(Finished) Pysslingar Manor (22-03-17) -- (Author) T3ddy
(Finished) Pysslingar Manor (22-03-17) -- (Author) T3ddy
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Author: T3ddy
Timestamp: Mar 22, 2017 at 10:03 PM
Content: Introduction!
Hello, this is the first story I have written since I was sixteen, a long time ago! In those days I was a very different, very confused individual. It was almost 10 years before the internet would be available to the public, and another 30 years before I would discover that I wasn’t alone in the world.
I have really enjoyed reading many of the stories on this forum and thought that I would try and give something back in return. However I don’t claim to be a good storyteller so I hope that the following doesn’t fall flat or unintentionally offend.
One thing I have noticed is that many of the stories here are about young children coming to terms with their incontinence or children or young adults being put into regressive situations. However much we may want it, I suspect for most of us this is unlikely to ever happen. My story (and it is fiction – none of the characters or places is real or based on real people) is based on the fact that like it or not our bodies (if not our inner beings) are growing older. Maybe the story will give us all something to look forward to. Maybe even Pysslingar Manor does exist by a different name. If it does please PM me!
I hope you enjoy my story and feel free to critique.
T3ddy
Pysslingar Manor
Chapter 1
George stepped gingerly out of the taxi. The journey to Pysslingar, an ancient Norse-named village nestled in the heart of the Norfolk Fens had taken its toll and he felt drained at the culmination of what had been a long journey. He surveyed his immediate surroundings. In front of him stood his destination, “Pysslingar Manor”. He mused on the slightly peculiar sounding name and on the circumstances for his being here. It had all been a bit of a mystery, the anonymous letter through the post inviting him to come and visit. But, after a fruitless search for a new place he could call “home”, he was willing to give anything a try.
George had decided that it was time to move on. The children had all flown the nest, his beloved wife, Katie, had passed away a couple of years earlier and, whilst he had overcome the cavernous grief of losing his life partner and soulmate, the ghost of her presence was omnipresent. In short he had started to find it life a bit of a struggle and even he, a proud individual, had to admit his personal wellbeing had started to suffer. The kids had been persistent, they wanted to take care of him but he didn’t want to be a burden. They had their own lives to live and young families to raise.
No, he had decided, what he needed was above all else was a little regiment to his life. However, as he had soon discovered, finding the right environment had not been easy. He was not ready to move into a retirement home. They were all the same he reasoned, hot stuffy places smelling of boiled cabbage and unattended incontinence! Staff meant well, he had no doubt, but chronic understaffing, poor pay and a relentless focus on the bottom line meant they were little more than processing centres: ‘God’s Waiting Rooms’ as he rather uncharitably described them.
In front of him Pysslingar Manor stood out imposing in the early afternoon spring sun against the backdrop of the flat Fenland expanse. Less of an institution, it gave the appearance of a gently faded country mansion set in neatly trimmed lawns and prim box hedges that announced an orderly efficiency.
The gravel drive crunched under George’s feet as he slowly made his way towards the imposing front door in trepidation. He was just about to turn face and amble back off down the drive when, as if possessed by a sixth sense, the door swept open and out walked a young lady, George guessed in her mid-30s, of understated elegance neatly dressed in a modest navy coloured uniform.
“Hello, Mr Newman. My name is Jenny Brown. I am Matron at Pysslingar Manor” she announced in a friendly but business-like manner.
“Oh, hello” said George rather meekly. He was surprised in a pleasant way at the formality of his greeting. He was happy to be addressed by his first name but was a bit of a traditionalist and, well, formalities were there to be observed. He had bristled at the insistence of each of the retirement homes he had visited thus far in immediately, and without his consent, calling him ‘George’ without so much as a ‘by your leave’.
“Please call me ‘George’” he said regaining his composure.
“OK, George”, said Jenny brightly “please call me ‘Jenny’. ‘Matron’ makes me sound so formal and stuffy! May I just say how delighted we are that you took up our invitation to visit our home”.
George was just on the verge of asking about the circumstances of his mysterious invitation when Jenny warmly interjected. “Why don’t you come in for a nice cup of tea? You must be exhausted after your journey. We can have a little chat and I can then give you a guided tour of our wonderful Manor. And besides, Cook has freshly baked some cookies in honour of your visit.”
How could George refuse? He needed a pick up after his long journey and, to leave now would come across as rude.
The entrance hall to Pysslingar Manor was everything George imagined one might expect from a grand country house. The walls were lined with oak panelling that announced an understated formality to the building. On the walls there were hung numerous magnificent oil paintings each neatly dressed in an ornate gilded picture frame. Sumptuous sofas and armchairs were scattered in rhythmic spaced geometry round the room and, at one end, a magnificent fireplace housing a fire that crackled gently piercing the almost reverential atmosphere. A magnificent round carved oak table in the middle of the room bore a fabulous display of carefully arranged hyacinths that gave off a fresh yet intoxicating scent of spring.
“Have a seat, George and I will tell you a little more about the Manor” said Jenny gesturing George towards one of the armchairs.
A few seconds later and, as if summoned by an innate sixth sense, a young man appeared bearing a tray neatly laid out with a pot of freshly brewed tea and biscuits. “Thank you James, that’s kind of you. Just leave the tray there. I will play Mum and serve the tea” said Jenny busily tending to the ritual of pouring the afternoon tea and offering George one of the still warm gooey cookies.
“Hmm” purred George, “Peanut cookies. How did you know these were my favourite?” he asked half-jokingly.
George was sure that a twinkle in Jenny’s eye and the smile that accompanied it hid the fact that she knew more than she was letting on. But before he had the chance to interrogate her, as if knowing what he was about to ask she continued. “Now, George, to business. Before we start our tour let me tell you a little bit more about our aims and values at the Manor.”
“As you have probably spotted, all of our residents and carers are out on a day trip and won’t be back for a couple of hours. However, when you meet them you will quickly discover this is not a typical retirement home.” George stiffened ready to object. “Indeed, this is not a retirement home at all.” Jenny continued.
“Granted the majority of our residents are, let’s put this delicately, towards the more mature end of the age spectrum. But nevertheless age is not the key criteria for residence. Our motto is ‘never judge a book by its cover’. You see, our residents are people who, well, let’s just say are a little bit different, by which I mean special. At the Manor, we have a slightly unorthodox approach to caring for our residents. All our guests are unique beings and, rather than brush their differences under the carpet we celebrate their individuality and specialise in catering for their individual needs. Often these differences, that are judged ‘abnormal’ by society, mean that they may have been ostracised by members of the community and, even their families, for being a little, well let’s say unconventional.”
As someone who considered himself ‘unconventional’ George nodded, not sure if he understood exactly what it was Jenny was trying to say but nevertheless feeling comforted that the home treated each of their residents as individuals.
“George, before we start the tour there are a few formalities we need to go through. Is that ok with you?” George knew what was coming next.
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Author: T3ddy
Timestamp: Mar 23, 2017 at 9:07 PM
Content: Thanks Kerry. Here's Chapter 2. Hopefully you start to get a feel as to where we are going.
Chapter 2
The next few minutes passed in monosyllabic blur of form filling grasping every conceivable trivial detail about George’s personal details, each form moving every closer to the inevitable finale.
“We have received a report from your Continence Nurse about your, um, how do I put is delicately” Jenny continued “little problem.”
George flinched. Even after all these years feeling an embarrassment welling up inside. Jenny seemed to sense this and gently squeezed his hand.
“It’s ok, George. We are very used to this. In fact you would be in very good company at Pysslingar Manor! Most of our residents have control issues of one sort or another. It’s really no big deal.”
George relaxed a bit feeling comforted by the way Jenny reassured him without judgement.
“It says here you have little day control over your bladder, experience nightly wettings and occasional accidents with your No 2s. Is that right?”
Eyes downcast, George nodded mutely. “I sometimes forget I need to go before it’s too late”.
“It’s OK sweetie.” Jenny reassured. “If it does concern you and you want a second opinion we can always arrange for you to meet our excellent Doctor and Continence Nurse but, to be honest, and as I am sure you will know, for someone who has had control issues for as long as you pills and potions generally don’t work, and besides” Jenny continued brightly “there is no stigma here”.
George nodded looking relieved. “It’s OK, really. I progressed from pads to pull ups to ‘slips’, or nappies as I prefer to call them many years ago. I’m used to it but I just don’t like to talk about it”.
“Then we won’t unless absolutely necessary!” Jenny reassured. “You can write it down or whisper in my ear if that makes it easier”.
George smiled “Our little secret?”
“Exactly!” Jenny replied and then continued “Right, then George, that’s the icky bit over and done with. Do you have any questions before we start our tour?”
George thought a bit. “Why doesn’t it smell of boiled cabbages and stinky nappies in here?” he asked in a matter of fact way.
Jenny rolled her head back and laughed gently. George again felt embarrassment welling up inside. “My, you are a funny one!” Jenny said. “The reason, George, is very straight forward - plenty of fresh air, nourishing food and a strict hygiene routine. Unlike in some establishments you won’t find our residents sitting around in stinky nappies here!”
George smiled at Jenny’s no-nonsense matter of fact response. He was beginning to form a likeness for Jenny. Something strangely familiar with the way she spoke reassured him, authoritative and yet kindly.
“Right, let’s start the tour and I can explain more about our philosophy and answer any questions you may have as we go round”.
George, eased himself out of the comfy arm chair and obediently followed Jenny as she purposefully started to climb the oak carved staircase that rose majestically out of the entrance hall to the first floor.
“OK, George, we are going to start by looking at a typical bedroom. In fact, George, we though that you might like to have this bedroom if you decide to join us.” Jenny opened the door to the bedroom and stepped inside. George followed.
What greeted him was certainly not what he had expected. Instead of the usual drab coloured functional but characterless institutionalised rooms that he had seen at the various retirement homes he had visited and dismissed, this room was, well, different!
Apart from the pastel coloured baby blue painted walls and the babyish motif that adorned the curtain fabric that dressed the windows, his eyes were drawn to, what he could only surmise, was an oversized crib placed against one wall. Railings round each end and the side abutting the wall and a drop rail down on the remaining side. His eyes out on stalks, George was speechless as he surveyed his surroundings.
Sensing his initial surprise Jenny broke the silence. “As you see, each room is individual and decorated and furnished to the tastes and needs of each resident.”
“But this room looks like an oversized nursery!” George said.
“So it does” Jenny said in a vague and all too see through mock surprised tone. “You see, George,” Jenny continued, “all of our guests are special and we endeavour to dress each room to their individual needs and inner being.”
George was clearly taking time to process his surroundings.
“The cot, or let’s call ‘a bed with railings’ serves three distinct purposes. Some of our residents have a habit of rolling around in their beds at night and we don’t want to risk them falling out of bed and hurting themselves. Some of our residents are sometimes a little confused when they wake up in the night and tend to wander and for them the railings keep them safe from the distress of finding themselves lost in the middle of the night. And for some, in fact many, the railings give a sense of inner security and well being. Of course you don’t have to have the railings up at all and, in fact, unless there is a medical need we don’t require our residents to sleep in them at all, but most like to. Don’t you like the room, George?” Jenny said sounding slightly disappointed as if she had misread the situation.
“No, its just, I” George tailed off.
“We could redecorate if you find it too babyish” Jenny continued.
George breathed in deeply, his heart beating excitedly, contemplating how the response he would give to the question might be interpreted “No, its perfect” George said. I’ve dreamed of sleeping in a bed like this ever since…” George tailed off.
“Perfect!” Jenny said a broad beaming smile spreading across her face. “Of course, we will get you to choose the fabric on your bumper and duvet. We are very resourceful and can make them in our arts and crafts classes”.
An impish smile slowly spread across George’s face. ”Any fabric?”
“Yes, George, any fabric” Jenny replied.
“And you won’t mind if it’s a little bit, well, babyish?” George enquired.
“Not at all George. As I have said your well-being and happiness is all that is important to us here. We are broad minded and won’t judge you. We recognise that there is no such thing as normal, only degrees of special. You can even bring your teddies and cuddly toys to decorate your bed if you have any” she replied with a knowing wink!
“Now George, in here is the bath and changing room” Jenny said, leading George to an ante-room off the bedroom. Like the bedroom the bathroom was tastefully decorated and in the same infantile way. What also struck George was that one end was occupied by a low table like object with shelfing underneath and a thick mattress like cushion on top, again bedecked in the same infantile material as the curtains in the main bedroom.
“What’s that?” George asked in a perplexed voice.
“That, George, is a changing table”, Jenny replied matter of factly. “Haven’t you seen one before?”
“Um, no, not that size” George responded meekly.
“Well, believe me, we change an awful lot of nappies here and a changing table makes the job so much easier for everyone and no bad backs for the carers!”
“I guess so”, George responded in a non-committal sort of way. He had always been an independent type and, as Katie had not participated actively in his personal care needs had always coped solo. Since Katie had passed on though, things had slipped a bit he reflected, and perhaps a little help from a carer now and again might not be a bad thing after all.
Jenny broke the silence of George’s contemplation. “As you see the table has lots of useful storage space for all the changing essentials. All our guests are invited to choose the nappies they wear, be it disposables or cloth. Some of our guests even like to have babyish prints on their nappies!” Jenny winked knowingly to George.
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Author: T3ddy
Timestamp: Mar 24, 2017 at 8:58 PM
Content: Thanks again Kerry. Here's the penultimate chapter.
Chapter 3
“George, if you follow me, we’ll go back downstairs to the dining room.” Jenny continued “…but before then and on the matter of personal hygiene, there is something else I’d like to show you.”
Whilst he would have loved to stay soaking up the infantile atmosphere of the bedroom for a few minutes more George appreciated that the tour had only just got underway and there was much more to see. He followed Jenny back down the stairs and into one of the three corridors that lead off the entrance hall.
“In this corridor we have the dining room, that I will show you in a minute, a restroom and” Jenny said coming to a halt and gesticulating “a changing cubicle”.
George’s eyes widened as Jenny drew back a curtain to reveal a small open fronted room in the middle of which was positioned an identical changing table to the one George had just seen in the bathroom. Above the changing table hung a mobile adorned with brightly coloured infantile farm animals.
Sensing George’s reaction Jenny spoke up. “Some of our residents are quite self-conscious and embarrassed at changing time. Our carers aren’t of course, but the mobiles act as a voluntary distraction for those wanting to retreat back into their little space.”
“George, do you remember discussing boiled cabbages and the smell of stinky nappies when we sat down earlier?” Jenny questioned testing George’s recollection of the earlier conversation.
“Of course” George replied a little testily.
“Well the reason our home smells so nice…”
“Apart from the fresh air and cut flowers?” George added helpfully.
“Yes, apart from the fresh air and freshly cut flowers, George” Jenny continued “is that we take a very rigorous approach to personal hygiene.”
“What do you mean?” George asked.
“Well, we know that some of our folk are sometimes too busy or distracted to notice when they, um, have had little accidents. Well we don’t like them to remain too long in wet or dirty nappies. Apart from the fact that it is unhygienic and can cause a nasty nappy rash, it is not fair on our guests or their fellow residents to leave them in a stinky nappy”.
“That seems sensible” George added helpfully sensing that Jenny wasn’t quite there with what she had to say.
Jenny gently rested her hand on George’s forearm and gave it a little squeeze. “So, George, we insist on undertaking regular checks, just in case.”
“Ah” said George, the penny finally dropping. “So you..?”
“Precisely” Jenny replied gently. “In fact, George” Jenny said drawing the curtain across the changing station to enclose them in the cubicle “I think you need a little check, don’t you?”
George, stared intently at the mobile. He knew the long journey had taken its toll on his now soaking nappy but he had been too engrossed in the tour to raise the subject.
“May I, George?” Jenny enquired gently.
George did not meet her gaze. “Yes” he replied uncomfortably.
Jenny gently cupped her hand and gave the nappy between his crotch a gentle squeeze to confirm what she already knew. “It’s alright George, there’s nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about. Accidents happen. Why don’t you hop up on the changing table and we will get you nice and clean and dry and smelling as fresh as a daisy again?”
As if in a trance George climbed up onto the table and lay back staring fixedly at the static mobile.
“Would you like me to turn it on?” Jenny enquired gently.
“Yes please” George responded robotically.
A few minutes later and his dignity restored, Jenny drew back the curtain and George, as if a weight lifted from his shoulders, started the next chapter of his tour.
To all intents and purposes the dining room was unremarkable. Like much of the rest of the mansion the walls were adorned with wood panelling and a beautiful long dining table stood majestically centre stage in the middle of the room.
“George?” Jenny gently enquired bringing George wandering mind and of the events a few minutes ago back to the instant. “Settling in always takes a little while. It can be a bit unsettling at first for our residents to find we take a very active and hands on approach to managing their personal hygiene. However, they get used to it very quickly and that sense of personal humiliation to have someone else change your nappy quickly goes away, I promise you.”
George nodded unconvincingly.
Jenny gestured to an ornate side table that ran half the length of one of the walls. “Some of our residents can be a little messy when they eat or struggle not to spill their drinks so in that cupboard we keep bibs and sippy cups”.
George opened one of the cupboard doors to reveal a neatly stacked array of cups and bibs. Each was as individual as its owner. Whilst some were plain coloured and clearly designed for the functional needs of its user and many supported brightly coloured cartoon characters and infantile designs.
As if sensing George’s reaction Jenny started “George, remember...” “I know,”” George continued, each resident is special and unique and there is no judging”.
“Precisely” Jenny smiled. George had clearly got it!
“Not a whiff of boiled cabbage, George?” Jenny said in a gently teasing voice.
“No” said George, quickly picking up on the levity in Jenny’s voice.
“We believe in a balanced diet, George, plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, rarely a day goes by without your five a day. You’ll find constipation is not something our residents generally suffer from here!”
George smiled. He had always loved his food and particularly the delicious creations Katie used to make. As she was no longer around George had found it increasingly difficult to cook interesting and tasty meals. Cooking for one was such a bore.
“So, residents eat and sleep well” George, observed. “What do they do during the day to amuse themselves and keep their grey cells active?”
“Good question George” responded Jenny. “Follow me and I will show you our swimming pool, activity and craft centre and then we can go outside and see the garden. Does that sound ok?”
“Perfect” George nodded eagerly.
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Author: T3ddy
Timestamp: Mar 25, 2017 at 3:42 PM
Content: Here's the final chapter. For those of you who have read the story so far I hope you have enjoyed it.
Chapter 4
Jenny led George down another corridor. Panelled walls soon gave way to what George surmised was a more recent addition to the mansion and shortly they turned a corner and arrived at what was clearly the doorway into the pool area.
“Hydrotherapy is an important way to keep joints supple and muscles exercised, George. Therefore we encourage all residents, even our non-swimmers to exercise regularly. We do water aerobics, have a swimming team, organise water Olympics among the residents and have even been known to hold the odd water polo match! For our non-swimmers we provide arm bands and buoyancy aids.” George smiled. He had always enjoyed his swimming although for practical and personal reasons it was not something he undertook often these days.
“There is just one small thing, George” Jenny said, snapping his attention back to the present. “Any resident with any history of not being able to control their No. 2s, however infrequent, must wear aqua nappies. No exceptions and no ifs or buts I’m afraid and that would include you given your continence report”. As if ramming the point home, to George’s personal situation “But don’t worry George you will be in good company, there are few residents who have never had an incident and to be honest it means that everyone can swim safe in the knowledge that no embarrassing accidents will happen.”
George didn’t like it but he got it. At least in the present surroundings he wouldn’t be gawped at as if some sort of freak or made to swim at peculiar times of the day segregated off from the continent folk.
“Are you OK with that George? Jenny asked gently.
“’Suppose so” George answered and then, so as not to appear petulant or childlike continued “I guess it makes good hygiene sense”.
“George” Jenny beamed, I’m very pleased with your responsible attitude. If you don’t already own aqua nappies, we have some adorably cute PUL prints and, if you want it, we can rustle you up the most gorgeous swimming trunks. You’ll be the envy of every resident in the pool!”
George blushed. In for a penny in for a pound he though to himself.
“Now I want to take you to our activity and craft centre, George” Jenny said enthusiastically. “I am very proud of our alternative approach to keeping our residents minds active and enquiring.” George followed as Jenny almost skipped down the corridor towards the activity and craft centre. It was hard not to be caught up in her obvious excitement.
A few minutes later George and Jenny emerged into another wing of the Mansion. Boy, was George going to need a map to help him navigate the never-ending maize of corridors in this place!
The activity centre clearly was a focal point for the residents. A series of interlinked classroom like rooms each displaying a myriad of activities in varying stages of completion that gave the impression of a ghostly hive of activity with all the residents off site. The walls were adorned with examples of finished works.
“We encourage our residents to explore their talents and to give everything a go” Jenny introduced. “It’s amazing how many of our residents won’t have picked up a paint brush, a crayon or a needle and thread in some cases as far back as their primary school days. What’s more, it never ceases to amaze me given the right stimuli how creative and talented our residents are. It’s as if their inner child, naturally inquisitive and creative, has slowly been stifled by the constraints and conformity of adulthood.”
George nodded in agreement. Jenny’s comments had struck a chord. “George, do you want to know my little secret to nurturing and rekindling this hidden talent?” Jenny whispered in a hushed voice.
George leant forward. “Yes”, he replied matching Jenny’s air of mysteriousness.
“Well, and this is our little secret,” Jenny smiled, “I deliberately employ nursery or primary school teachers and assistants”.
“But why?” George asked, genuinely confused by the comment.
“It’s quite simple really” Jenny replied. “I find that primary school teachers are able to unlock the inner child and foster and an active and enquiring mind. Moreover, being experienced with infants and young children they understand that for some little accidents can often be an inevitable bye product of a distracted mind! It’s not all bingo and television here.” Jenny concluded enthusiastically.
George turned to leave. “So true” he muttered.
“George, would you like to look around our garden now?” Jenny enquired.
“In a minute”, George responded. “What’s that room he asked gesticulating to a small ante room off the furthest craft room.
“Oh, that’s our sensory and soft play zone” replied Jenny. “We encourage our guests to explore their touch, smell, seeing and hearing senses. It’s amazing how calming it can be and heightening the senses helps our residents to maintain an active mind. After lunch some of our residents like to come down here for a little quiet time to zone. Some like to bring their teddies and a pacifiers for a couple of hours and drift far, far away to Neverland.”
Following Jenny, George stepped through a doorway into the garden. George senses were immediately assailed by warmth of the afternoon sun’s rays and the unmistakeable yet evocative smell of spring blooms. He took in a deep breath breathing in the heady mixture of honey suckle and clematis that climbed lazily up the side of the Mansion walls.
He followed Jenny down a winding path that meandered its way down the garden away from the Mansion and the formality of its front lawn. “Our garden has been carefully designed into series of outdoor rooms to give our residents the privacy they wish whilst at the same time providing easily to navigate paths linking back to the main house to prevent anyone accidentally getting lost! As you would probably expect we have a kitchen garden and encourage our residents to get involved in growing food for our kitchens. We also have a beautiful old Victorian greenhouse, a fruit garden and orchard and preserve a lot of our own foods. Cook welcomes residents into the kitchen to lend a hand and you will find much of our produce is home grown.”
Turning another bend in the path Jenny mischievously smiled at George. “I’m going to show you my favourite corner of the garden.”
Just as George began to doubt if the garden path would never end they rounded a corner into a secluded corner to be greeted by three oversized swings, a see-saw and a roundabout.
“This is probably the favourite part of the garden for many of our residents who come down here to relax and be themselves without exposing themselves to the disapproval of others as they might if visiting a public playground. Mind you, we have to keep it a secret from visiting children or we might have a few tears before bedtime!” Jenny smirked.
“Well George,” Jenny said as they arrived back at the Manor after concluding their exploration of the garden. “We have come to the end of our brief tour of the Mansion. I hope you have enjoyed your visit? Let’s go and sit down and have a cup of tea and another of Cook’s special cookies and I can answer any questions you may have.”
A few minutes later and with the formalities of the tour concluded, George was enjoying his second peanut cookie of the day. He leant back in his chair surveying the surroundings, trying to take everything in.
“George” Jenny said, gently squeezing his hand. “I know this is probably a lot to take in and as you have seen this really is quite an unconventional home. However, I really do think you would fit in well here. It’s a long journey home. Why don’t you stay for a sleepover? We can feed you, introduce you to the residents and carers when they get home. We can lend you some pyjamas. We can take care of your night wear, wash the clothes you are wearing now and pack you off in the morning for your return journey home.”
George gazed intently into Jenny’s eyes. For a second he thought he caught a fleeting glimpse of his beloved Katie. Yes, everything was going to be alright. George was going to be happy in his new home, loved unconditionally and accepted for who he was not what he was.
“Yes please, I’d like that very much”.
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Author: T3ddy
Timestamp: Mar 25, 2017 at 4:45 PM
Content:
T3ddy said:
“As you have probably spotted, all of our residents and carers are out on a day trip and won’t be back for a couple of hours. However, when you meet them you will quickly discover this is not a typical retirement home.” George stiffened ready to object. “Indeed, this is not a retirement home at all.” Jenny continued.
Thanks for your critique Kerry. I wanted the story to focus on George's interaction with Jenny and his surroundings. I think bringing in the residents might have confused but agree that it might have made it more realistic.
I am glad I tried to write a story. It gives me more respect for those here who do it and do it very well. Nobody said it was easy. Maybe I will try another time, I'm not sure. For now I will sit back and enjoy the fruits of others labour. aci:
[End of quote]
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Author: T3ddy
Timestamp: Mar 26, 2017 at 8:51 AM
Content: Thanks again for the feedback, Kerry. You are right. Adding the residents would have added a new dimension to the story and given it the glue that is currently missing.
This was to be the third part of a tryptic about George. The first two parts set earlier in his life are about the making of George and his coming to terms with his identity. Whereas the third part is pure fiction the first two parts are semi auto-biographical.
However, I will have to rework the third part first before moving on. Who knows, we might even discover the secret to his love of peanut cookies!
Kind regards T3ddy
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Author: T3ddy
Timestamp: Apr 14, 2017 at 9:36 AM
Content: Thanks anton. It was heartwarming to wake up to that comment. T3ddy