Thursday October 31st, 2013

The exercise:

Write a letter that begins with: Dear _____

Fill in the blank as you see fit. Or you can be a smart ass literalist and leave it blank. Up to you.

I spent a portion of the morning pulling up the sunflowers in our back garden, which I'm happy to report I got to before the ground froze solid (unlike previous years). Then I did a bit of raking of leaves and rotting walnuts (we've harvested what we need and don't have the time or energy to deal with the rest) in the front yard.

This afternoon I took Max in to town to run a few errands and to give Kat some time to herself before we brought him over to a friend's house for a Halloween party.

All of which lead to me writing the following.

Mine:

Dear Dada,

It is, as I understand it, one week until my birthday. Now, as it is my very first one, I'll admit to not fully understanding how it works. But after the events of today, I do have a few questions.

Will people be dressed up in strange outfits for the entire week leading up to my birthday? And, if so, can I expect this to happen every year, or is this just a special situation, what with it being my first?

I'm not sure I understand what the cashier at the grocery store was thinking. She was dressed up like she works in the army but if that was really true, why was she working at the checkout line? And that camouflage paint on her face would work well in a jungle or something like that... but there? Maybe she should have gone with some bananas on one cheek and a box of cereal on the other, don't you think?

And was it just me, or were you mad at that other cashier (the one with the pointy black hat) for offering me a lollipop? Was it a yucky tasting lollipop? Why would she offer me a yucky one? Or were you just upset that she didn't offer you one? Don't worry, Dada, I totally would have shared mine with you!

That party was fun tonight, but I did not care for how you looked in that pirate wig. Please don't ever grow your hair out that long for real. It does not work for you at all. Plus we all know I'd just yank on it until you were completely bald.

Finally, my costume was all right, I guess. As long as I don't have to wear it all week. You and Mama certainly seemed to enjoy yourselves when I was wearing it.



Okay, I think that's everything. Curiously yours,

Max

5 Comments:

Greg said...

No pictures of the pirate wig? Shame!
I guess it would all have been a bit confusing for Max, but from the picture it looks like he had a good time trying to figure it all out! And his letter made me laugh; I look forward to when he's writing them out himself instead of dictating to you :-P

Dear Mr. Lincoln,
I wish you good health and trust that this letter finds you both relaxed and well. I am sure that the running of a mighty country, young in spirit and, as such, filled with the effevescence of youth, is not an easy task, and I must confess my admiration that you do it so well, and with such outstanding charm.
Flattery notwithstanding, I hope to entice you to a momentary pause in the making of decisions of state, and invite you to an evening's entertainment, a brief respite, if you will, from the weighty thoughts of a noble statesmen. Should you find yourself available, I would like to invite you to Ford's theatre on Friday evening, to view a charming piece called Our American Cousin.
Yours in the greatest of hopes and anticipation,
...

writebite said...

mine...

Dear B...
After you passed away, I wrote a letter to you asking for a sorry, which I
never got in life, actually, I said, it is really a sorry to "her" as that
was to whom your past cruelty was directed. I also said "and while you are at it,
a sorry to your first children is in order", (not that I am a judge or anything
but while you are in the frame of soul to think about things, why not throw
that in as well?)
So, I left it at that. I even deleted the letter.

Then I heard that Beatle song, No Reply, (a group you loved back then), which I initially thought was about you being upset at your first woman for what happened way back then. Then I looked at the lyrics, and felt that you tried to gain access to her in the now but there was no
reply.
So yesterday I am doing housework to my phone set on random music and I got
the Madonna song, American Life, and in the back ground a man is singing
"sorry, sorry, sorry", over and over!
Then this morning I went to the shops and a big bus loomed in front of me at
the crossing and on its destination sign was the word - "sorry". Then, at the post office, there was a Xmas chocolates tin with the word "sorry" on it!

I guess I have my sorry. Thank you.
Done and dusted.
It is never too late.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

I've been destressing from Fulbright applications by starting on something of a new-ish adventure. and, as it happens, one of the posts I wrote for her one of the last few nights was a letter to her cousin. I apologize that it's very info-specific, but hopefully it doesn't detract too much.
- - - - - - - - - - -
dear Katie,

hopefully this letter finds you well... and indeed, I hope it finds you at all. but the wibbly-wobbly all seems to work out to get between us.

fall finds my little desert home... weird. I mean, weirder than usual. a neighboring corporation has bought the community radio station, and it's kind of turned the whole town inside out. and in some cases this is literally true, unfortunately. you've heard me talk about how Night Vale's weird? this corp.--and the town it owns--is in its own visceral bucket of crazy. these folks put the Vogons and the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation to shame. imagine Vogon sensibilities radiating enough "cheer" for two suns, and slip in the creeping shadow of thought that some of these folks might actually be evil. they'd say they weren't, but that must be expected of looming executives and the viscous, amorphous manifestation of the corp. in question.

and don't get me started on their radio host. that's a story for the next time I see you, when I'll be able to tell it properly.

but enough bad news! Even after a couple years here, I've really started meeting some folks. one of the newer managers at the record shop is a saint--he saved my skin when inspection rolled around--and is overall good people. then this hooded figure chap came into the shop--you remember the hooded figures?--and I swear up and down to Almighty Bob he is ridiculously adorable. these are such mysterious and feared and weirdly-admired creatures, and what is he called? Ted. and he's such a sweetheart. I've been helping him pick out some music, but given his sort we have to do some experimenting. if he touches CDs, they basically get microwaved; and tapes melt, but to a consistency of mercury. but records! I haven't figured out if he can touch vinyl, but he makes the record sound both ancient and present. it's a very weird, very wonderful sensation.
(cont....)

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

(cont)
I've also met the head librarian---and the entity of the Library itself. you actually saved me when I met her, so thanks for that. ^^ there's also one of the tattoo artists, she's also a sweetheart. she does tattoos very, very differently, even than anything we've seen out and around. they're their own life, in a way. it's absolutely fascinating. she also has fantastic taste in tea. you'd love her.

and I've finally met Carlos. well, one of the Carloses (Carlosii?)... there're a surprisingly high number of them running around. and I think I've met one of the right ones--I may have let our "hometown" slip, and while he wants to learn more Because Science, he's promised not to do anything untoward. you know better than I, folks positively leap at the chance this guy has, and they no more of a sense of morals than a whelk's chance in a supernova.

don't worry, I'll be careful.

a recommendation: once you can, I recommend taking your friends to The Message. and if you bump into any angels, double check to see if they go by Erika (be sure to pronounce the K, it's important), and see if any of them are familiar with a lady called Josie. those were Night Vale's angels. ^^

you know, I'm really missing some of our old hitching mates. just because you get a more consistent signal, would you mind dropping them a line? I think they might like it here. they're less likely to get funny looks.

I'm looking forward to hearing more of your adventures. all else I can say is that the desert's still toasty, the stars are still gorgeous, and I wish on the lights that pass overhead that I get to see you soon.

- lucy,
with all of my strange love <3

Marc said...

Greg - it's the same as the one in this picture (though I skipped the eye patch this year):
http://daily-writing.blogspot.ca/2011/10/monday-october-31st-2011.html

Leaving your letter unsigned adds a rather interesting touch. Sinister, perhaps.

Writebite - enjoyed that the theme of the letter appeared throughout, without being excessive.

Good to have you writing with us again :)

g2 - that's a fascinating look into the world you're building around these characters. Thanks for sharing it :)