Three Times is Charmed
Saturday found me driving here and there. I was doing whatever you do when you’re driving, concentrating on a tricky hairpin corner, when whoa! I hit the brakes. There was a deer standing right in the middle of the road. It gave me a good look and then sauntered off the road and into the bush. The kids and I thought that was pretty neat.
So then I’m actually driving down my driveway when suddenly a deer springs right in front of my car and bounds into the bush. It all happened so fast I pretty much didn’t have time to blink. You can bet that caused a lot of marvelling.
And then that same day I was returning home from yet another trip (kids!) when, just off to the side of the road, I see a streak of brown rushing towards the road. I slam on my brakes. Out in front of my car races a—wait for it—a coyote! (Or some other such canine type creature.) Wow!
So when I got home safely and without further incident I pondered those encounters. Deer, deer, coyote. Hunh. Taken as a whole they seemed sort of completed, and not only because after three close calls I was still un-dinted. I think the feeling came from the element of three. Three feels like a significant number. It feels complete; like closure.
This three thing resonates in stories (in religion too but I’m not going there). Here’s how it goes:
The First incident is the setup. What is the situation? It’s shown to readers.
The Second incident is a repeat of the first and so it sets the pattern. Readers will now expect that the situation will be repeated, or that it’s part of a regular pattern.
The Third incident similar but it’s changed somehow. While the reader expects to see what’s come before, this time it’s different. This is the twist or the unexpected conclusion.
And that’s what I experienced with my deer, deer, coyote encounters.
Look for the pattern of three in stories. Would it work for yours? Try it and it might just be the charm you need.
© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.
Counting Cars
A train! This is always cause for stopping and rolling down the window, if at all possible, in my family. Everywhere. Even in Pickering.
So to park safely I missed getting a picture of the engines. But what’s a train without CN boxcars?
And tankers, flatbed cars, hopper cars…. This train was terrific!
But when it had passed we encountered a serious disagreement. My daughter said there were 146 cars while my son insisted there were 165.
There is no winning for a parent in this situation.
© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.
Of Pickering, Power, and Parking Lots
This past weekend I found myself in Pickering, Ontario (last minor hockey event of the year). Being in the Greater Toronto Area in the last few days has made me realize that there are things I am not used to having to deal with. They are:
* Lack of parking spaces–everywhere!
* Lineups–everywhere!
* People running yellow lights–all the time!
At our hotel one night we couldn’t find a parking space anywhere so we, being the savvy country survivalists that we are, spotted a space where a snow pile was preventing its use, got out of our car, kicked the snow mound to flatten it out, and proceeded to park over top of it. Hah!
The parking lot to the arena was under huge electrical power towers. The lines hummed in a most eerie way.
I have to confess, though, that it was more eerie to find out that those four dome shapes just visible in the haze in the lower left were the nuclear power plant. I knew it was around but didn’t realize I would actually be able to see it!
The power towers marched on as far as I could see in both directions.
Most fascinating to me, though, was being close to the huge windmill (and one of those nuclear domes is slightly more visible in the lower left).
We wanted to get a closer look at this windmill so we asked a local for directions. He happily provided them (and possibly looked at us like we were weird seeing as he admitted he’d lived there his whole life and had never seen it closer himself).
The size of it is difficult to believe. Those are not evergreen bushes, they’re full blown trees. Of course, at this location I was steps from the nuclear power plant. Time to leave.
It’s great to be a tourist!
© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.
Parked in Parry Sound
So there I was in Parry Sound trying to pass that dreaded hour wait before a minor hockey game (you know, because your kid has to be there an hour early to get ready allowing you time to indulge your craving in crappy snack bar food). This day I was in the car in the parking lot with the girls because it wasn’t all that cold out for once. The girls were having excellent adventures with Polly and Barbie in the backseat. I found this view in my rearview mirror rather interesting.
Well, I did say I was bored.
Then I heard the whistle of a train. Parry Sound has a fabulous train bridge. It’s fabulous because it’s way up in the air. But alas I was in the wrong place and couldn’t get to the right place in time (besides which I’d lose my stellar parking space at the arena). So here’s the view of the bridge from my vantage point.
And a little to the left of that.
I can’t help but count cars when I see a train. Why is that? But then my time of leisure was up. Time to get to the serious business of cheering on my favorite hockey team.
© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.