Caz Greenham Author

Kindle-books for Christmas

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She Believed She Could, So She Did

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Scone Or Scon?

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At 40, Franz Kafka (1883-1924), who never married and had no children, was walking through a park one day in Berlin when he met a girl who was crying because she had lost her favourite doll. She and Kafka searched for the doll unsuccessfully.

Kafka told her to meet him there the next day and they would come back to look for her.

The next day, when they had not yet found the doll, Kafka gave the girl a letter “written” by the doll saying “please don’t cry. I took a trip to see the world. I will write to you about my adventures.”

Thus began a story which continued until the end of Kafka’s life.

During their meetings, Kafka read the letters of the doll carefully written with adventures and conversations that the girl found adorable.

Finally, Kafka brought back the doll (he bought one) that had returned to Berlin.

“It doesn’t look like my doll at all,” said the girl.

Kafka handed her another letter in which the doll wrote: “my travels have changed me.” The little girl hugged the new doll and brought the doll with her to her happy home.

A year later Kafka died.

Many years later, the now-adult girl found a letter inside the doll. In the tiny letter signed by Kafka it was written:

“Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way.”

Embrace change. It’s inevitable for growth. Together we can shift pain into wonder and love, but it is up to us to consciously and intentionally create that connection.

NEWS coming soon…so make sure you’re following my blog…

Frank Kafka (1883-1924) Franz Kafka was a German-speaking Bohemian novelist and short-story writer based in Prague, who is widely regarded as one of the major figures of 20th-century literature.

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Photo Snapping:

Besides writing books, I’m a total camera-snapper. Beware, you may well find yourself on my Brixham blog one day!

A few photos of my garden just before it poured with rain. I especially like how the English bluebells have spread.

Pretty leaves, will produce yellow flowers

Maid Marion overseeing the goings-on… was once in my dad’s lovely garden until his passing

English bluebells, Susan (Magnolia) pretty in pink

Do you like my lamppost ? Obviously I do

Get the kids a new book! E-reader #Amazon http://Author.to/CazGreenham

Cazzy x

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Stroll Round My Brixham Garden

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Caz Greenham

Only A Whisper Away

Posted on 20242024 by Caz Greenham Author

A poem I wrote after I lost my dad to Prostate Cancer. I hope it offers some comfort to those of you who’ve lost someone dear, as it did me. Below: wedding photo with my dearest dad, John.

My (2nd and last) wedding day with my lovely dad

Only a Whisper away (copyright Caz Greenham)

Don’t cry for me,

For I’m not gone.

I’m only a whisper away.

~~~

Call my name,

I promise I’ll hear.

I’m only a whisper away.

~~~

Think of me in your dreams,

And I’ll meet you there.

I’m only a whisper away.

~~~

I’m the breeze in your hair,

I’m the wind that kisses your cheek.

I’m raindrops that fall,

I’m with you everywhere.

~~~

So…don’t be sad,

Just call my name.

For I’m not gone,

I’m only a whisper away.

Love you, dad x

Copyright Caz Greenham

Do not copy without written permission by the author

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Thank you for dropping by today x Caz

As I approach the anniversary of my dad’s Passing.

The only thing I can turn to for comfort is that other thing I love, poetry.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)

Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

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J-SHAPED TREES

There are certain warning signs in nature that may be easy to miss, at least at first. J-Shaped trees are a potential sign of dangerous landslide activity in the area. These trees signify that a landslide is on the way. How do they signify this? Well, before a landslide is fully triggered, the ground begins to shift. As the ground shifts, these trees begin to bow from the movement. If you see trees beginning to bend into a J-shape, it’s time to move!

Thank you for dropping by today x

Caz

Browse my amazon book page here:

J-Shaped Trees. Woodland

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You might consider yourself a very rational person, but then something as simple as a calendar date or a number makes you feel differently about things. You might think twice about boarding a plane on Friday 13th or taking a flight number 13. I once worked with a fella who was so superstitious he stayed in bed all day…apart from a quick dash to the loo for a pee. Every Friday 13th, I think of Roger; wondering if (a) he’s still alive and (b) if he is (alive) would he be in his pj’s snugly tucked up under the duvet covers. Probably!

I avoid walking beneath ladders whatever the date. Simply because I would feel stupid if a pot of paint fell on my head. Or worse, if heavy scaffolding knocked me out cold on the pavement. Otherwise, no I’m not at all superstitious.

Some people, like my work colleague of yonks ago, Roger, are really scared of the date. He booked every Friday 13th off as holiday in the Office Diary. We were all – well some of us more than others – (well, yes moi especially) made many attempts to book the 13th off before Roger could get his hands on the new diary. You guessed it, it was never going to happen! We (I) tried ringing him on his house phone in an attempt to get him out of bed to answer it. No chance of that either. He confessed once that he always pulled the phone cord from its socket just to make certain it didn’t ring downstairs in his hallway. Had it all covered, did our Roger. A pinned notice on his front door ensured parcels were redelivered the next day.

Such fear has a rather long name: ‘Paraskavedekatriaphobia’ now try and pronounce that after a couple of G & T’s.

Why are we so scared of it?

‘Tis said that the fear is likely rooted to Christianity. Jesus was crucified on the cross on a Friday 13th and ever since, the day has been associated with ‘general ill omen,’ according to Michael Bailey, a history professor at Iowa State University who specialises in the origins of superstitions.

Weddings in the Middle Ages, for instance, were not held on Fridays and it was not a day someone would start a journey. Thinking about that for a moment, I always liked to travel midweek on a Wednesday. Maybe I have hidden superstitions, after all.

Thirteen guests are believed to have attended the Last Supper, the night before Jesus was killed. And, Judas Iscariot, the disciple who betrayed Jesus, is considered to have been the 13th guest.

Thanks for visiting, before you go… drop by the Amazon author page http://Author.to/CazGreenham

Friday 13th

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Covid-19 ~ Pandemic ~ When People Stayed Home

Posted on 20242024 by Caz Greenham Author

A reflection on our daily living during COVD19 Pandemic 2020.

And people stayed at home
And read books
And listened
And they rested
And did exercises
And made art and played
And learned new ways of being
And stopped and listened
More deeply
Someone meditated, someone prayed
Someone met their shadow
And people began to think differently
And people healed.
And in the absence of people who
Lived in ignorant ways
Dangerous, meaningless and heartless,
The earth also began to heal
And when the danger ended and
People found themselves
They grieved for the dead
And made new choices
And dreamed of new visions
And created new ways of living
And completely healed the earth
Just as they were healed.

***

Thank you for visiting today.

Before you go, grab a book from my amazon author page. Caz x

Caz Greenham

The Man Who Sank the Titanic

Posted on 20242024 by Caz Greenham Author

A short story by my youngest Grandson, Ethan, aged 9 ~ soon to be 10.

Southampton: April 1912

The weather was calm at sea as Sailor Robert stood at the helm steering the huge, unsinkable, Titanic on its first sea voyage. The ship, known as the floating palace due to its over-the-top accommodations, and its hundreds of paying passengers, was on its way to New York. As they journeyed across the Atlantic, people below decks were busy getting to know each other in the plush surroundings while eating, drinking, and dancing to the ship’s orchestra. As the ship approached the north-west Atlantic the temperature began to drop. Those on lookout duty received several warnings that icy seas were ahead. However, no one believed that the ship was in any danger and ignored the warnings believing the ship to be unsinkable. They received telegrams from the ship SS Amerika giving warnings of large ice-burgs ahead. SS Amerika had already passed two large icebergs on their journey. Evening approached and sea conditions became very icy, but, the captain chose not to reduce the ship’s speed and ignored the warnings. The crew believed, wrongly, that there would be lots of time to get out of the way of the ice, if necessary. Still, no one saw any dangers ahead. The lookout suddenly spotted an enormous iceberg in the distance. He soon realised it was much bigger than he first thought, and so, he rang the warning bell as Titanic headed straight for the ginormous iceberg. Suddenly, as the bell continued to ring out, confusion, screams, and fear echoed throughout the ship. Passengers only felt a bump, but nothing more than that. There were only four officers on duty on the bridge. The first officer in charge ordered the ship to change direction, but, it was too late to avoid a massive collision. Rocket distress signals were fired into the night sky. The direction change caused the ship to strike the iceberg side-on, causing Titanic to start sinking below the icy waves: where the ship would eventually stay forever on the seabed. Several lifeboats were launched into the cold-as-ice sea. Seven-hundred-and-six lives were saved, but hundreds of passengers sadly drowned that day. It would take several hours before a ship large enough would reach the sinking Titanic, and rescue those who had managed to scramble to safety into lifeboats. The poor souls unable to clamber into a lifeboat due to them being already over-full, perished in the coldest waters.

The End

A short story by Ethan J. Ward aged 9.

Submitted to BBC Competition 500 words. 2020