My favourite toy when I was a little girl was the Tree Tots Tree house. It was a dolls’ house in the shape of a tree.
If you pushed a button on top of the tree, it sprang open to reveal a house! I absolutely loved it.
So you prompt this week is
TOYS
I always enjoy seeing what you come up with if the prompt gives you inspiration, but there’s no obligation to share your writing. Here is the work you shared on the last prompt GREEN.
You’re right, green can conjure many things, but when I’m home, green means spring! Here in Florida, it always feels and looks green, so unless its a temperature change, you don’t notice a difference. I hope that when we get home, spring is in full swing and winter has tucked its tail and slunk off until next year!
“Give me the green.” The pistol in his hand shook like it was a vibrator. The clerk tried to explain that this is not that kind of bank, but the man became more agitated with each passing moment. Finally heaving a big sigh the clerk handed over his wallet.
“What the hell is this?” the thief shouted. The clerk explained that it was all the money he had.
“I don’t want money. This is a land bank isn’t it?”
“Y-yes, it is.”
“Give me the green.”
“Money?”
“Grass you idiot.”
Green is my favourite colour. It always makes me feel optimistic as there are so many shades of it, especially in Spring.
For me it’s a sign of new beginnings after the cold of winter, the promise of beauty to come as the roses burst forth with new growth.
The trees after a heavy rain. The trees are bright green.
I often wonder what God’s favorite color is.
The answer must be green. There is so much green in this world.
I think of green frogs.
This reminds me of the time my son and I were going to bury a frog. Not a tree frog, but a bullfrog. We thought it was dead. Lo and behold, the frog was playing dead. Once the first feel of the dirt over its body, the frog opened its eye to our surprise.
We laughed.
Back in August of 2021, my wife and I owned a 2012 Mini Cooper Countryman. It was a great little car and we loved it. But at ten years old, it was showing signs of age and we decided it might be a good time to get an electric car, since our Countryman required premium fuel, which at the time in the San Francisco Bay Area was going for about $5.00+ a gallon. One year later, in the summer of 2022, it was approaching $7.00 a gallon.
We decided to get an electric car not only to avoid having to take out a bank loan just to fill our car’s tank with gas but because we wanted to buy a zero-emissions vehicle. We figured that not only would we be saving money by not having to pull into a gas station and to fill the tank every week, but that we would be going green, and reducing our carbon footprint.
We love our electric car. It’s close to maintenance-free because it has way fewer moving parts, never needs an oil change, and it’s been almost four years since we pulled into a gas station. Once a week we plug the car into our at-home charging station in our garage and the car automagically starts charging at midnight when our electricity rates are the lowest and is finished before we wake up in the morning. What is not to love?
I don’t want to get in a big debate with anyone about whether buying an electric car is a positive thing for the environment or if it’s delusional to believe that owning an EV is going green. I believe that buying and driving a zero-emissions, non-polluting vehicle is good for our environment. And since this my blog, my opinion reigns supreme.
We bought our electric car in August of 2021 — not a Tesla, by the way — and couldn’t be any more pleased.
I woke up weak, a whisper thin,
With churning tides that roil within.
The room did spin, my thoughts grew slack,
A storm was brewing down my back.
My face, once bright, now pale and lean,
Reflected in the sink: sea green.
A ghostly hue, not fit for skin—
A color born of sins and gin.
My stomach groaned, a dragon caged,
Each breath a war, my body raged.
Then came the flood, a wretched tide,
Of all I’d tried so hard to hide.
Soup and sorrow, bile and dread,
A symphony in porcelain red.
A prayer was moaned to gods unknown—
Please let me keep my soul, alone.
The world grew soft, the pain withdrew,
But left its scent: regret and stew.
I curled beneath the fevered light,
A greenish ghost in morning’s blight.
So here I lie, a humbled mess,
With nothing left but time and stress.
And vow again—till next I slip—
To mind the drink, the food, the dip.
It’s quiet in May,
I’m leafing through the trees,
a maple me
*
you’re too good for may
I am leafing through the trees
wood you take me home
The master waited for his cat to fetch him his greens for lunch.
Years and Moons
it’s been many years,
many moons—
the pandemic struck
like a sudden storm.
whispers faded,
cries fell broken,
laments rose like thunder.
the green, lush garden—
once full of life—
felt like a desert,
barren and cracked.
we never thought we’d make it—
not through another year,
not even a little more.
but God is good,
as He has always been.
and now, years on,
we look back
with gratitude stitched
into the fabric of our hearts,
a whisper of hope
rising again—
for the land, once dry,
now blooms
in luscious, abundant green.
The Green-eyed Monster
When I was a girl of ten years old, my family moved from Cape Town to George, a largely Afrikaans speaking town in the Western Cape. I was enrolled in a small convent school as it was English speaking and Catholic. George, a small countrified town, was rather laid back and many of the children started school a year later than average. I was already a year younger than average, so this resulted in my being two years younger than most of my peer group. It was a difficult time for me. Ten and eleven versus twelve and thirteen is big at those particular ages. I was still keen on my dolls and Anne of Green Gables. The older girls were interested in boys and movies like Grease. I was a little girl, and they had boobs and hips.
There was one girl who I thought was incredibly pretty. Her name was also lovely. Kirsten, so much prettier than Robbie. Kirsten had long blonde hair that fell in a sheet to below her bottom. She was thirteen and had a mature figure. I was green with envy of this girl and wished I could be just like her. In retrospect, I was ridiculous. I came from a progressive family and Dad was always supportive. He thought his girls could be anything they wanted to be, and he encouraged me with all sorts of sophisticated books on art, history, and sculpture. We were not wealthy, but we always had a comfortable home and good clothes. Poor Kirsten had much older parents as she was a ‘laat lammetjie’ (late lamb). They were ultra conservative, and she was being raised to take on the traditional role of a housewife and mother. She made all her own clothes and never had anything modern or fashionable. I didn’t understand these things as a girl. I only saw the long hair, large eyes, and curvy figure, all things I would have loved to have. I sometimes wonder what happened to Kirsten.
Envy is
The green-eyed monster
Desiring
Long, blonde hair
I wished to be different
Such a silly girl
***
Esther Chilton 
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