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NaNoWriMo starts in the morning.
Huh? What?
November is National Novel Writing Month. NaNoWriMo for short. Crazy people and writer decide to write a novel in one month. By Novel it means 50,000 word that would be 1,667 or so words a day. Check out http://www.nanowrimo.org/ for more information. I am not that ambitious and I don't type fast enough. So through Live journal I will be participating in a Mini NaNoWriMo. I have a personal goal of 200 words.
I will only be clocking my story/poetry/Writing Beta Place words.
So you may notice a number at the bottom of my posts for the month.
Any way I Have decided to post Prompts in Blocks.
Here is the next 3 days:
Sunday:
The Next Morning
Monday:
Describe The Girl
Tuesday:
Moving In
I will be using these three to expand on my ghost/haunted house story but one can use them for anything. I am hoping that I can get some critiques and comments that will lead to a few more for the story and then on to some others.
185 but this doesn't count
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Black
It is hot here. The air is dusty and thick. It is dark. I was not expecting it to be like this I wish we could have rehearsed this part. Through the darkness I can hear voices. They are not too far away I know that I need to face their direction and some how I have gotten turned around. I stifle a sneeze as I don’t want to be heard I know that would be bad and I would be reprimanded for that. I slowly and carefully as not to make anymore noise slowly turn towards the voices.
The voices I hear are high, clipped and full of drama. Even though I can’t see them I get the sense of bubble gum and 1940’s short blond feminine curls from the female voices. The men sound just as over dramatic and they sound like they are in suits and ties.
I squint at the blackness in front of me. I can see the heaviness of the velvet and know that I may be too close. Knowing I shouldn’t I reach out towards the Velvet. I do not touch it and I am relieved. I feel like I have had too many mistakes tonight. I hope that I am in the right place.
I wait. I know that I have time.
I hear one of the blond bubble chewing voices start to sing about “Patti Cake Cookies”. Two more join her in harmony. Then a deep bass voice and a whistle. It is beautiful and but so corny that I want to laugh out loud. I know I can’t my presence here is a secret and I must be quiet. I know I have a little more time to wait.
Suddenly the first cue comes. A large crackle and a Voice over a loud speaker somewhere. “Attention students, please remain in classrooms”
I can here the rustling of the students and the exclamations of the voices that are closer to me. I hear running footsteps. I believe these steps are an arrival of the radio.
Here in the darkness my anticipation has begun to build. Loud static noises come from the radio but barely above that I can hear movement around me. A hand grips my shoulder, I feel some on lean into me hearing them breath next to my ear.
“Viv is that you?”comes the horse male whisper of Eric.
Automatically I nod I know I cannot be seen. He pushes a hard object into my shoulder. Instinctively I grab it. It’s cold and metal long and thin heavier on one end where i Can feel a small metal box with grate like slits on the un even sides. at the other end of the metal tube is a cord. I realize this must be one of the old fashioned microphones that we have been waiting for.
I can feel the air move around me as my cohorts take their places. All is quite in the dark but on the other side of the curtain I can hear the taped news report gaining volume and the gasp and tears from the bubble gum blonds.
Silence falls in front of the Black Velvet the radio is even silent I hear some small sounds from the students. There is Movement next to me.
“Boys and Girl Fellow Students” Comes Eric’s Voice. “In 1938 Orson Wells Staged a radio play called War of the Worlds It told the story of a space invasion from Mars” I find I ma looking at my feet and I can see them. Light is coming from under the Velvet Black. It is rising. I quickly look around there are 12 of us in our Black Jeans and T-shirts each holding a n old fashioned microphone. Laura is speaking her line and I know there are three more speakers before me and our total reveal.
I Take my pose standing up right and strong holding the mic at my mouth.
“We hope that you were not frightened by our little play and beg your forgiveness if you were. All of what you heard on the radio was prerecorded by the 12 of us.”
As the next speaker takes over I look at the kids in the audience. some look like they are confused others are smiling. One young boy clings to his teacher and I feel a stab of guilt. We did scare some of them. Part of me rejoices that it worked but looking as he clings to the teacher I wish that I could return to the quite and choking black.
The voices I hear are high, clipped and full of drama. Even though I can’t see them I get the sense of bubble gum and 1940’s short blond feminine curls from the female voices. The men sound just as over dramatic and they sound like they are in suits and ties.
I squint at the blackness in front of me. I can see the heaviness of the velvet and know that I may be too close. Knowing I shouldn’t I reach out towards the Velvet. I do not touch it and I am relieved. I feel like I have had too many mistakes tonight. I hope that I am in the right place.
I wait. I know that I have time.
I hear one of the blond bubble chewing voices start to sing about “Patti Cake Cookies”. Two more join her in harmony. Then a deep bass voice and a whistle. It is beautiful and but so corny that I want to laugh out loud. I know I can’t my presence here is a secret and I must be quiet. I know I have a little more time to wait.
Suddenly the first cue comes. A large crackle and a Voice over a loud speaker somewhere. “Attention students, please remain in classrooms”
I can here the rustling of the students and the exclamations of the voices that are closer to me. I hear running footsteps. I believe these steps are an arrival of the radio.
Here in the darkness my anticipation has begun to build. Loud static noises come from the radio but barely above that I can hear movement around me. A hand grips my shoulder, I feel some on lean into me hearing them breath next to my ear.
“Viv is that you?”comes the horse male whisper of Eric.
Automatically I nod I know I cannot be seen. He pushes a hard object into my shoulder. Instinctively I grab it. It’s cold and metal long and thin heavier on one end where i Can feel a small metal box with grate like slits on the un even sides. at the other end of the metal tube is a cord. I realize this must be one of the old fashioned microphones that we have been waiting for.
I can feel the air move around me as my cohorts take their places. All is quite in the dark but on the other side of the curtain I can hear the taped news report gaining volume and the gasp and tears from the bubble gum blonds.
Silence falls in front of the Black Velvet the radio is even silent I hear some small sounds from the students. There is Movement next to me.
“Boys and Girl Fellow Students” Comes Eric’s Voice. “In 1938 Orson Wells Staged a radio play called War of the Worlds It told the story of a space invasion from Mars” I find I ma looking at my feet and I can see them. Light is coming from under the Velvet Black. It is rising. I quickly look around there are 12 of us in our Black Jeans and T-shirts each holding a n old fashioned microphone. Laura is speaking her line and I know there are three more speakers before me and our total reveal.
I Take my pose standing up right and strong holding the mic at my mouth.
“We hope that you were not frightened by our little play and beg your forgiveness if you were. All of what you heard on the radio was prerecorded by the 12 of us.”
As the next speaker takes over I look at the kids in the audience. some look like they are confused others are smiling. One young boy clings to his teacher and I feel a stab of guilt. We did scare some of them. Part of me rejoices that it worked but looking as he clings to the teacher I wish that I could return to the quite and choking black.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Blue “a family evening vignette”
*OK I have resigned my self that I may not like everything I write. This is a case in point*
Holly walks into the room carrying a very blue box of cereal.
“Hey” Interjects Bill “thats my cereal!”
She turns and looks at him and meeting his blue eyes with her equally blue eyes the exhaustion from swimming takes over and she turns and flees the room. Tossing the box of BooBerry Crunch at her father.
“You can some if you ask.” Bill calls after her. Sitting next to me on the couch he chokes of a chuckle as her mood change dawns on him.
“I think I have really upset her” he says to me as he gets to his feet and follows her.
He comes back with a sigh and flops on to the couch.
“Yeah I upset her.” he says rubbing his hands on his blue jeans. His blue eyes full of resignation and self disappointment. “At least now you have something to write for Blue”
Holly walks into the room carrying a very blue box of cereal.
“Hey” Interjects Bill “thats my cereal!”
She turns and looks at him and meeting his blue eyes with her equally blue eyes the exhaustion from swimming takes over and she turns and flees the room. Tossing the box of BooBerry Crunch at her father.
“You can some if you ask.” Bill calls after her. Sitting next to me on the couch he chokes of a chuckle as her mood change dawns on him.
“I think I have really upset her” he says to me as he gets to his feet and follows her.
He comes back with a sigh and flops on to the couch.
“Yeah I upset her.” he says rubbing his hands on his blue jeans. His blue eyes full of resignation and self disappointment. “At least now you have something to write for Blue”
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Purple
Blue is being temperamental today me but this came to me as I was sitting knitting with Holly while watching Griffin in his exercise class
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.When Holly was in 2nd grade she joined a knitting club
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
We bought purple wool yarn and size 8 needles
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
I couldn't remember how myself and hoped she would help me remember
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
He teacher tried to teacher but she was impatient
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
She wanted all the yarn to be a long thin purple scarf
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
She gave up and handed it to me.
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Knit eight purl eight.
I took a class to learn
Knit eight purl eight.
I bought purple and blue yarn
Knit eight Purl eight
I made a scarf from the assigned pattern
Knit eight purl eight
Hand spun 100 percent wool.
Knit eight purl eight.
I could not wear the scarf my self
Knit eight purl eight.
Yet I am so proud of my finished scarf
Knit eight purl eight.
Since my class I have collected
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Knitting and crocheting patterns
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.And Skeins of yarn
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
And unfinished projects
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
One purse sits half knitted
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
One blanket of no pattern one fourth knitted
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
One hat started and undone and stared and undone
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Here I sit with that first scarf that Holly quit
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Over six feet long of purple wool
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Still
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Now Holly is in 6th grade
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
She wants me to teach her to knit
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Always popcorn stitch
Knit one purl one knit one purl one.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Green
“Walking on velvet green.
Walking on velvet green. Distant cows lowing.
Never a care: with your legs in the air, loving.
Walking on velvet green.” 'Velvet Green' by Jethro Tull
The harpsichord flute and electric guitar come tinnily from the car’s speakers. Viv laughs from the back seat. It is not the first time she has heard this song, Jethro Tull is one of Shelly’s favorite bands.
“What is so funny” asks Scott with a mischievous look in his eye looking up in the rear view mirror. He is thinking that he will get the scoop on something Viv has been up to.
“I was thinking of something my father once told me about green stockings.” replies Viv with a chuckle.
Shelly who has become a great fan of the professors antidotes turns with an exited gleam in her eye.
“Well my Dad once told me,” Viv starts then pulls herself up as tall as possible in the cramped back seat, into a straight shoulders back pose holding an invisible pipe in one hand and stroking a imaginary beard with the other. Dropping her voice to a male professorial tone she continues “A woman of loose morals would wear green stockings to hide the grass stains”.
Scott snorts and Shelly laughs. Viv’s imitations of her father and the things he says are always so stiffly british and crass at the same time. Scott pulls the can of soda from the console and lifts it too his mouth.
Viv leans back resuming her usual diminutive stance, but with a grin that says she is pleased with the response. With a glint she then looks thoughtfully out the window “I don’t think it would work to well, grass stains turn brown after a day or so.”
Scott prays the windshield with his mouthful of soda.
“I’m glad that is diet” I don’t like a sticky dash.” Shelly says as Viv hands her a pile of tissues from the box behind her.
Scott regains his composure never swerving as he continues to drive. “I suppose you are right Viv, And one could not wear all green all the time or one would advertise your loose morals better than a scarlet letter.”
“And my father triumphs again having us think about literature!” Viv Lifts her head in laughter in the back seat.
The three of them laugh and giggle the remaining way to the mall. When they get out of the car in the parking Viv notices the first sign of Spring as a small green plant has pushed its way through the grey slush of the small parking lot island.
“Spring is on its way!” Says Viv gesturing at the plant.
“It has been a long winter and After Spring comes summer!” Replies Shelly
Scott has gotten ahead of them.
“Come on ladies!” He shouts back at them
“Coming!” they reply.
“Ok where too first”
“Fabric store” says Viv “Got to buy some green Velvet.”
“Then to Victoria’s Secret to buy some Green stockings” Says shelly
The two women dissolve into peals of laughter as they enter the mall arm in arm with Scott chuckling and shaking his head right behind them.
Walking on velvet green. Distant cows lowing.
Never a care: with your legs in the air, loving.
Walking on velvet green.” 'Velvet Green' by Jethro Tull
The harpsichord flute and electric guitar come tinnily from the car’s speakers. Viv laughs from the back seat. It is not the first time she has heard this song, Jethro Tull is one of Shelly’s favorite bands.
“What is so funny” asks Scott with a mischievous look in his eye looking up in the rear view mirror. He is thinking that he will get the scoop on something Viv has been up to.
“I was thinking of something my father once told me about green stockings.” replies Viv with a chuckle.
Shelly who has become a great fan of the professors antidotes turns with an exited gleam in her eye.
“Well my Dad once told me,” Viv starts then pulls herself up as tall as possible in the cramped back seat, into a straight shoulders back pose holding an invisible pipe in one hand and stroking a imaginary beard with the other. Dropping her voice to a male professorial tone she continues “A woman of loose morals would wear green stockings to hide the grass stains”.
Scott snorts and Shelly laughs. Viv’s imitations of her father and the things he says are always so stiffly british and crass at the same time. Scott pulls the can of soda from the console and lifts it too his mouth.
Viv leans back resuming her usual diminutive stance, but with a grin that says she is pleased with the response. With a glint she then looks thoughtfully out the window “I don’t think it would work to well, grass stains turn brown after a day or so.”
Scott prays the windshield with his mouthful of soda.
“I’m glad that is diet” I don’t like a sticky dash.” Shelly says as Viv hands her a pile of tissues from the box behind her.
Scott regains his composure never swerving as he continues to drive. “I suppose you are right Viv, And one could not wear all green all the time or one would advertise your loose morals better than a scarlet letter.”
“And my father triumphs again having us think about literature!” Viv Lifts her head in laughter in the back seat.
The three of them laugh and giggle the remaining way to the mall. When they get out of the car in the parking Viv notices the first sign of Spring as a small green plant has pushed its way through the grey slush of the small parking lot island.
“Spring is on its way!” Says Viv gesturing at the plant.
“It has been a long winter and After Spring comes summer!” Replies Shelly
Scott has gotten ahead of them.
“Come on ladies!” He shouts back at them
“Coming!” they reply.
“Ok where too first”
“Fabric store” says Viv “Got to buy some green Velvet.”
“Then to Victoria’s Secret to buy some Green stockings” Says shelly
The two women dissolve into peals of laughter as they enter the mall arm in arm with Scott chuckling and shaking his head right behind them.
Yellow
Yellow is a banana sweet and ripe before it turns spotted brown.
Yellow is the sun risen past the red and orange before it reached high in to the sky to become the blinding white
Yellow is the color of the caution light after the green and before the red that means STOP!
Yellow is he color of the leaf haven stopped producing chlorophyl as it drifts to the ground soon to become brown an brittle.
Yellow is a rain slicker dripping water on the floor from the peg in the hallway where it hangs.
Yellow is the color of the honey as it slowly runs from the spoon into the amber tea before you dip the spoon in to stir to sweeten the brew.
Yellow is the color of the lemon cut in half and squeezed for its juice to make the lemonade for the summer stand sold for 25 cents in a dixie cup.
Yellow is the color of transition. Yellow is the color of home and brightness. Yellow is the color of flowers and stinging bees. Yellow has a complexity of beauty.
Yellow is the sun risen past the red and orange before it reached high in to the sky to become the blinding white
Yellow is the color of the caution light after the green and before the red that means STOP!
Yellow is he color of the leaf haven stopped producing chlorophyl as it drifts to the ground soon to become brown an brittle.
Yellow is a rain slicker dripping water on the floor from the peg in the hallway where it hangs.
Yellow is the color of the honey as it slowly runs from the spoon into the amber tea before you dip the spoon in to stir to sweeten the brew.
Yellow is the color of the lemon cut in half and squeezed for its juice to make the lemonade for the summer stand sold for 25 cents in a dixie cup.
Yellow is the color of transition. Yellow is the color of home and brightness. Yellow is the color of flowers and stinging bees. Yellow has a complexity of beauty.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Orange
“Hi baby boy, I am going to sit down and write next to you while you go to sleep”
“I want to see one Lego Star Wars”
"Nope I am going to write about the color orange”
“I like the color orange”
“Yes I know you do, Now go to sleep Griffin”
“Yes! You typed my name”
“Now will you go to sleep?”
“I can’t”
“OK” I say and close the computer.
We snuggle down under the orange patch work quilt with the picture of a griffin a painted in the middle square that his grand mother made for him.
“What is orange” I ask him.
“A color, I don’t know how to spell it. OOO it starts with ‘O’.” he says
“ You are right but what things are orange?” I clarify.
“ An orange shirt is orange, an orange is orange, the sun is mostly orange, an orange house, orange pants, orange socks, orange crayons....” he rattles off many things all started by the adjective orange. in the process he pains an entire car and and entire house orange including the windows of each.
As a younger child he seemed to love the color orange so he indeed had orange shirts and socks. He does not list as he begins to drift off saying “orange orange orange clouds, orange pumpkin, orange orange orange....” the orange coat that he got one year.
I was a cozy coat made more for the weather of California in winter than for that of his Wisconsin home. It was a reversible fleece jacket that one side was a medium gray soft brushed nylon with accents of the dark burnt orange fleece and the other the dark burnt orange fleece with accents of the gray. He loved it so much that we had to layer him through out the winter so he could wear it through the winter.
I was always amazed that he liked the color. It is a color that many don’t like and many don’t choose as a favorite. But it was his and still is a preferred color but he has now bowed to the peer pressure of picking more blues, greens, and blacks for his attire.
“I want to see one Lego Star Wars”
"Nope I am going to write about the color orange”
“I like the color orange”
“Yes I know you do, Now go to sleep Griffin”
“Yes! You typed my name”
“Now will you go to sleep?”
“I can’t”
“OK” I say and close the computer.
We snuggle down under the orange patch work quilt with the picture of a griffin a painted in the middle square that his grand mother made for him.
“What is orange” I ask him.
“A color, I don’t know how to spell it. OOO it starts with ‘O’.” he says
“ You are right but what things are orange?” I clarify.
“ An orange shirt is orange, an orange is orange, the sun is mostly orange, an orange house, orange pants, orange socks, orange crayons....” he rattles off many things all started by the adjective orange. in the process he pains an entire car and and entire house orange including the windows of each.
As a younger child he seemed to love the color orange so he indeed had orange shirts and socks. He does not list as he begins to drift off saying “orange orange orange clouds, orange pumpkin, orange orange orange....” the orange coat that he got one year.
I was a cozy coat made more for the weather of California in winter than for that of his Wisconsin home. It was a reversible fleece jacket that one side was a medium gray soft brushed nylon with accents of the dark burnt orange fleece and the other the dark burnt orange fleece with accents of the gray. He loved it so much that we had to layer him through out the winter so he could wear it through the winter.
I was always amazed that he liked the color. It is a color that many don’t like and many don’t choose as a favorite. But it was his and still is a preferred color but he has now bowed to the peer pressure of picking more blues, greens, and blacks for his attire.
A colorful week.
I am falling short just now but in an effort to streatch and star with a simpler prompt idea but with a wider array of options I have decided that I will have the next few days as colors...Ready?
Monday - Orange
Tuesday - yellow
Wednesday - green
Thursday - blue
Friday - Purple
Saturday - Black
Why no red well I feel like I did read with the surprise box.
So I guess I have a list for the rest of October...
Next will be November.
I will return to my ghost story just a few days I am thinking about 1000 words total....then some more prompts. 250 words a day fro all of November. Please come kick my butt.
Monday - Orange
Tuesday - yellow
Wednesday - green
Thursday - blue
Friday - Purple
Saturday - Black
Why no red well I feel like I did read with the surprise box.
So I guess I have a list for the rest of October...
Next will be November.
I will return to my ghost story just a few days I am thinking about 1000 words total....then some more prompts. 250 words a day fro all of November. Please come kick my butt.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
10 minutes with a fall memory.
* I really only spent 10 minutes plus 5 to correct some glaring mistakes on this*
The two freshman girls stagger out of the frat house arm in arm. They are giggling profusely.
“They are so nice” Viv exclaims.
“Yeah but you know what they want.” Suzy giggles.
“Well not Steve” Viv says putting her hands on her hips.
“Yeah, I know” Suzy says rolling her eyes.
They are making slow progress on the very short walk to the dorms. It is obvious to most that they have had enough to drink to make them extra giggly and reduce their inhibitions.
They stop hanging on to each other as much for warmth in the cold late night fall air as much for the wobbliness that the cranberry juice and southern comfort has made their legs.
“Are you going back to John’s room or your room, Suzy” asks Viv
“Well I’ll check on him and then I should go to bed. But not if the light is off. I can’t see from here.” She replies
Well lets go that way
They take three steps forward and see something in their path pause. Almost simultaneously the stop, their neck snapping to look at each other.
“LEAF PILE!” they yell.
Grasping hands they run towards it and in an ungraceful slipping sliding falling motion land flat on their back in the pile.
“Leaf Angel!” yell Viv.They scissor their arms and legs like children do to make angel figures in the snow.
They loose the motion as they erupting in to raucous laughter half buried in the pile of leaves.
“This is going to hurt in the morning Suzy”
“Yeah but I would never do this in Cali Viv too many snakes”
Viv leaps up Pulling Suzy after her. LAughing they walk towards the Dorms.
The two freshman girls stagger out of the frat house arm in arm. They are giggling profusely.
“They are so nice” Viv exclaims.
“Yeah but you know what they want.” Suzy giggles.
“Well not Steve” Viv says putting her hands on her hips.
“Yeah, I know” Suzy says rolling her eyes.
They are making slow progress on the very short walk to the dorms. It is obvious to most that they have had enough to drink to make them extra giggly and reduce their inhibitions.
They stop hanging on to each other as much for warmth in the cold late night fall air as much for the wobbliness that the cranberry juice and southern comfort has made their legs.
“Are you going back to John’s room or your room, Suzy” asks Viv
“Well I’ll check on him and then I should go to bed. But not if the light is off. I can’t see from here.” She replies
Well lets go that way
They take three steps forward and see something in their path pause. Almost simultaneously the stop, their neck snapping to look at each other.
“LEAF PILE!” they yell.
Grasping hands they run towards it and in an ungraceful slipping sliding falling motion land flat on their back in the pile.
“Leaf Angel!” yell Viv.They scissor their arms and legs like children do to make angel figures in the snow.
They loose the motion as they erupting in to raucous laughter half buried in the pile of leaves.
“This is going to hurt in the morning Suzy”
“Yeah but I would never do this in Cali Viv too many snakes”
Viv leaps up Pulling Suzy after her. LAughing they walk towards the Dorms.
Got a timer...
OK I am low on free tome right now but I think I can find 10 minutes.
What is your favorite fall memory? How old were you when it happened? For 10 minutes relive that memory through writing about it as if you were right there recording it in real time.
What is your favorite fall memory? How old were you when it happened? For 10 minutes relive that memory through writing about it as if you were right there recording it in real time.
In the surprise box
I take it out of the surprise box and hold it up. It is the color of the the sunset as the colors change from oranges and yellow to deep red. It looks fragile and delicate and in time it will be dry and brittle, but right now it it supple and flexible with a touch of the useful life it so recently led. It’s surface texture reminds me of a fine leather, thin and fragile but supple and cured.
Right now it is silent but not so long ago with all of its brothers and sisters it would rustle with the wind making sounds that are so distinctive of autumn.
Lifting it to my nose I sniff it. alone it smells stale, damp. and of fresh soil. The slight musty smell of soil and decay clings to it one that in the pile that it will be consigned to will multiply and become the smell of moldering vegetation that is so comforting in autumn.
Although it is beautiful I will not taste it. But I can imagine it would taste of soil and wood.
It reminds me that the end of summer has come and that my favorite season is here no matter how cold and early it is. Soon the spooks will be out. This draws a sense of excitement and anticipation in me.
Looking carefully I decide that the wind that is is the true place for this red leaf and I release it into the wind. Dipping twisting a floating through the air it flies away.
Right now it is silent but not so long ago with all of its brothers and sisters it would rustle with the wind making sounds that are so distinctive of autumn.
Lifting it to my nose I sniff it. alone it smells stale, damp. and of fresh soil. The slight musty smell of soil and decay clings to it one that in the pile that it will be consigned to will multiply and become the smell of moldering vegetation that is so comforting in autumn.
Although it is beautiful I will not taste it. But I can imagine it would taste of soil and wood.
It reminds me that the end of summer has come and that my favorite season is here no matter how cold and early it is. Soon the spooks will be out. This draws a sense of excitement and anticipation in me.
Looking carefully I decide that the wind that is is the true place for this red leaf and I release it into the wind. Dipping twisting a floating through the air it flies away.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Elementary Prompt for 10/22/09
One of My children's kindergarten and first grade teachers traditions id the surprise box. A child is sent home with a white metal lunch box and a pad of paper. On the pad of paper are the instructions that they are to pick an object in the house and put it in the box and then finish the sentences on the next blank piece of paper with out telling what the object is. The sentence starts are:
1. It looks like
2. It sounds like
3. It smells like
4. It fells like
5. It tastes like
6. It reminds me of (edit late Thursday night for this important one)
7. It makes me feel
8. It is
These are what we always want to answer when we write.
So whats in your surprise box?
1. It looks like
2. It sounds like
3. It smells like
4. It fells like
5. It tastes like
6. It reminds me of (edit late Thursday night for this important one)
7. It makes me feel
8. It is
These are what we always want to answer when we write.
So whats in your surprise box?
Unfinished Projects.
* this is not what I expected to write this is just what came out tonight. I wanted to write about a project I want to do that I am keeping myself from starting because of unfinished similar projects *
I am sitting on my couch pondering all the things I have to do, All the things I should to, and all the thing I want to do.
The living room is such a huge mess that I actually can’t walk across it is from a project that was a need to to that has gotten about ninety-five precent done. My front window that were one of the features that sold us on this house have begun to leak and with the early cold weather we could really feel it so we put plastic on the windows. That involved clearing all the toys from the window seat and making sure that there was room to move in front of the window seat. This meant that toys became strewn across most of the rest of the room. Many of them lego constructions in various states of disrepair. After that was done the window “treatments” had to be removed. 6 strands of blue purple and mirrored shapes and the cafe style curtains. The final preparation was to dust and vacuum around the windows and then liberally use windex to wash them.
When we opened the package made a plan and began to put the double sided tape around each window. After completion of that task and some heated discussions about the numbers of pairs of scissors in the house the tape was up. We held up the sheet of plastic it looked too short. We had a long discussion about how to deal with this (as we discovered the reason to write and refer to notes and lists again) and made a plan. There were many bumps in the process but in the end the plastic was up. I used my hair dryer to “shrink” the plastic. Bill put up the curtains and that is where we stopped. Two days later the toys are still mostly on the floor and the strands of dyed shells and mirrors still sits on the table. This is often the story in our house.
Now, although, I want to write more of this and finish it nicely I am going to post this quickly before I run out the door to pick up my lovely daughter from her swim team practice. At least I will have time while I wait to read one of the 4 books I have started. Just a few pages but it will be nice.
The living room is such a huge mess that I actually can’t walk across it is from a project that was a need to to that has gotten about ninety-five precent done. My front window that were one of the features that sold us on this house have begun to leak and with the early cold weather we could really feel it so we put plastic on the windows. That involved clearing all the toys from the window seat and making sure that there was room to move in front of the window seat. This meant that toys became strewn across most of the rest of the room. Many of them lego constructions in various states of disrepair. After that was done the window “treatments” had to be removed. 6 strands of blue purple and mirrored shapes and the cafe style curtains. The final preparation was to dust and vacuum around the windows and then liberally use windex to wash them.
When we opened the package made a plan and began to put the double sided tape around each window. After completion of that task and some heated discussions about the numbers of pairs of scissors in the house the tape was up. We held up the sheet of plastic it looked too short. We had a long discussion about how to deal with this (as we discovered the reason to write and refer to notes and lists again) and made a plan. There were many bumps in the process but in the end the plastic was up. I used my hair dryer to “shrink” the plastic. Bill put up the curtains and that is where we stopped. Two days later the toys are still mostly on the floor and the strands of dyed shells and mirrors still sits on the table. This is often the story in our house.
Now, although, I want to write more of this and finish it nicely I am going to post this quickly before I run out the door to pick up my lovely daughter from her swim team practice. At least I will have time while I wait to read one of the 4 books I have started. Just a few pages but it will be nice.
*Maybe this should be called a study in ADD*
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Bad Poetry
It used to be that when I was so upset or emotionally off my rocker I write very bad poetry. It has been a long long time since I have done this. Unfortunately I had "need' to do this in the past few days. So Since I didn't write other stuff I thought I torture my readers here.
Sorry
I am curled up on the lumpy mattress
The soft warmth of the flannel sheets
Have little to warm me up
My insides are knotted and strained
The Locomotive of my brain cannot stop
My emotions pour out in rivers from my eyes
on to the bare pillow
Too angry to sleep
fighting the feeling
That wants to let in Defeat
I am not Done
There is too much at stake.
I don’t want to do this alone.
Sorry
I am curled up on the lumpy mattress
The soft warmth of the flannel sheets
Have little to warm me up
My insides are knotted and strained
The Locomotive of my brain cannot stop
My emotions pour out in rivers from my eyes
on to the bare pillow
Too angry to sleep
fighting the feeling
That wants to let in Defeat
I am not Done
There is too much at stake.
I don’t want to do this alone.
*OK I am finally posting this. Please forgive the delay much drama has happened*
I have two good memories of Halloween costumes as a kid. But the memories are vague and distant. I am not even sure if pictures exist of either of them. I would love to have pictures of both of them but I don’t have them. So I am hoping that I can convey what they were like through the feeling I have about them.
When I was about 10 I was invited to a costume party. I think it was for Halloween. My friend chelsea was having it and we spent time at school plotting and planning our costumes. I wanted to be Isis. At the time there was a TV show about Isis and she was not only a goddess but a superhero. She was beautiful and powerful every thing a young girl like me wanted to be.
I have an odd memory of my mother making me the costume. I know it was white sleeveless tress with s short skit. I know that we had gold braid that we used to make ankle and leg straps for my sandals. I can remember the feeling of the braid in my hands it was flat and smooth and rough all at the same time it was shiny and I worried about it staying up. I think I had a very egyptian collar like the one on the TV show. I remember that because it was cool I got to wear pantyhose which was quite the rite of passage. I remember feeling pretty and exited to wear it.
I think the only bad part was when I got to the party the other kids were in either store bought costumes or street clothes. I remember very little else.
The other costume I liked was when I was about 15. My younger sister Kate had picked up a pretty dress that has a floaty feel to it. I had to planned to go trick or treating but My Mom asked me to take my sister as she would rather be the person handing out candy. So I put the dress on synched it up in back to fit me. Kate French braided my hair and we had some wax or clay that we used to give me pointy ears so I could be an elf.
And off we went. I was pleased that we could come up with a costume so quickly and that I felt pretty in it.
At some point we ended up at Gary’s door. gary had been in school with me for quite a while in elementary school. We had the same birthday and I apparently have a better memory than he. As when he answered the door. His older brother elbowed him and he started to try and be suave and pique my interest. Well when I was able to use his full name and tell him his birthday he was totally unnerved his Brother was Laughing hard in the background. I took my sisters to more houses but had the satisfaction that I had a costume that could pique a boys interest and that I had sufficiently changed since elementary school. Another big win for the costume.
I have two good memories of Halloween costumes as a kid. But the memories are vague and distant. I am not even sure if pictures exist of either of them. I would love to have pictures of both of them but I don’t have them. So I am hoping that I can convey what they were like through the feeling I have about them.
When I was about 10 I was invited to a costume party. I think it was for Halloween. My friend chelsea was having it and we spent time at school plotting and planning our costumes. I wanted to be Isis. At the time there was a TV show about Isis and she was not only a goddess but a superhero. She was beautiful and powerful every thing a young girl like me wanted to be.
I have an odd memory of my mother making me the costume. I know it was white sleeveless tress with s short skit. I know that we had gold braid that we used to make ankle and leg straps for my sandals. I can remember the feeling of the braid in my hands it was flat and smooth and rough all at the same time it was shiny and I worried about it staying up. I think I had a very egyptian collar like the one on the TV show. I remember that because it was cool I got to wear pantyhose which was quite the rite of passage. I remember feeling pretty and exited to wear it.
I think the only bad part was when I got to the party the other kids were in either store bought costumes or street clothes. I remember very little else.
The other costume I liked was when I was about 15. My younger sister Kate had picked up a pretty dress that has a floaty feel to it. I had to planned to go trick or treating but My Mom asked me to take my sister as she would rather be the person handing out candy. So I put the dress on synched it up in back to fit me. Kate French braided my hair and we had some wax or clay that we used to give me pointy ears so I could be an elf.
And off we went. I was pleased that we could come up with a costume so quickly and that I felt pretty in it.
At some point we ended up at Gary’s door. gary had been in school with me for quite a while in elementary school. We had the same birthday and I apparently have a better memory than he. As when he answered the door. His older brother elbowed him and he started to try and be suave and pique my interest. Well when I was able to use his full name and tell him his birthday he was totally unnerved his Brother was Laughing hard in the background. I took my sisters to more houses but had the satisfaction that I had a costume that could pique a boys interest and that I had sufficiently changed since elementary school. Another big win for the costume.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
For 10.16.09 something topical!
Thinking back to your childhood and the many Halloween costumes you wore, which costume was your favorite and why?
What did you want for a christmas gift as a child?
I don’t remember many Christmas is or the gifts I got. were were not well off often we just got what we needed wrapped in the funny pages for Christmas maybe one big toy and with three girl who had birthdays in November we had combination Birthday Christmas gifts on several occasions. I don though remember on particular gift.
I have always been a girl with a passion for electronic toys. In the late 1970s or very early 1980s I wanted a Merlin electronic game. It’s red plastic hand held electronic goodness was shaped like a large telephone hand set. It even had buttons like a telephone. These round buttons unlike a telephone of the day were recessed into the hand set in square holes the were not like the buttons that many were used to the lit up red when presses or at other times sometimes flashing sometimes solid. the red light was ringed with a grey doughnut shaped frame reminiscent of the white hole protecters that keep paper from pulling out three ring binders. The top “ear piece” was trapezoidal in shape as was the “mouth piece”. The top housed the speaker that played the tones that were created as you played the games. The bottom had four button that were game settings.
Several of my friend had the game and we would play it on the bus, but I wanted my own. I already was a fan of arcade games and being a kid who had little pocket money and little occasion to go to places that had them I felt I needed a game of my own. I hinted and begged and talked about it constantly. My early December Birthday came and went. I got a Dungeon and Dragon boxed set so I figured that I would not get a Merlin for Christmas. How could I be that lucky. So in the few remaining weeks I played with my friends games and dreamt of having my own.
Christmas morning was reminiscent of the scene from “A Christmas Story” the not so pretty hand made gift (mom made) underwear and socks books from Dad and Money from the grandparents. Not enough for a Merlin. I thought about ways to get money to get the game when My dad in what has become his classic fashion produces 4 more gifts one for each of us girl and one for my mom.
My brick shaped gift was heavy and I could hardly contain my anxiety. Could it be it was the right shape but I could not imagine My dad spending that kind of money on a toy for me.
To this day I have no clue what anyone else got. It was the shiny red Merlin dad had even opened it up ind put batteries in it.
Looking back on it from 2009 it was very simple but required a bit more human memory power than you average electronic game now. You had to know what the games were or carry the instruction book with you. It did have a list on the back but no instruction of how to play them. It has six games in it and all could be played on its 11 light up buttons very simple games. I loved them all. It was the best gift ever.
I have always been a girl with a passion for electronic toys. In the late 1970s or very early 1980s I wanted a Merlin electronic game. It’s red plastic hand held electronic goodness was shaped like a large telephone hand set. It even had buttons like a telephone. These round buttons unlike a telephone of the day were recessed into the hand set in square holes the were not like the buttons that many were used to the lit up red when presses or at other times sometimes flashing sometimes solid. the red light was ringed with a grey doughnut shaped frame reminiscent of the white hole protecters that keep paper from pulling out three ring binders. The top “ear piece” was trapezoidal in shape as was the “mouth piece”. The top housed the speaker that played the tones that were created as you played the games. The bottom had four button that were game settings.
Several of my friend had the game and we would play it on the bus, but I wanted my own. I already was a fan of arcade games and being a kid who had little pocket money and little occasion to go to places that had them I felt I needed a game of my own. I hinted and begged and talked about it constantly. My early December Birthday came and went. I got a Dungeon and Dragon boxed set so I figured that I would not get a Merlin for Christmas. How could I be that lucky. So in the few remaining weeks I played with my friends games and dreamt of having my own.
Christmas morning was reminiscent of the scene from “A Christmas Story” the not so pretty hand made gift (mom made) underwear and socks books from Dad and Money from the grandparents. Not enough for a Merlin. I thought about ways to get money to get the game when My dad in what has become his classic fashion produces 4 more gifts one for each of us girl and one for my mom.
My brick shaped gift was heavy and I could hardly contain my anxiety. Could it be it was the right shape but I could not imagine My dad spending that kind of money on a toy for me.
To this day I have no clue what anyone else got. It was the shiny red Merlin dad had even opened it up ind put batteries in it.
Looking back on it from 2009 it was very simple but required a bit more human memory power than you average electronic game now. You had to know what the games were or carry the instruction book with you. It did have a list on the back but no instruction of how to play them. It has six games in it and all could be played on its 11 light up buttons very simple games. I loved them all. It was the best gift ever.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Prompt for Thursday.......
I am ahead of schedule for me.
What did you want for Christmas as a child? (courtesy of Ned.)
for the over achiever in me...(cause Heather says I am one)
What is the worst Christmas gift you ever got? What did you do with it?
What did you want for Christmas as a child? (courtesy of Ned.)
for the over achiever in me...(cause Heather says I am one)
What is the worst Christmas gift you ever got? What did you do with it?
A prompt A prompt my kingdom for a prompt!
So I am feeling lack luster about the prompts I am seeing tonight.
So some one give me a prompt.
Or 5.
What shall I write tomorrow.
So some one give me a prompt.
Or 5.
What shall I write tomorrow.
Why didn't you do it?
1.
I an so sorry. I could have done it and I should have done it. Unfortunately the couch was cozy and inviting and the blanket looked warm and the house so peaceful. After very little debate I just sat on the cushy couch and snuggled up under the toasty blanket and grabbed a good book. It is a very good book instead and I lost track of time out side of the book. So I am sorry but tonight I will cook a pizza from the freezer.
2.
I know I should have
But I really could not do
You wanted me to
3.
I am lazy and I really hate to wash the dishes. So when I cook a meal I hope that some one else will. So on the days that happen where I cook more than one night in a row the dishes don’t get done. Because I hate to do them and just wont do it. It’s my house after all.
4.
Why didn’t I do what?
There are many things I have done
and many others I have not.
So of the many things I have not done
which one thing do you mean?
Oh that.
I meant to really and I just forgot.
5. (excuses)
I forgot
I didn’t want to
It wasn’t my job
I did it but I lost it
My dog ate it.
It was yucky
I told you you couldn’t make me do it.
I was too busy.
I had to work
I was sick
My cat puked on it.
My sister called.
I lost track of time.
I only had time for one.
I an so sorry. I could have done it and I should have done it. Unfortunately the couch was cozy and inviting and the blanket looked warm and the house so peaceful. After very little debate I just sat on the cushy couch and snuggled up under the toasty blanket and grabbed a good book. It is a very good book instead and I lost track of time out side of the book. So I am sorry but tonight I will cook a pizza from the freezer.
2.
I know I should have
But I really could not do
You wanted me to
3.
I am lazy and I really hate to wash the dishes. So when I cook a meal I hope that some one else will. So on the days that happen where I cook more than one night in a row the dishes don’t get done. Because I hate to do them and just wont do it. It’s my house after all.
4.
Why didn’t I do what?
There are many things I have done
and many others I have not.
So of the many things I have not done
which one thing do you mean?
Oh that.
I meant to really and I just forgot.
5. (excuses)
I forgot
I didn’t want to
It wasn’t my job
I did it but I lost it
My dog ate it.
It was yucky
I told you you couldn’t make me do it.
I was too busy.
I had to work
I was sick
My cat puked on it.
My sister called.
I lost track of time.
I only had time for one.
Prompt for 10/14/09
This one is simple and I might have more than one little blurb.
Why didn't you do it?
Why didn't you do it?
Here is the second part which I have the feeling will be separated from the last part by another part and there will be more later on. Again I am putting this away until November. And will work on it then. I hope you will see that there is a slight voice change here. although not entirely intentional I think it will be something that will continue to change. If you have any thought on that let me know.
The movers have left the boxes have been either emptied or moved to the basement. We have hung some warm blankets over the windows that seem to let in a frigid draft. but for the most part the smell of burning dust has left the air and the furnace is keeping the house cozy.
Having abandoned the fireplace a a primary source of warmth we have gotten the upstairs warm enough to get our daughter bathed. she is exited to be able to “swim” in the new tub. she loves bath time and we have made sure that the bath toys are unpacked. As I get her bath ready my husband get her bed made and find some bed time stories. The little quite cherub of a 3 year old follows me around the house. She is clingy and I am mystified by this as always. She was so exited and bubbly about the new house and ran around it before dinner but now she seem very cautious and nervous. Ah well her mercurial moods are always a mystery to me.
I kneel down to start to fill the tub my usually happy to get in the bath girl. Pulls me away from the tub.
“I don’t like that bath Mommy its scary.”
“Why is it scary sweetie?”
“Its cold and has shadows in it.”
As I turn back toward the tub a dark black shadow flits across the tub and disappears. My daughter has not moved and there is no one else in the room.
“Uhhh, Ok Sweetie, lets skip the bath tonight. Lets go to bed” I stammer as I scoop her up a little unnerved that I am jumpy because of a shadow.
We go into her bed room and I realize that the hall and the room are much warmer than the bathroom was.
“What no bath tonight in the new tub?”
“No Daddy” she say with such assurance he looks surprised.
“Yeah it is really cold in there.” I say feeling that is the lamest thing I could say just now. My husband and I lock eyes and he know that something is wrong.
We get her ready for bed and in an untypical fashion I stay through story time and we all cuddle in bed feeling the warmth and coziness of the room. I feel like something is waiting for us somewhere out side the warmth and security of this room.
The movers have left the boxes have been either emptied or moved to the basement. We have hung some warm blankets over the windows that seem to let in a frigid draft. but for the most part the smell of burning dust has left the air and the furnace is keeping the house cozy.
Having abandoned the fireplace a a primary source of warmth we have gotten the upstairs warm enough to get our daughter bathed. she is exited to be able to “swim” in the new tub. she loves bath time and we have made sure that the bath toys are unpacked. As I get her bath ready my husband get her bed made and find some bed time stories. The little quite cherub of a 3 year old follows me around the house. She is clingy and I am mystified by this as always. She was so exited and bubbly about the new house and ran around it before dinner but now she seem very cautious and nervous. Ah well her mercurial moods are always a mystery to me.
I kneel down to start to fill the tub my usually happy to get in the bath girl. Pulls me away from the tub.
“I don’t like that bath Mommy its scary.”
“Why is it scary sweetie?”
“Its cold and has shadows in it.”
As I turn back toward the tub a dark black shadow flits across the tub and disappears. My daughter has not moved and there is no one else in the room.
“Uhhh, Ok Sweetie, lets skip the bath tonight. Lets go to bed” I stammer as I scoop her up a little unnerved that I am jumpy because of a shadow.
We go into her bed room and I realize that the hall and the room are much warmer than the bathroom was.
“What no bath tonight in the new tub?”
“No Daddy” she say with such assurance he looks surprised.
“Yeah it is really cold in there.” I say feeling that is the lamest thing I could say just now. My husband and I lock eyes and he know that something is wrong.
We get her ready for bed and in an untypical fashion I stay through story time and we all cuddle in bed feeling the warmth and coziness of the room. I feel like something is waiting for us somewhere out side the warmth and security of this room.
Monday, October 12, 2009
My right hand aches as we drive into the short but steep driveway. The most painful part about buying a house is signing the papers on closing day. Reams and reams of papers. I have never been happier that I changed my name when I got married. Short was so much better today.
We turn and grin at each other. With our little girl in daycare and the day off we plan to spend the day alone in our new house. We press the button on the garage door opener and watch it open. although it has only been a couple hours since we last saw the garage it seems so much bigger.
The door from the garage into the house seems to swing closed.
“Did you see that?” I ask out loud.
“See what?” My Husband responds
“The door moved, like it just closed”
“It was probably just the change in air pressure with the garage door opening”
“Of course it was”
We park in the garage and get the mop and the bucket out of the trunk.
We walk to the door into the house from the garage. it is locked and the keys don’t seem to work. We decide that it is better to go through the front door. We leave the cleaning supplies in the garage and walk to the front door. Grinning we unlock the door together and before I can protest my husband picks me up to carry me over the threshold. As he dose the March wind whips up and catches the screen door and swings into both of us. My feet find the front door and stop it as it starts to swing shut.
Laughing we push the door back and enter the house. It cold with out occupant the heat has been off or very low, and a midwestern spring brings snow and frigid temperatures. Neither of us can remember where the thermostat is. But as we will be working downstairs we decide we will turn on the gas fireplace.
We go to the den and turn on the fire place and is comes on with a high faint squeal. It is an unearthly noise that seem like a protest as the gas begins to flow through the pipes and ignite. The house is waking up and coming back to life having sat empty for several months. We hold our hands out towards the fire and the warmth from the blue flames behind the glass spread across our faces and hands.
We go about the house mopping the floors checking the faucets and the pipes. getting the cob webs down. putting any big spiders outside in the woods in the back. The wind makes the trees creak against each other and it seems like they welcome the spiders in a very eerie way.
After a few hours the house, although empty, feels warm and like it will be home. The movers will start tomorrow and it will be two days before we have all our stuff here from our apartment.
We go back to the car and get the sleeping bags, new shower curtains, floor lamps, and the few other thing we have brought over to make this place seem like ours.
We spread the sleeping bag on the floor and plug in the floor lamp in the den as it is getting darker. We have an hour before we need to pick up our daughter and head back to finish packing up the apartment.
The light and warmth of the fire flood the room with a romantic glow. We cuddle up on the sleeping bags looking at the fire and he begins to stroke my back. I turn to meet his kiss when there is a loud crash from up stairs.
We both jump up and run to the stairs. The mop and bucket have tipped over in the bathroom and the dirty mop water has spilled and is soaking into hall the carpet. We grab the few rags that we have and wring out the mop trying to soak up the water and stop the mess before it gets worse. Somehow we mange it but it has killed the romantic mood.
Once we get it cleaned up we realize it is time to go get our daughter and head back to the apartment for dinner. We turn off the fireplace and close up everything for the night. We leave the sleeping bag on the floor, It makes the room more feel more inviting and less empty.
Next part is here. Edits made 11/1/09.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Now for something a little different prompt for 10/12/09
You've recently purchased a new house. Upon your first full night there, you begin to hear noises but think nothing of it—until you see something that convinces you the house is haunted.
OK so I am skipping 10/11/09 but 10/10/09 took me longer than I expected.
I am looking forward to writing a little drabble of a ghost story. I am sure that some familiar stories of mine will creep into this.
OK so I am skipping 10/11/09 but 10/10/09 took me longer than I expected.
I am looking forward to writing a little drabble of a ghost story. I am sure that some familiar stories of mine will creep into this.
What Peronality type...for 10/10/09 a little late
He walks into the room his mannerisms, self-confidence, and clothing tell me he is a charmer. Many people will want to be his friend and he will be friendly and charming but he will not spend more time than is necessary with any one he doesn’t want or need something from.
He will talk to everyone and get more information from them than they mean to give they won’t mind and will find him charming and delightful. He will work any room looking fro the “right” people, people who will get him what he wants a job a n important connection, a warm and inviting bed. He thinks himself above most people and sees them as means to an end.
Many are taken in by his charm. See him as engaging, interesting smart and good to have around. He gives only what he thinks will get him what he wants. Often he will make up stories and promises that will not help but will not hurt. But they are what the person wants to hear and they are grateful to get the “information” he gives.
He always does exactly what is necessary no more no less. But only if it gives him something he wants.
He always takes the easy way even if it is “against the rules” but he will work hard to keep from getting caught. He has a knack for getting people to do things for him with out questioning it. No one ever want to get him “in trouble” so those who know that he is doing thing a little wrong wont tell those who may censure him.
He leaves a trail of broken hearts. Breaking them with what he calls truth but what is more just a series of emotional sabotage so that they almost welcome the break.
When he does get what he wants he is possessive. Denying others claim to what ever “it” is.
He never takes me in but I have seen others so besotted and taken it that they think my warnings and evidence of deceit are seen as my fault and my making. Some have come to see what I have seen much later but by then the damage is done.
He has come into my life three times, in three different guises. And I am ashamed that I revel in his loses and mistakes. Twice he has come into my professional life and caused me problems. Once he has entered my family’s life and hurt them. Now he has married a friend and I worry for her and their children.
He will talk to everyone and get more information from them than they mean to give they won’t mind and will find him charming and delightful. He will work any room looking fro the “right” people, people who will get him what he wants a job a n important connection, a warm and inviting bed. He thinks himself above most people and sees them as means to an end.
Many are taken in by his charm. See him as engaging, interesting smart and good to have around. He gives only what he thinks will get him what he wants. Often he will make up stories and promises that will not help but will not hurt. But they are what the person wants to hear and they are grateful to get the “information” he gives.
He always does exactly what is necessary no more no less. But only if it gives him something he wants.
He always takes the easy way even if it is “against the rules” but he will work hard to keep from getting caught. He has a knack for getting people to do things for him with out questioning it. No one ever want to get him “in trouble” so those who know that he is doing thing a little wrong wont tell those who may censure him.
He leaves a trail of broken hearts. Breaking them with what he calls truth but what is more just a series of emotional sabotage so that they almost welcome the break.
When he does get what he wants he is possessive. Denying others claim to what ever “it” is.
He never takes me in but I have seen others so besotted and taken it that they think my warnings and evidence of deceit are seen as my fault and my making. Some have come to see what I have seen much later but by then the damage is done.
He has come into my life three times, in three different guises. And I am ashamed that I revel in his loses and mistakes. Twice he has come into my professional life and caused me problems. Once he has entered my family’s life and hurt them. Now he has married a friend and I worry for her and their children.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Prompt for 10/10/09
"What personality type(s) drive you crazy?"
See you tomorrow with the answer.....
See you tomorrow with the answer.....
Dear Vicki,
I am sorry, but the time for me to leave has come. I have overheard you talking to him, about my physical condition and my shabby appearance. This has made feel that your love for me has ended.
Through the passage of time I have changed, as have you. This is the nature of time and our relationship has not changed as much, could this have hurt us? Through three moves and many changes in positions I have been supportive of you. You found me more comfortable to sleep on me than your bed at time during both of your pregnancies. And most days at the end of the day you curled up with me often with your head on my arm.
Now you have noted aloud a threadbare spot where you sit and the lack of padding on my arms. The spots and stains that you and the children have wrought on me are noticeable. Yes I am getting old but I had hoped that you would find our long relationship worth more and not just discard me and replace with one much younger. It sounds so simple coming from your mouth as you talk to him. I know it will hurt me more than you.
So to save us both more pain and ease you decision. I have decided to leave. I have a lot of life still left in me although I may need some patching to my upholstery and some deep cleaning I know I could make another family happy. I may even go for the ultimate makeover and get recovered.
Good-bye and good luck, Tell the kids I love them even when they climbed and jumped on me. Vicki, you have left an impression on me that will last, your ass groove will always be a part of me now.
Love,
The Couch.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Prompt for 10/9/09
You return home from work to find a "Dear John" letter on your kitchen table. Oddly enough, it is from one of your favorite pieces of furniture. What does the letter say?
-from Writer's Digest
-from Writer's Digest
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Who is Your Oldest Friend?
My oldest friend is Holly E MacKay. We met (we are told) when we were nine months old. We looked a lot alike. We have an odd sisterly relationship often awkward and unsure but at the same time comfortable when we get to see each other. Sadly we have not seen each other for more than four years. We exchange comments and the very occasional note on facebook.
You see, I have never been very good at keeping in touch with people. If they are present and keep contact coming my way I am usually very good at responding. But the moment there is a lag I drop the ball, hard. By the magic of facebook has opened the world up for me to renew and keep friendships alive better than ever before. in some ways helping me solve this problem. Even with facebook I have very few childhood friends that I have managed to keep up with. This isn’t because I have not cared for these past friends. I have spent many an hour wondering what happened to this one or that one. There are many that I can remember only a face, a first name, or where they lived, and very little else, other than an odd feeling that at one time this image, name or place was very important, loved or special to me, for some reason.
I think this is because when I was younger and dependent on my parents for a roof and food. We moved a lot. My friends changed with every move. Even when I returned to the same school after an absence, I would find a new group of kids to be with.
This has meant that my close friends have changed over time. Things are a bit different now though. Having now lived in the same general area for more than 17 years and been married for 12 of those I have managed to have some close friends that I have held on to for a long time. The degree of the closeness does change over time ebbing and flowing as our lives change now so very connected to our nuclear families (and even sometimes our extended families).
Even with all this change the end of the day when all is said and done my closest and most faithful friend is my husband. As cheesy and sappy as that sound it is the truth. Something I learned though is that you need other friendships to support and balance your best ones. So even if I have ones that ebb and flow I have this one very important one to hang on to.
Prompt for 10/8/09
Who is your oldest friend (i.e., the friend you have known the longest)? How often do you see or talk to each other? Do your close friends tend to stay the same year after year or change over time?
Stay tuned for the post tomorrow!
Stay tuned for the post tomorrow!
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