Rambly is home

On the 23/4/2013 I wrote a post that I was having/needing a break from the blog world.
I felt as if I was in a maelstrom with my reading, commenting and writing over the past month. Combined with the worry of being out of work, losing the friendship of a close girlfriend and then commencing the part time job, I felt I was circling the drain, not being able to hold onto the sides and saw my self about to slither down the plug hole.

I have returned from my interlude feeling more optimistic than what I was last week. I realised in my self-imposed need to be the perfect follower and blogger by reading, commenting and writing as much as possible,  that in fact I was putting undue pressure on myself.


My slightly addictive personality got the better of me, I was becoming all encompassed and consumed by my writing. However in saying that,  I am my own worst enemy and I continued, when all that was required was to take a step or two back, take a breath, centre myself and re-evaluate.

I needed to be pulled in another direction for a little while. Life does get like that occasionally, I am sure you have all experienced it in one form or another, where you feel events are getting on top of you and there comes a time/need to refocus.

The ‘obsession’ may very well take hold of me once again as the days pass and I shall possibly fall back into the sink staring once more at the plug hole, but this time I shall be holding onto the edges!  I felt I had to write for every challenge site with a photo or word prompt, every Haiku prompt every flash fiction and though I enjoyed them immensely, I think I was asking too much of myself.

This however may change a little as a couple of you made comment, I had to remember why I started this blog journey, it was my love of writing, my thirst to explore different avenues in what and how I wrote, my unstoppable quest, I did not believe for one moment that it would cause any anxiety and that all that was required was for me to once in a while ‘chill’.

I must THANK EVERYONE who was kind enough to leave a message on my post, wishing me well with my hiatus. I was quite taken back with the response from everyone. You care and I am so grateful that you do and I appreciate each and every one of you for showing concern.

All of you have been so generous with your support and I will continue to support you as much as I can, for as I have previously mentioned, if we do not support each other, then why are we doing this?

I laughed at my stats – (oh yes we all check them from time to time) and, as I wrote on my last post they did plummet to 13 views a day, which was to be expected. You don’t write, no one will read. You don’t comment on other posts, yours won’t be commented on either.

Blogging is a two way street,  do we continue to write posts day after day, week after week because we do not wish to have any feed-back, critique or kind words spoken? No, my friends I think not,  this is a community that we all share and how nice is it be acknowledged? For someone to tell you how much they loved what you wrote, or how they made you laugh, or cried, were helped or inspired in some way by what you have written. This is why we blog – this is why we place our otherwise private thoughts our lives into a public domain (otherwise we may as well keep a secret journal and be done with it).

I am honoured and I appreciate all of you.

I missed my blogging community, I missed my ‘virtual’ friends.


Rambly is taking a small break

My dear Readers,

Rambly/Mumsy/aka Jen is having a small break from posting. I am finding myself somewhat exhausted after writing continually for the last month. My brain is a little frayed at present and I need to step away for a short time, to gather strength, to revitalise my muse and soul search on how often I write and perhaps indeed what I write.

I shall be trying to read what I can, of those whom I follow, but for the time being, I am not able to catch up with everyone on a daily basis as I have been doing, so if I don’t leave a comment or hit a ‘like’ I ask for your forgiveness. For those who may worry about me, please do not, I am fine, I am just a little tired, physically and mentally. I know my ‘stats’ will plummet, my followers may drop off, but such is life in the ‘blog’ lane.

I have pushed myself for the love of writing…because that is who I am,  but right now…this very moment,  I cannot push myself any further, I am not suffering writers block, I have merely reached a dead end,  where I feel I can’t keep up.

As per my Blog Etiquette post, blogging is about keeping up – following – commenting – posting, like any relationship it requires work.  I have made so many friends, been so very fortunate to have the followers that I do and have always received supportive and encouraging comments, which I am immensely grateful for.

I do feel guilty that I will not be doing this over the next 5 or so days, but hopefully soon, things will return to some sort of normality. I will still be reading what I can – just not able to write or give you the feed-back you deserve.

Until I return,

I wish you all joy in your writing and hope to see you all soon.

Yours most Sincerely,



Rose Garden

damaged petals
hedge taunts
barricading words
scissored rose thorns
fell piercing
bleeding epidermis

that was
then this
is now
no thorns
no cloche

forgotten rose
your memory
sap renewed
through my

this new gardenimages-3

welcomes me

we blossom

you and I

Discipline Yes or No?

For the record. This post is purely my thoughts and opinion, I am not dictating what you as a parent should or shouldn’t do.

Great minds seem to think alike – mine being one 🙂 the other Mer over at Knocked Over by a feather.

See her link here on the subject I write about. I had this in my draft folder last week and didn’t post, then I read the below, which reminded me to finish it and finally post.


Back in my school days (yes many moons ago) I,  along with many of my stirring little brat class mates, were now and then introduced to this delightful fellow images-1

“JENNIFER………..” would be sternly roared across the room (and you knew you were in trouble when they used your full name).  I would then rise from chair and rather sheepishly walk to the front of the class red face from pure embarrassment (or sometimes giggling trying to hide my fear) to hold out my slightly shaking hand out for my impending punishment.

How many smacks I would receive would depend on the severity of the ‘crime’ that I had committed. Talking was usually the one that did the trick, ok not just a word or two, but a full on conversation, where I didn’t pay attention to anything that was being said. I knew I was in the wrong, so I took it like a man…I mean girl. I think the most every received was 6 in one ‘lesson’. If  my crime was more severe I would be dragged to the Principal’s office for his/her lecture (and a phone call to mum and dad) this occurred more when I was a young rebellious know it all (hard to believe I know) but I had my rat-bag moments whilst at school.

In my family life, my two brothers and I would on the odd occasion get the ‘strap’ from dad. One of my brothers (RIP), was subjected to more of these punishments than my elder brother and I. Sometimes…well I managed to convince dad that I was his little girl and battered my eye-lids which led to a reprieve, but not always.

People now label this as ‘child abuse’.  In fact there is pretty much a LABEL for everything these days. Teachers are actually teaching the children this, to the point where even mine in their later years at school would say “You can’t touch me, or I can report you to the Police”. Those who do not follow the ‘smack rule’ look upon you as the devil incarnate if you dare ‘smack’ your child on the bum when they are screaming the supermarket down for the lolly (sweet) that you have told them for the hundredth time they cannot have.  I have witnessed as I am sure most have, of the frantic, frustrated mother, standing there watching her child throw a tantrum on the floor of a supermarket, not knowing what to do or to handle the situation. There are parents who honestly do not know what to do. “Shall I smack – what if I am caught”? “Shall I walk off , pretend I’m not being effected and let everyone else deal with the screaming?”

I KNOW there is a HUGE difference between giving your child a ‘smack’ on the bum or hand to full scale intent to do continual physical (and therefore possible mental damage). However parents are afraid to ‘smack’ over here. Parents are made to feel like monsters or criminals for disciplining their child how they see fit and as mentioned they can be reported if they are seen doing so, now sorry,  but what a load of cods!

Do we not have rights as parents to administer discipline to our own children anymore? Have the ‘do-gooders’  (for want of better description) of the world completely taken over? Why do we have the problem with youth of today?

Two different opinions are mainly given.

  1. They were ‘abused’ as a child (this excuse is forever given in our judical system) and now they are so mentally scarred that they have to release their anger onto the world in the way of grafitti, theft, fighting or yes even murder.
  2. They weren’t disciplined enough when they were little and now feel because they were able to get away with everything in their younger years, they have the ‘right’ to get away with what they want to now, in whatever form they choose.

I understand there are parents that actually feel physically sick if they smack their child

“Why did I do it, only to make myself feel better?”

“They didn’t mean it, they are only young, they didn’t know any better”.

“They are going to hate me now”.

“What does smacking prove?”

What does it do? What may it do? It may very well be the message that your child needs to hear (or feel) from time to time, for an action that they have done for which you don’t agree with.  Those and there are sadly numerous who smack for the hell of it, are out of control and I do not advocate that this is correct, in any form or fashion. However a tap on the bum or back of the legs or a smack on the hand – surely us as a society can see that this is not going to damage our child and furthermore whose child is it?

Perhaps being dealt with in this manner could in fact stop the youth of today ‘doing as they please’ for they know that punishment will ensue. Too many of our younger generation believe they have a right to commit a crime, or hurt others and why, because they weren’t given any form of discipline when they were growing up. I didn’t get punished for being bad then – I won’t now. Some may use the excuse that they were born that way or that they grew up in an abusive relationship – there is a BIG difference between ABUSE and a smack on the bum people! It has just been given the same LABEL.

The naughty corner could be used, silence as your child stands staring into a corner for every 1 minute of their age, if this works for you I am pleased.

However I have seen little ones put through this (Mr. S’s grandchildren) they come out and apologise and within 5 minutes they are back acting out in the same way.

So wouldn’t a smack on the bum, that causes an ‘ouch’ remain with them longer (and by that I do not mean mentally scarred for life, but purely the ouch factor)?  Showing them that for every wrong action there is a consequence and that consequence is not pleasant? Or is it better to let them ‘perform’ because they are only ‘little’ and as they grow they will learn right from wrong?  So when does that happen, at what age?

Perhaps I am ‘old school’ with all the literature written and new age ideas that have come to the fore since I raised my girls the way of handling situations has seemingly changed, because hell knows, no children were born or raised prior to these new findings!!

I for one, gave both my girls a smack when required, I certainly experinced them. Have I turned out any worse for it? NO I don’t think I have. I do not have nightmares, or suffer any mental illness for being reprimanded for playing up. I certainly did not look to a life of crime because I thought I wouldn’t be punished and therefore could do as I pleased. Seriously folks, let us not get so tied up with others preaching/dictating how we should raise our children!

I learnt lessons as I was growing up and too often in our society this does not happen.

I haven’t done a ‘Rambly’ for some time, it was overdue. Any comments or thoughts – fire away!

The Anniversary – VisDare


Nineteen chairs, unoccupied, scattered unceremoniously amid the unkept grass.

The backdrop of power lines hung forlornly in the distance.

Who had painstakingly climbed, to carry them to this isolated stretch of hill?

Why in fact were they placed in such an erratic manner, neither lined, or doubled in rows as if to witness a performance, a ceremony?

What was the reason for their presence, old and hardened wood, that afforded no comfort?

He stood looking out to the hill beyond, waiting for the clouds to withdraw into the blackness.

One by one, he watched them slowly walk, to take their place in order.

Silent, mere shadows of themselves, the saddened faces passed each other, to take their seats as they had done every year for the last 20 years.

The chairs were once again occupied.

Those that worked the power lines, those that didn’t survive.


145 words.    I so wanted to continue my story from last week, however the era was not right to do so.

Each week the amazing Anonymous Legacy posts a photo – the story to be 150 or less.

For – http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/visdare-16-vacant.html

Travelling again – oh wouldn’t it be luverly

Yesterday the 13th of April (well over here it was) daughter # 2 with her hubby of course (because she wouldn’t leave him at home)  left our fair Australians shores (the one that’s girth by sea) if you know our Anthem (which we pretty much all dislike) or is that just me?   Anywho, they have embarked upon a 4 month holiday (yes some can holiday for 4 months through choice)  across the great lands and waters to South America and America.  They left Sydney yesterday afternoon on a 14 hour flight bound for Santiago.  They will be seeing Mucho Pitchoo (that is so not right) it’s Machu Pitchu.  How amazing would that be?? Am I tinsy little bit jealous? Hell yes! But I am also extremely happy that they are able to have this wonderful opportunity and see so much of our world.
Daughter # 2 is an extremely organised young woman, and has given me copies of all relevant paperwork in case of any emergency (no Mumsy don’t stress they will be fine).
She has also provided the keys to her house (probably hinting that housework may be done at liberty whilst she is away). She has also forwarded a …. SPREADSHEET (and don’t I know who will excited when they read THAT word!!) I haven’t yet perused said spreadsheet in-depth, but it lists each plane, bus, car, boat and taxi they will be using. It also lists all the Hotels, Hostels, Guesthouses were they will be staying.  It lists the approximate times of arrivals and departures. (So Mumsy knows at any given moment where they are) hopefully. They have already travelled quite extensively ( but I think this is the last ‘big one’) before they return home to  ‘settle’ (though I have been told ‘settling’ will be another year from now) patience Mumsy, patience.
I have travelled to let me see…Queensland, Brisbane, New South Wales..oh and France twice (yes it’s gloat time) Spain, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, top to bottom of UK (seeing most but not all of it sadly) um erm Prague. I have been to New Caledonia (don’t worry you aren’t missing much if you haven’t been) Bali, Thailand and Vietnam.
Maybe I should write about the places I have been to (sings but I’ve never been to me) though I would have to pull from memory banks and sadly there has been too many withdrawals.
How many countries have you been too? (How is that for a grab at views?) Pretty clever huh (winks). Ok let’s define this a little more. If you have visited another country that you loved – tell me why it was so magical, what made you fall in love with it?
For me (rubs brow frantically as this is hard to choose) and I can’t choose just one. I love England, the castles, the cobblestone roads, the bridges, the thatched houses. I feel I belong there (if I didn’t like the warmth so much perhaps I would be). I love Ireland for its open fields, it’s laughter,  its friendliness and ok its (one heck of an adorable accent). I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone (and yes they do wipe it after others have had a turn). Nothing equals the history of Europe and I adore history (strange but true). Seems my memory banks are opening a little and I feel I could indeed write about my travels…but it’s late and I’m tired and my silly finger with its equally silly arthritis is saying STOP TYPING!
So shall I miss my girl  (and my darling Irish son-in-law) *nods* yes I shall very much.  Do share the magical place you have visited.
Below is the list of the places they are going to (taken from said spreadsheet). Goodnight everyone. x
Sydney  they have left here
Santiago they have arrived here
Aguas Calientes
Puerto Mal.
La Paz
La Paz
Isla Del Sol
La Paz
Santa Cruz
Buenos Aires
Sao Paulo
Iguassu Falls
Sao Paulo
Ilha Grande
Florida Keys
St Augustine
St Michaels
New York
Los Angeles
Santa Monica
San Francisco
Yosemite Park
Los Angeles
Las Vegas
Grand Canyon
Los Angeles
New Orleans
New York



Majestic Magic For The Dark Queen Writerly Bridal Shower

The Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower (or #DFQWBS)
Anna Meade is getting married to Michael Thomas Loy Jr and a group of writers, have been pulled together to contribute a flash fiction, with a marriage theme consisting of either or all of the following –   Proposal; Hen/Bachelorette Party; Stag/Bachelor Party; Ceremony; Honeymoon.  These stories will then be compiled in an eBook that will be presented to them as a wedding gift.
How cute is that!        http://rosalindsmith-nazilli.com  Kindly asked if I could submit an entry for the lovely and talented Anna Meade better known perhaps as the Dark Fairy Queen who writes the Yearning for Wonderland blog.   Below is my entry.
Majestic Magic

Her hands trembled, as she sat gazing at her reflection in the mirror.

Her make-up being applied by the Nymph Arethusa, who painstakingly worked to achieve the right balance, for she had never ‘worked’ on a Dark Fairy Queen before. What if the eye liner was too heavy, the mascara clogged, the lipstick too deep or too pale, her cheeks not presenting the glow of the blushing bride, would she be cast off into the land of Lipps?

She need not have been concerned, for the result was truly magical, Anna looked breathtaking. She turned her head to the left, then right, admiring, she liked what she saw and graciously smiled to Arethusa, who nervously curtsied in return.

The time for dressing, Anna walked into her room unzipping the protective cover of the gown that she would don. Her bridesmaids, giggled and rose from their chairs to accompany their Queen.

Arms raised to the heavens the gown was carefully placed, as to not spoil her ‘do’. Lowered, the many satin buttons that cascaded like a waterfall down her back were slowly fastened.

Veil and head piece placed, white satin shoes, something old, something new, she held her bouquet of Freesias, Heather Flower and Queen Anne’s Lace. She was ready to be wed.

She knew within the hour she would have the man of her dreams, her King.

Her ‘chariot’ arrived, the bridesmaids quickly gathered her train and helped her to be seated, her legs were jittery and the white lace hanky, given to her by her mother was tightly being wound around her fingers, continuously. Her ‘girls’ who sat opposite, felt their Queen’s nervous energy and promptly opened the bottle of pre-mixed Fairy Belle Cocktail.

Laughter soon enveloped the carriage, their Queen was now relaxed.

Anna alighted from the chariot with alacrity, albeit slightly giddy from the consumption of too many Fairy Belle’s.

She paused, breathed deeply, regained her composure and entered.

Her parents looked in awe upon their ‘little’ girl, whom they adored, she had grown into a bewitching young woman, their baby, their Anna. Her father linked her arm and with glistened tears he whispered “I love you Anna, how beautiful you look”.

To her King, towards the man of her dreams, she walked, steadied by her fathers gentle arm.

Fairy dust sprinkled from above, anointing her, it glowed and sparkled as it fell upon her skin. The Fairies were blessing this union, this was a sign.

The stars in her eyes blended with moist tears, as she grew closer. Michael’s hands nervously wringing together, she gave him a reassuring smile.

“Who gives this woman?”

“I do”, her father hesitantly replied.

Anna slowly let go of her fathers arm, the man that she had loved for ever, the man that encouraged and taught her right from wrong, he gently smiled as he felt her arm release.  She kissed his cheek and whispered “I love you Dad, I will always be your little girl”, then she reached for Michael’s hand.

They said I do and exchanged rings, they tenderly kissed and held each other tight giggling “I love you – I love you more”.

Michael swooped Anna in his arms, kissing her ear, he carried her towards the Reception area in the Courtyard, the relief from months of planning was almost at an end.

The speeches were made, the toasts given, the glasses clinked, the food served and heartily consumed.

Let the PARTY begin!

The Goblin and Elf band began to play.

From the forest, the fairies tip-toed in, the congealed blood trickling from the corners of their mouths.

Anna looked… her invitations were accepted, she cast a smile and a wink in their direction, showing how pleased she was at their arrival.

POW – Fireworks lit up the darkened sky, radiant bursts of gold, red and green, showered the starry night.

The Queen and her King walked majestically to the centre of the dance floor. Their spirits high, their smiles engaging.

“DANCE” Anna and Michael laughed and commanded.

Dance they did, the fairies, the wizards, goblins and elves, all linked arms pointed toes and bowed.

Towards the woods, in the distance, Anna saw the burst of flames and smiled at their ride home.


Author – Jenny Tacken
eBook – Yes

To Anna and Michael – An Irish Toast – Here’s to the wings of love, may they never molt a feather, till your little shoes and his big boots are under the bed together.


Mother of The Bride – Me

The Mother of The Bride

My eldest daughters wedding 2 years ago. Thought I would pop in a pic or 2 along the way & quite frankly this is probably one of the best pics I have (the professional make-up and having my hair done makes the world of difference!). Apologies if this seems a little vain – but I thought connecting the writer with the face may be helpful and as I said this is the only photo I’m truly happy about : -)