Dear Diary

Yay, it is time for Paula’s Tuesday Story! I’m sorry, this is another one where I didn’t quite “get” the middle image. Am I supposed to recognise these people? I feel I should, but I don’t. But hopefully, an okay story anyhow. Images today are:

I was alone. When Simon got his big promotion, we had to move, didn’t we? I had already made my vows.

He, at least, seems to be settling in nicely. This new role seems to suit him. And I have it so easy, don’t I? I stay home all day, just look after our two-year-old, throw some food onto the table every evening. A cushy number, right?

Sure, I’m not getting out much, but this is a new city, a new continent, even. I miss my family, I’d like to be a little closer to mom and dad. And, it would be good to have babysitters every now and again, to get a break. But this was a big promotion. Stand by your man, right?

And in fairness, Simon has tried to help. He introduced me to Maggie, the wife of a colleague, another ex-pat. She seems nice, seems to have integrated, but then she has been here a while longer. I will get there, too. It’ll come.

I’m less sure about Maggie’s friends, though. Many of them are also ex-pats. They have a luncheon clud every fortnight. Last week, Maggie invited me.

It was kinda weird – grown women… There was one woman, she has been here forever, they all seemed to swarm around her – the queen bee. Once, she was obviously the star attraction. Now, she probably gets by on reputation. Painted pretty, immaculately made up, but no disguising those icy eyes. Pleasant, but every time we spoke, she was playing games with me, toying with me.

I don’t know if I’ll go again. I don’t know if I’ll be invited again. I don’t want to disappoint Simon.

I miss mom.

The Ugly Duckling

Yay, it is time for Paula’s Tuesday Story! Images today are:

“What’s the matter, lad?”, said Grandad. It was clear that young Joey had something on his mind. But they could speak to eash other, always could. Through all those teenage fights with parents, grandad was there. Grandad communicated with him.

“I’m sorry, grandad, it’s okay”, shrugged Joey, but feeling grandad’s warm arm around his shoulders, he gave way. “Look, lad, I can tell a mile away that there’s something wrong. Why don’t you come out to the loft with me and you can tell me all about it?”

The chill in the aire gave Grandad the isolation he desired. “Come on then, lad, let’s be havin’ it”. “I’m just so fed up with it, grandad. Why can’t I find anyone good? They all seem to last two minutes.” Some delicate probing told Grandad that Joey had just split up with his latest girlfriend.

“You know what you need?” Joey looked up with interest. “There’s nowt so irresistable as a man who can dance. Trust me, lad, the girls can never resist ’em.

While somewhat dubious – Grandad’s dating tips were fifty years old – Joey figured that he had nothing to lose. He started taking lessons. To his surprise, the idea of a girlfriend was pushed onto the backburner. Joey actually enjoyed the experience.

Nine months later, he was helping Grandad once again. He slipped it in – “The Dance School is having its annual awards this Saturday night, followed by a ball. I think I might be up for the Novice award.” Grandad replied simply, “Knock ’em dead”.

On Saturday, Joey did, in fact, win Best Newcomer. One of the reasons, they said, was the growth in confidence that the instructor had witnessed. At the ball afterwards, there was no shortage of congratulation. He even had Jo come up and say a few words. A member of the same class, Jo’s beauty and strawberry blonde bob stood her out from the crowd. He had noticed her immediately, but had never been sufficiently courageous even to breathe in her general direction.

“Thanks, Jo”, he blushed, and displaying his new-found confidence could not resist adding, “would you like to dance?”

National Security

Yay, it is time for Paula’s Tuesday Story! Images today are:

“Order, Order”. Like an impatient headmaster, the Speaker of the parliament rapped his gavel onto the lectern. His audience quietened deferentially. When he had complete silence, he continued:

“The next item on todays agenda is the CC Bill. As you all know, this bill is of such a sensitive nature, that I move that we sit this item behind closed doors. I move that all members of the public be removed from the chamber.”

“Second”, cried a supportive voice.

The votes counted, the house voted unanimously to sit in closed session. There were murmurings as those in the Public Gallery were commanded to leave the chamber. When the last one had left, the Speaker used his gavel once again, to command silence.

Amid a packed house which was breathless in anticipation, the Speaker turned to the Prime Minister and urged, “Come on then, Harry, let’s have those cupcakes”.

From Darjeeling With Love

Yay, it is time for Paula’s Tuesday Story! Images today are:

You have played your last hand, Mister Bond. For now it it time…

for tea.

The Sound of Squishing

Yay, it is time for Paula’s Tuesday Story! Images today are:

To the casual onlooker, it was a strange scene. There she was, tied to the rail tracks.

Suddenly, she started screaming, like a cat in a fight, like a demented Austrian nun. It was as though her world was about to end. But… there was no train in sight.

The woman struggled and screamed until, obviously satisfied, a voice rang out “CUT”. The voice then added, “We can shoot the train later”.

Meanwhile, an extra helped the actress back up to her feet, and she dusted herself off. “Was that okay?”, she asked calmly.