gift down on the table that he had brought her, and walked straight to her, telling her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She thought her heart was going to bounce right out of her body. She loved him so much.

After everyone had arrived, the party took on a personality of its own. Laughter and conversations could be heard echoing through each room. The food tables looked wonderful, and her boyfriend brought her a plate and had gotten one for himself also.

The plates were filled with tiny sandwiches, cheeses, nuts, olives and crackers. She barely touched her plate, while she observed him having no problems eating his. After they were finished eating,the cake was cut and everyone gathered around her, and sang happy birthday to her. She was showered with gifts, and after opening each one, she said thank you  and passed around the gifts so that everyone could see what she had received.

When all packages had been opened, the music changed to more of a dance style. Nice and soft with a nice beat. One by one, people grabbed their partners, and the dancing began. Her boyfriend came up to her and asked if she would like to dance, and without saying a word, she let him lead her to the center of the room, where all eyes fell upon them.

She was not a good dancer, but neither was he, but all could see that they were enjoying themselves. The dancing went straight through to the end of the party. Some stopped dancing and went back to mingling with others, but she and he stayed glued to the music, hand in hand, step to step, she, leaning on his shoulder, and he, with a big smile.

As the party winded down, everyone pitched in to help straighten up a bit. Plates and glasses, and silverware, were all taken to the kitchen for cleaning. Wrapping papers were gathered and placed into a big garbage bag.

After all was semi clean, one by one started to leave, each saying what a wonderful time they had, and they were so glad that they could share in this special moment. As each one left, the room grew quieter, and the music was shut off. Soon all that was standing around was the family, she and her boyfriend.

She asked her parents if she could walk him to his car, and they agreed, so hand in hand the two walked out the front door and down the side-walk to his car. When they arrived at the car, each of them turned toward each other, and he thanked her for inviting him. She began to say that she was so glad that he came, but before the words could be spoken, he reached over and gave her, her first kiss on the lips, and then he disappeared into his car and out of sight.

She touched her lips where he had kissed her, and branded that moment in her memory box forever. She walked back in through the door, and went over and gave her parents a big hug, and thanked them for the party. She exclaimed how she had such a wonderful time, and she would never forget this. Her mama said to her, I was hoping this is what you would say.

My 40th Class Reunion

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I  did it! I went to my class reunion! I walked in the front door and became very shy like I knew I would. For about the first third of the evening, I smiled and answered when spoken to, but then I became a little more confident, as more and more people came to me saying they loved my blog, and asking how Al was doing. I was amazed! I didn’t know so many read my stories.

We seem to use a lot of names that are not truly our real names, so I don’t recognize most of the people who comment, other than the blog names.

This forced me to tell more about my writing and answer questions about a book I may have etc. Before long, I was actually laughing again. I felt so weird inside, I have to admit, because I caught myself several times looking to the back of me to see if Al was alright, but he was not there.

I had a good time and when it was officially over, I didn’t want to leave, as so many others stayed, but I didn’t want to turn back into a pumpkin, for being late at the strike of the clock. I was so sure that I would not feel that comfortable, that I told the caregiver I would be home when it was over. I raced to my car and sped home, feeling like that teenager all over again, not wanting to get scolded or grounded and not to be able to go out and play again!

I fit in! I even looked like most others! I misjudged myself. I thought I was so darn fat and so old-looking, that people would think I was the leper from the bible and walk by, but too many came to me and knew me without reading my name tag, and I realized for this one day, that there was still the old me hiding inside, that got to come out and play and laugh one more time.

I am so glad that many of you pushed me and encouraged me to go. Other wise I would have stayed home. I want to thank all of you for allowing the old me to reappear last night!

A Stranger’s Passing

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As I am sitting here writing to you, I have heard of news for the very first time, so you are the second to hear also. My mind is confused. I should not be numb, having no feelings of any kind. Yet my body has a warmth running from heart to toes. There is a cavity where my heart used to sit, that is now empty as my heart has fallen to an unfamiliar place. I have felt this feeling twice before, but it has been almost four and a half years by now. I find myself stopping, hesitating, as I write this, because my boggled brain is still trying to let this sink in. For years, I had always wondered so many things. Things that you would only be able to find the answers, if you stayed near by. There was a hush-hush when ever I would question a loved one around me. I would hear such things as, I don’t remember, it has been too long ago. Which left a young teenager still in turmoil. Was there love between us? Was my name remembered, my birthday, was it a special place in hearts? When I grew up and became a woman, I opened the local newspaper, and was so overly excited, because I had found information that would make my life complete, once and for all.  Things did not work out that way. There was love for the child, but discontent for the adult. I have never understood that myself, and still don’t know the answer to that. I made the trip. Not once, but three times. Maybe I was trying to prove that I was worthy of love. I know that I wanted all of my questions answered. This did not happen. After thirty-six years, there was no bonding to be made. It was very difficult for me to digest the knowledge that open arms were not there. There were no tears of joy, or words of apologies. Nothing but a hardness that showed itself in every word. I was stupid, or desperate, but as I said, I went back for more pain three times total. I did come to grips that this was a part of my life that needed to be put to rest. I was not Cinderella, but I did have the wicked mother. No feelings, no heart, very into her own needs, a selfishness I hope I never acquire. Last year, sometime, when I was having a weak moment, and stirrings were there to still know more, I placed a question in the geneology Section of geneology.com. Today, as I got on my computer to check my emails, there was a letter from a gentleman from geneology. I normally don’t open emails that I don’t know the person, but I did because of where it stemmed from. The words said you mother passed away February 20th, 2006. It continued to tell me about her parents, which I did recognize the names, and siblings, which I also was familiar with. It told of her second marriage, apart from my father, and his name, which I knew, and information on his parents, which I didn’t know. They had a daughter who married Dick Chaney, VP of the United States. This was family to me by marriage. The writer must have been trying to console me, letting me know I was related to a famous person, but all my eyes were fixed on  was  the part when she passed away. She had died. She was gone. I feel like I lost someone very important to me, but yet a stranger she was  in my life. A person who had occupied my time for many many years, was now gone. Once again, I have to learn to place this new information somewhere deep. So deep it will never find its way to surface again. It is over. Let it go. There are no tears to shed. Those were done many years past. Only numbness and a wicked sort of loneliness remains. I will get over this, like I did other hurtful times, and my life will go on, taking care of my brother. One day my brother and I also will be gone, then all will be final, no more thoughts or pain.