Women’s Intuition

I have no idea what this means. I’ve heard it referenced nearly all my life, but whatever it is has continued to elude me. Any kind of ability, in my experience, has been equal between men and women when it comes to being able to intuit something. In fact, my youngest brother is a lot better at intuiting anything than just about anyone else in the family (barring Mom).

So the label of this ability has never made any sense to me.

Does exactly what it says on the tin.

Really, it doesn’t do what it says.

This post was brought to you by the Light and Shade Challenge for Friday as well as a bit of glancing through my drafts folder.


Saturday Morning Stalls

She smiled as she moved through the stalls, listening to the people all around her as they haggled over the different wares. She stopped next to a small stand whose proprietor had wondered off. The box in front of her held a variety of vegetables, but no fruits. The food in front of her was freshly picked and had little to no bruising on any part that she could see.

She rummaged through one of the less conspicuous pockets on her person (actually, most of the pockets were inconspicuous; most people, if asked, would state that she had no pockets at all in her strange outfit) for enough local currency to purchase anything. Once she’d extracted a few very wrinkled bills and had sorted through them quickly, counting what she had, she looked up and into the face of the stall’s owner.

She hadn’t noticed him returning, but that mattered little. She pointed to a few things, not knowing the correct language to use and proffered her money. The man’s eyes brightened and he picked a few things out of the box. Money and vegetables exchanged hands and she wandered down through the rest of the stalls munching on a carrot with a beet in her other hand.

Written for Light and Shade’s Friday Challenge:

Though I failed at keeping below the 100 word count…

Forest Revere

photo by jazza on

A moment alone
In a forest of one
Brings clarity
Clears rebellion.
The wind in the trees
Whisper softly to me
Of secrets 
And gentle reminders.
They tell me I’m not alone
Though no one I see
Because Someone
Is always walking with me.
The birds chirp loudly
And fly over head
Startling me
out of revere.
I look to the sky
Notice clouds that drift by
Painted the colors
Of the sun’s slowing death.
image: martha0stout's phone

image: martha0stout’s phone

Yet I am reminded
It is not a permanent one
Because I know
That was changed by Someone.
Prove it?
I’m happy
As is.

Written for the Friday challenge from Light and Shade:

The second picture is one I’ve manipulated a bit because I couldn’t find any of my sunset pictures.

Drop It Already

Sometimes the hardest thing to do in life is to accept something. You don’t want it to be like that that, you want it to be the way you said it would be. You don’t want to accept that you were wrong and that now you have to do something else.

“Just hand me back my quilt!”

“I don’t have it, if you didn’t want it down here, then you shouldn’t have tossed it down here in the first place!”

Getting kids to stop arguing is definitely one of them.

“It’s just one of those mornings, isn’t it?” you ask.

That is one of those instructions that are so much easier to write than to carry out. ‘Just pop the pill down the cat’s throat’ is another one.
The Housewife’s Handbook, 
Rachel Simhon

Written for the Friday prompt from Light and Shade Challenge:

And because the children will not stop arguing even if they’ve been told to drop it already.