Theme Thursday - Traffic

Now, one would look at these pictures (as I did) and say "What the floop?" so I had to go and look into exactly where this conglomeration of lights was and how it affected traffic in the area.

This is actually a sculpture designed by Pierre Vivant in 1997! It's on the traffic island of Heron Quays Roundabout in Canary Wharf in London. The official name is Traffic Light Tree - although, really, shouldn't it be called Insane? We New-Englanders call it a "rotary" - what they call a "roundabout" in England. Can you imagine being a tourist and seeing that? I'm sure the residents are quite used to it and probably don't even give it a second thought - but if I went there and saw that, I'd cry and start walking. LOL

The Time in Between - Tenth Daughter of Memory

The time in between

If you think about times when you need a lot of patience, consider these:

…the time between getting pregnant and delivering the baby…

…the time between when you start high school and graduate from high school…

…the time between putting an offer on a house and it’s accepted…

…the time between getting engaged and getting married…

…the time between the start of the work day and the end of the work day…

…the time between putting the turkey for Thanksgiving in the oven and when it’s done…

…the time between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning (especially when you are a kid!)

…the time between discovery of a potential health issue and the actual diagnosis…

…the time between one paycheck and the next…

…the time between foreplay and orgasm…

Now, I’m sure everyone has their own ideas for when patience is needed…care to share?

The Tenth Daughter of Memory

I was 18 and in trouble.

I don’t think this would’ve happened if Dad hadn’t died in June. I was lonely, did not get along with my mother, took a year off before college and here it was, October, and I was “late” – every teens nightmare. And how do I approach my mother to tell her?

I got up enough nerve to ask her how late I needed to be before I should start to worry. She said at my age if I didn’t have it and if I was sexually active, then I should be worried. Ok, so now I was worried.

They didn’t have pregnancy sticks back then from what I can recall so she had me make an appointment at this unwed mother place “in the city” – where it was confirmed that I was pregnant. Options, options, options – I was told I had a number of options. But for me, being raised a Catholic and my father being a regular church-goer prior to his passing, the only option was to keep the baby.
Epilogue – my son is now 25 years old, married and about to purchase his first home. He was the best thing that ever happened to me and I can’t imagine life without him.

What felt like a trap then turned out to only be a different path.

For other submissions for Trapped, please click here.

BIIIIIG Understatement!!

Ted William's head mistreated...

see the full article here