Computers are Way Cool

I've only really just begun to realise that self-promotion is ok.  So here is a little bit of something I created tonight to promote my debut album... let me know what you think 

 

 I'm rather proud that I've learnt a new skill and can make things like this within minutes... computers are way cool :)

 

cheers susan

The grand House - Part 3

"Margaret! Maaaaargaret!!  Come quickly!!!"
"What is it Steven?  Are you ok?" Margaret said, as she dashed into the sitting room.
"More than ok, I'm excited!" he squealed "Look at my plant!  I've got a plant!!"

Sure enough, as she leant over the small box balanced on the windowsill, there it was.  Small and delicate, just like Steven, yet it gave her hope.  Steven had been ill for some time now and only a miracle would see him walking again. The Doctors had said he was a moderate case and would survive it but it meant each day was still rather precious.

You would think that peace across the globe would bring more joy than it had.  The men had come home and women were there waiting for them and to resume their prewar lives, if they could.  For Margaret it was a little harder since she and Steven were the last in her family.  She had found work as a typist and was able to bring some home to do.  That had become more and more important since Steven's sudden illness.  They said it was an epidemic, that children everywhere were dropping like flies.  Another blow to people across the globe who had lost young to war graves.  There was no cure she was told.

She gazed at his smiling face and knew there was pain underneath.  Oh, he'd put on a "brave little boy" face for her as much as he could.  There were times when she caught him staring wistfully out the window to the garden he would never run around in again.

The window box had been a suggestion from the nurses at the infirmary.  Perhaps, they said, if he had something to look forward to he might recover better.  Her eyes were drawn to the small seedling that had risen from below the soil.  The one that had been brave and tough enough to erupt from it's cocoon.  She felt it was a start, albeit small.  Steven's face and squeals of delight nearly made her cry.  

As she turned to go back to her work Margaret shed a tear and smiled.  It was moments like these that made everything else seem easier to bear.

The Grand House Short Stories - part 2 (fiction)

She sat there hopeful he would turn up as he had done before.  To see that half smile he gave her yesterday would be nice.  It had warmed an otherwise cold day.  She tried not to be anxious or overzealous by pretending to write in her journal and sip her coffee.

Looking up each time the door opened she found herself becoming more and more despondent.  He’s not coming today, she thought. Like a known fact, her gut instinct told her she would not see his warm eyes today.  She suddenly felt a little bit sad; all because he had glanced her way more than once and smiled.

“Silly me”, she muttered as she shook her head and packed up her belongings.  Said goodbye to the proprietor and ventured out into the cold. She hoped her mystery man was ok and that the only thing wrong was their timing.  She hoped she would see him again so she could be brave enough to say “hello” this time.

He raced around the corner like a demon and parked the car.  Damn! There she goes, back to the warmth of her building.  He had tried to be there earlier; wanted to see her again.  Funny, he hadn’t meant to look at her the first time, but he did.  Then he found himself looking at her again; sideways glances whilst he waited for his lunch to be made.  She always looked calm and serene and he liked that.  There was something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on but suddenly he found himself back there every day hoping to see her.  Why he didn’t talk to her, introduce himself, he did not know.  What was he afraid of?  All she could do was say hello or just stare back at him.  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t survived worse before so why was he suddenly too shy to just go over and say hello?

He watched her stroll along the street gazing at the sky as though she had no cares.  He suddenly realised he’d held his breath whilst watching her, and inhaled the brisk cold air into his empty lungs. 

Pushing open the door he strode in and ordered his lunch, hopeful that tomorrow she would be there long enough for him to have the courage to say “hello”.

Susan Lily | Butterfly | CD Baby

Hi Everyone!
the link below will take you to my original music for sale on CDbaby! woohoo!

Susan Lily | Butterfly | CD Baby


I'd love you to go have a listen and buy if it you like and or come and join me on Reverbnation or Facebook at the following addresses

https://www.facebook.com/SusanLilyMusic

http://www.reverbnation.com/susanlilymusic

Have a great weekend everyone!

cheers Susan

Being an Adult

What exactly does “be an adult” mean? I was told today that I should "behave like and adult" because I "was one".... It had me perplexed because I actually thought I had been "behaving like an adult".  Perhaps I was wrong though.  So here are some examples of things adults have done or do so you can perhaps help me figure it out.

Should "being an adult" mean I am someone who

·         ducks in and out of traffic instead of using the pedestrian crossing

·          works in a halfway house and gives so much love to those around her

·         steals from other people when they are out of their home

·         refuses to take responsibility for their errors in judgement because of their celebrity status

·          drives within the speed limit and is more careful when they have passengers in their vehicle

·          thinks it’s fun to drive after a tonne of alcohol

·          bashes his or her loved one simply because they feel angry about the world or themselves

·         puts in a great deal of effort in the workplace every day

·         pushes through a crowd because they feel they are more important than everyone else

·         takes a dropped wallet to the police station because they feel it’s the right thing to do

·         cares for their elderly parents and/or grandparents on a daily basis

·          accepts they have a terminal disease and tries to fit as much living in before it’s too late

·         Is pleasant each day to those around them

These are just a few examples of some of the behaviour we hear about in the news and see every day.  So, what does it mean to “be an adult”?  I’ll leave that one up to you.

The Power of a Compliment

The world is an everchanging place and yet one of the most common things we humans continue to share is a complaint.  We just love to voice our angst at bad times, poor service, and unpleasant experiences.  What we frequently don't do after we voice our complaint is actually DO something about it.  To be honest, we are then contributing to the problem by not acting on what we have said.

I've been guilty of the above and began a campaign on myself awhile back to see if I could make a difference in a POSITIVE manner.  My biggest beef is customer service and the lack thereof in so many retail outlets, especially the chain ones.

As recently as yesterday and this morning I have set in place the seeds that I hope will make a difference.  In three instances the young people serving me where fantastic.  So I made a point of telling them how happy I was.  The instant change in their faces nearly hit me like a freight train on speed.  All three smiled, and not just a little one either.  Their faces beamed as though no one had ever complimented them before on their customer service in a good way.

In as much as people complain about the "young people" it is we "older" ones who need to re-inforce the positive rather than focus on the negative.  Just try it the next time you go somewhere and the person, young or older, treats you well.  See the difference it makes to their day and feel great that you had the power to help make that happen.

Taking a Leap of Faith

I was sitting out the front of my favourite cake and pie shop eating my lunch.  They make the most delectable food ranging from mouth-watering pastries to great sandwiches and rolls.  The pies they bake have a lovely thin crust which means you get more filling.  These beef and gravy pies are the best I’ve found in Melbourne and range from the basic to the curry.  The pasties are to die for and their sausage rolls don’t leave you burping yeast for hours after you ingest them.

I like their coffee too.  I’ve been in Melbourne long enough to know a good brew when I taste one.  The milk is never burnt and the beans used are high quality.  To top it off they are the friendliest group I’ve come across in ages which also why I frequent the joint.  I know their names and they remember every regular patron’s name (and there are many) along with mine.  In all it’s one of those rare gems that you make sure you polish and look after.

So, it’s sad when you overhear people who decide not to go in simply because of the cultural orientation of the staff behind the counter.  These guys had all but ploughed in through the door stopping short when they realised the ethnicity of these people.  I couldn’t help but ask them why they were suddenly hesitating if they hadn’t eaten there before. They had assumed the food would be "overpriced, terrible and of poor quality".   After a bit more friendly chat about the merits of trying something new I left it up to them to make the choice.  After all, they could have gone to any of the other places around the district.  None of which I will go back to, I might add.  The other places are staffed with skin colour and ethnicities that are a bit more accepted in mainstream society yet for me provided shoddy service, overpriced and poor quality food. 

Sometimes it’s great to look beyond our fears and take a leap of faith.  The irony is that whilst these two men were worried about inferior quality meat in the pies and possible food poisoning they failed to understand their responsibilities for themselves.  You see one was obese and the other was a smoker.