Tuesday February 28th, 2017

The exercise:

Write two haiku about something that is: uncertain.

Took the boys to Parent and Tot at the community centre this morning, which they both enjoyed. Contemplated getting groceries with the both of them this afternoon, then came to my senses.

With Miles not wanting to go in his stroller or sit in the grocery cart, my options for a reasonable shopping experience were limited. And they all included Max's full cooperation.

So we stayed close to home for the rest of the day instead.

Mine:

It's hard to explain
the way I feel about you.
It's not love. I think...

*     *     *

The universe is
too vast for us to be all
alone in it... right?

Monday February 27th, 2017

The exercise:

Write something that has to do with a: stuffed animal.

Inspired by something Max did, I'm sure. Can't recall exactly what at the moment.

Hey, look at us, almost all the way through another February. Good job, us!

As Greg has already spotted, I took some time this morning to get caught up on comments once again. Wasn't planning on getting all the way through the backlog, but momentum was on my side and I figured I'd better go with it while I could.

Spending most of tomorrow with the boys while Kat gets some counselling work done. We'll see what sort of trouble we can get up to.

Mine:

Hold me close,
Squeeze me tight;
You know I'll keep
You safe at night.

I will check
Under your bed
And keep the monsters
Out of your head.

If you just can't
Close your eyes,
I'll sing for you
A lullaby.

So sleep well,
Dream big, relax!
Because I've always
Got your back.

Sunday February 26th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the dream-catcher.

Sorry, just finally got around to watching Inception. Needed to use a prompt that was at least somewhat related.

Had a good time at the birthday party this afternoon. They had it at a nearby hotel so that the kids could go swimming in the pool. Also: I think the not needing to clean up afterward thing played a part.

So. Emersyn is one now. Which means Miles is less than seven weeks away from that number.

Goodness. Me.

Mine:

We are a nation of dreamers. We dream big. We dream with gusto and greed and a deep rooted desire for the very best that life has to offer.

Don't worry, I'm not judging anyone here. All these fat, bloated dreams floating around make my job easier. They're just so easy to catch.

It's the little dreamers I have to worry about. Their dreams are not so obvious. It's like they're trying to sneak these little pebbles by, hidden amongst the lumbering boulders of those sleepers who envision themselves at the peak of the mountain.

Which mountain, you ask? Any mountain will do for most. All the mountains are required by some.

But not these pesky little dreamers. They are more subtle, more clever. They understand that the true path to all of these grand end goals is through a nearly endless succession of little steps. Don't dream of the penthouse when you're mopping the lobby floor. That's too big a stretch.

Dream instead of a raise. A promotion. Recognition for all that hard work you do, day in and day out. Climb higher and higher, one rung at a time.

Don't try to leap frog all the way to the top in one foolish bound. Sure, some will pull that off. Cling to the edge by their fingertips. But the vast majority - the overwhelming majority - will fall.

And it is a nasty landing, let me assure you.

It's the one rung at a time dreamers that keep me awake at night. They will reach their goals, given enough time. If their determination is strong enough. If their will is unbending.

Those are the ones I am paid to stop.

Saturday February 25th, 2017

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: snowbirds.

Had six loaves left at end of day today, and a lot of bits and pieces left of other stuff. Not bad, just another expected inconsistent day for this time of year.

Don't get me wrong, by the way. I don't miss the summer madness. I'm just very fond of selling everything that was baked each day.

Looking forward to attending my youngest niece's first birthday party tomorrow afternoon. Emersyn's actual birthday was on Thursday but tomorrow is the first day everyone is available to get together to celebrate it. Should be a good time.

Mine:

Snowbirds.
A gentle reminder that,
To some,
Our winter is tropical

Friday February 24th, 2017

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the crocodile.

Sold the last loaf of bread around 2 o'clock today. Locked the doors to finish up the cleaning at 2:30, with only a couple of ciabatta buns and some butter tarts and macaroons left in the shop.

Business appears to be picking up. We shall see what tomorrow holds.

I'm sure the sunshine and above zero temperatures are helping. I get the impression that the town in general is busier these days, with more people out and about.

We're all slowly emerging from our winter hibernation, I suppose.

Mine:

It will happen one day. It will happen, just as you say. Will you be pleased, or will your skin turn gray?

For when you see this crocodile in a while, you'll see me with a big, big smile.

Thursday February 23rd, 2017

The exercise:

Write about something or someone that is: unwelcome.

Sold the last loaf of bread shortly after noon today. Stayed open until 2:30 and managed to sell everything else but the last baguette and a handful of macaroons. Took the baguette home, left the cookies to sell tomorrow.

Things are very hard to predict this time of year. I have no idea why we had so many more customers today compared to yesterday. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Weather was nice enough for Kat to take the boys to the park this afternoon. Still cold enough that they couldn't stay all that long, but it's progress in the right direction (spring, in other words).

Mine:

"That's not how I would do it."

"You should really be doing it like this."

"Why don't you do it this way? This way would be so much better."

"I'd like it if you did it this way instead."

I get it. I hear you.

I hear what you're really saying.

Make this more convenient for me.

Well guess what?

It's all unwelcome.

Your thoughts.

Your opinion.

You.

So just go ahead and take you and your business elsewhere.

It won't be missed.

And neither will you.

Wednesday February 22nd, 2017

The exercise:

Write about something or someone that is: on standby.

Bakery was mostly steady today, but I was left with 14 loaves on the shelves as closing time approached. Then a woman called at 3:50 asking if I had any bread left. I said yes and that I'd be there until 4:30 cleaning up, so as long as she could get there by then I'd hold some for her. She said she could and asked for 3 loaves.

She got there at 4:05 and brought a friend with her. Who bought 4 loaves herself.

So they managed to halve the number of loaves I had to put in the freezer at pretty much the last possible moment. I was pleased by this, even if it meant staying later because I was selling and slicing bread instead of finishing the clean up.

Back at it at 10 tomorrow morning.

Mine:

"All operatives remain on standby. This situation could go haywire at any moment. Over."

"This really seems like a highly inappropriate use of resources. Over."

"I ordered radio silence, Gonzalez!"

"Oh, you mean other than you breaking it every five minutes to remind us that we're still on standby? Over."

"This is insubordination, Gonzalez. Resume radio silence immediately. Over."

"This is the most ridiculous assignment I have ever been on."

"Radio. Silence. Now. Over."

"With all due respect, sir, you're the only one who cares what your ex-wife is up to. Or who she might be getting up to it with. So I don't know what the rest of the unit is going to do, but I'm going home now. Please don't call me until you've got a more legitimate assignment for me, okay? Over."

"RADIO. SILENCE. GONZALEZ. OVER."

"Good night, sir. Over."

Tuesday February 21st, 2017

The exercise:

Write two haiku about: the pill.

Finally had some time to get back to my writing project this morning. Didn't get all that far, but hopefully it was a step toward getting some momentum back with it.

Also chopped wood (hopefully for the week), did laundry, and got into town this afternoon to get more sinus medication to help me get through the week at the bakery.

Pretty productive day, all in all.

Mine:

Do it now. Do it
faster. Do it better. Do-
Duuuude. Take a chill pill.

*     *     *

Sleeping pills. Pepto.
Drugs for stress. Booze. Messages
in bottles abound.

Monday February 20th, 2017

The exercise:

Write a: follow-up.

For some reason The Crossing has been on my mind recently, so I'll be following-up with the gang to see what they're up to after their three day adventure back in late May of 2015. Please don't feel like you need to go that far back as well - any follow-up will do just fine.

I was feeling better yesterday, so I stopped taking my sinus medication. It felt like I was regressing today, so now I'm back on the pills.

I won't bother telling you how much this displeases me, as I think you've got the idea by now.

Mine:

"We are long past your promised two days, Mongrel," Famine called from the rear of the group. They were on a narrow trail through a thickly wooded forest, riding their horses in single file. "I am beginning to fear that you may have lost the scent of our prey."

There was a lengthy delay before War responded. The others suspected that he was struggling to contain his legendary temper.

"Then worry not, Fame," War said at last. "They are simply moving faster than I could have predicted. I believe that they are going without sleep, running both day and night."

"That seems... unsustainable," Death observed.

"Not for us," Pestilence added with the ghost of a laugh.

"Exactly, Pest," War said. "Exactly."

The four horsemen rode on in silence, bored eyes scanning the trees for signs of anything remotely interesting. The pursuit had lasted much longer than any of them had expected when their assignment had begun and they were growing eager to return home.

"Perhaps we should stop for a rest," Death suggested, taking the others completely off guard. "So that we are refreshed and ready for the confrontation when it finally comes."

"Are you feeling okay?" Famine asked before shaking his head as though trying to clear away a fog. "You know what I mean, Dee."

"This voyage continues to get stranger and stranger," Pestilence added, sounding untypically puzzled.

"There's a clearing up ahead," War called back. "Let us stop there for a few moments to gather ourselves." He rode on for a few more steps before adding under his breath, "Before we completely fall apart..."

Sunday February 19th, 2017

The exercise:

Write something which takes place on: the submarine.

Took it pretty easy today. Did get out for a family walk by the lake late morning, but otherwise not a whole lot was accomplished.

I'm good with that.

Mine:

"Ohhhhh, we all live in a ye-"

"Shhhh! What are you doing?! You know Captain Reynolds hates that song! He caught Jeremy singing it the other day and nearly used him as a torpedo!"

"Yeah, but it's true now."

"What's true?"

"We live in a yellow submarine."

"You've lost your mind. Too long at sea, right? Does it every time."

"No, I'm serious! The sub is really yellow now."

"What? How?"

"You know the last time we got work done in the dry dock? A bunch of us pooled our money together to get the maintenance guys to put a yellow coat on under the black top coat."

"Oh, so it's hidden... that's wise. I guess. I mean, it's a total waste of money for the sake of a stupid joke bu-"

"It's not a stupid joke. And it wasn't a waste. Because we also got them to use a special paint for the top coat that gradually dissolves in salt water."

"Wait... so you can see the yellow now? Captain Reynolds is going to kill you guys!"

"No big deal. He won't know until we reach port."

"And what then?"

"I dunno... I plan on being far, far away before he goes topside."

Saturday February 18th, 2017

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about something that is: bewildering.

The bakery was nuts this morning. I think we'd sold all of the loaves by 11, which is summer style nonsense. We had no idea what was going on.

Eventually one of our customers mentioned that it's a long weekend in Alberta and it all started to make some sense, as Osoyoos tends to get flooded with visitors whenever our neighbouring province has some time off.

I didn't end up closing early, as there were still lots of cinnamon buns left, but at least the afternoon was calmer. Aside from the late arrivals disappointed with the lack of bread.

Looking forward to my weekend.

Mine:

It's all so baffling and dizzying -
I am bathed in wonderment!
Isn't it just mind-boggling that I
Was elected president?

Friday February 17th, 2017

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: 28 days later.

Could be about the horror movie. Could be about the real life horror movie. Could be about something else entirely. Up to you!

I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I'd been punched in the right cheek. Spent most of the day worrying there was something wrong with my teeth. Eventually realized, what with being sick for a little over a week, that it probably had something to do with my sinuses.

In my defense, I likely would have come to this conclusion far sooner if I'd ever had issues with my sinuses before.

My shift didn't start until ten this morning, so that gave me time to hit the pharmacy and get some sinus medication. Felt like a miracle drug, especially after ending my shift yesterday feeling utterly miserable. Currently looking forward to taking the night time dose before I go to sleep, as the day time dose I took this morning has definitely run out.

Mine:

"It's been a bit of a disaster, huh?"

"Honey, the Hindenburg was a disaster."

"So what does that make what we've just been through?"

"A long, drawn out, level ten catastrophe."

Thursday February 16th, 2017

The exercise:

I do believe it is time for some more unfavorable comparisons. Agreed?

All right then, let's get to 'em.

Mine:

Confident? No, I don't believe anyone has ever described the way he walks using that word. More likely - and accurately - one might say that his gait is like that of a toddler, with a bad knee, making his way across a field of partially frozen mud.

*   *   *

Is he fit to be president? With complete certainty, he is equally fit as the contents of the diaper pail in a house with five diaper clad children.

*   *   *

She gave a fine acceptance speech, if you like listening to a neverending loop of cats coughing up hairballs.

*   *   *

He had a cough like the bark of an asthmatic dog, but every now and again he sounded more like a garburator struggling to dispose of leftover, congealed vegetable soup.

Wednesday February 15th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the keeper.

Busy bakery today, aside from a stretch in the afternoon that allowed me to get a start on cleaning up the back. Had a lady come in fifteen minutes before closing who bought two out of the last three loaves and two out of the last five epis. Unfortunately no one else came in after her, but I was pleased to have hardly anything left to put in the freezer at closing.

My cold didn't bother me too much, as the congestion isn't too bad at this point. Just have to remember to have a glass of water at the front for when my voice starts to give out.

Back at it tomorrow.

Mine:

A keeper of secrets, that's what they call me. Oh, I might have a secret or three. Many more, almost certainly. An exact number, however, you shall never see. That's just one of my secrets, obviously.

Do you have one you wish to share? I shall keep it with such great care - I swear! Go on, speak it, if you dare. No others shall hear it, only myself and the air.

I see that it is hard for you to trust. Take your time, if you must. Perhaps it would be easier for you to entrust your secret if you just thought of it as writing it in dust moments before an obliterating wind gust?

Here and then gone, no more permanent than the dawn or a yawn. So let me hear it, go on.

Oh, my - that is quite dark. I should think that carrying such a burden would leave a terrible mark. It must have felt permanent, like a birthmark. But it is shared now, so go forth and walk a little lighter through the park. I daresay you deserve to have a bit of a lark.

Go on, laugh like you'd forgotten how. Your secret is mine now.

Tuesday February 14th, 2017

The exercise:

Write two haiku about: love.

With all the health issues in recent weeks, today being Valentine's Day was a definite afterthought. Maybe Kat and I will celebrate it a little late, once everyone is fully recovered.

I'm feeling better today, so hopefully work at the bakery tomorrow won't be too miserable.

Mine:

You say you love me,
so go ahead and prove it:
take out the garbage

*     *     *

At first sight? No, dear.
It grew slowly but surely,
and now I am yours

Monday February 13th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the artist.

Pretty sure I triple checked the blog to make sure I hadn't used that as a prompt before. Well, I did use it on a Two Haiku Tuesday, but that hardly counts.

Anyway, making use of it today. Let us see what inspiration brings each of us.

Kids health update: both boys are basically better now. Miles has a slight cough and a bit of a runny nose still, but neither seems to be bothering him much.

Personal health update: blergh.

Mine:

She sat in the garden,
Paintbrush in hand,
Watching the sun set,
Again and again.
Helpless to stop herself,
Day after day;
Her canvas untouched
As the light show played.
She once told her brother
In a letter
That Mother Nature
Just did it better.

Sunday February 12th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the guru.

Definitely felt the worst I have so far today. Wasn't bedridden or anything like that... but I wouldn't have minded being at a couple of points.

The weather is gradually warming up, the snow is slowly melting away. Spring is coming... it's just taking its sweet frickin' time.

Mine:

"Hey Owen?"

"Yes, my child?"

"Uh... okay. I was wondering if you could give me a hand with this thing I'm working on - I hear you're the expert around here."

"Of course, my child."

"... right. So, um, can you swing by my cubicle now or is this not a good time?"

"My child, I do not move from my wisdom seat. You must bring your troubles to me, for I cannot go to them."

"Okay, sure. I guess I'll bring my laptop by in a few minutes then, yeah?"

"I look forward to parting the obscuring clouds of confusion for you, my child, in order to place into your hands the full power of Excel."

Saturday February 11th, 2017

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: the bomb shelter.

Bakery went pretty well today. Didn't sell out of loaves but didn't have much of anything else left at closing.

Looking forward to my three day weekend.

Hoping to not be miserably sick for all of it. So far so good on that account.

Mine:

We gather here
Whenever the sirens wail
And listen to
Granddaddy's tall, tall tales

Friday February 10th, 2017

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the mirror.

Miles had a much better night last night and seems to be on the road to recovery. Huge relief. Max's cold is still lingering but I'm hopeful that the warmer weather and more outdoor time will help him out.

I didn't wake up with a sore throat this morning, which gave me hope. But my voice felt a little strained for most of the day and I got pretty congested after getting home from work.

Pretty sure my body is waiting for me to relax Saturday night/Sunday morning, at which point it will allow this illness to knock me on my ass.

Doing what I can to prevent that.

Mine:

"Oh my God, what foul magic is this?" the actress screamed, flinging the hand mirror across the room - where it landed, rather disconcertingly, safe and sound on a small, red cushion.

"The Mirror of Minerva does not show exterior beauty," the old crone said with a grin that revealed three missing teeth (those remaining were yellowed and jutting in every direction), "only inner beauty."

"Oh, then I'm sure when you gaze into it you must be nearly blinded by your magnificence, is that it?"

"Oh no, dearie," the crone cackled, "I can assure you that I am just as hideous on the inside!"

Thursday February 9th, 2017

The exercise:

Write something that has to do with: the avalanche.

Worked from 8 until 1 at the bakery today so that I could be home in the afternoon to help with the sick kids. Max seems to be in a holding pattern while Miles is maybe hopefully slowly improving. The antibiotics seem to be helping him, at any rate.

Woke up this morning with a sore throat. A warm cup of water with honey and lemon juice helped, but I'm not sure how long I'll be able to get away with that.

Mine:

The avalanche had struck without warning. Temperatures had remained consistent in the week leading up to the catastrophe and no new snow had fallen for four days. The town and its residents hadn't stood a chance.

It seemed like a casual, almost backhanded reminder from Mother Nature that although her mountains are most often majestic and benign, they also brim with the potential for annihilation. 

There was a search for survivors afterward, of course. But no one expected to find such a fortunate soul and no one did. The army collected bodies and labelled bags with the names of the deceased whenever possible. Soldiers in thick winter gear worked in silence under the watchful eye of their commander.

When a secret room was uncovered with the remains of five men within it, excitement buzzed through their ranks like bees once did in spring meadows. Had the organizers of the resistance finally been found? Could the government's foot soldiers at last return home to their families, comforted by the knowledge that their freedom and security was no longer in doubt?

It took nearly two weeks to discover that the avalanche had been man-made. It took less than a day after that to confirm that the bodies of the five men in the secret room were not who the army had very nearly convinced themselves they were.

And so, with nothing but a stone cold trail to attempt to pick up and now suddenly weeks behind their quarry, the search resumed.

Wednesday February 8th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about something that: sparkles.

Busy at the bakery today after being closed for a week. Closed up shop at 2:30 (normally we're open until 4) but had lots of cleaning up to do so didn't end up getting home until after 4:30.

Kat took Miles back to our doctor this afternoon and apparently he's developed an ear infection since he was checked on Monday. We've started him on antibiotics (bleh) and they seem to be helping already.

Meanwhile, Max's cold/Bubonic plague seems to be getting worse again.

So, so done with all this sickness nonsense.

Mine:

It's shiny
And pretty
And glittery
And I want it.
It's mine,
Give it to me!
Can't you see?
It's mine.
So go find
One of your own
Because this one
Is mine.

Shiny
Pretty
Glittery
And mine,
All mine.
Shh!
Be quiet
Now,
Be still.
For now
You're mine
All mine.

Tuesday February 7th, 2017

The exercise:

Write two haiku about: the quitter.

Ugh. That is all for today's health updates.

Back to the bakery tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed I manage to get a decent sleep tonight.

Mine:

The going got tough.
He didn't care for that much,
so he got going

*     *     *

Each roll of the dice
seems to go in your favor.
You're cheating. I quit.

Monday February 6th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: resistance.

The only thing I'm going to miss about this recent battle with illnesses in our household is how easy it is to get Max to sleep at night. He conked out in less than ten minutes the other night without a single complaint.

I can tell he's getting better by the gradual increase in how much of a fight he's been putting up the last two nights.

Miles was more congested today, but we're hopeful the worst is behind us at this point. We could certainly all use it to be, at any rate.

Mine:

In a small town nestled in the foothills of majestic mountains, five men gather in a small room lit by two candles. They stand and study a map splayed out across a table with uneven legs, when their eyes are not on the curtain clad windows. There is no one else present. The windows are locked shut. Still they are unable to trust their privacy completely.

Privacy? Secrecy, to be entirely honest.

"Bases N-43 and Q-9 have been infiltrated and utterly destroyed," one of the men says, a dirty finger pointing out each location as he speaks of them. "Base D-5 is completely surrounded and won't survive the weekend. Base T-8 remains hidden and unknown. For now."

"And what about this room?" another man asks, his voice hoarse. "How much longer will it be safe for us to use? How long until that door over there gets kicked in and we all disappear like puffs of cigarette smoke in a hurricane?"

"We should move on before the risk grows too great," a third says. He looks the others in the eyes, one after the other, daring them to challenge him. "The roof above our heads and walls surrounding us are nice luxuries to have, but they are exactly that. Luxuries. We all know what will happen if we delay too long."

There is silence in the flickering candlelight. The air is heavy with stale sweat and fear. Outside, unseen and unnoticed, a snow begins to fall. A race is underway and no one can say who will win. Though, regardless of whether winter or the army reaches these men first, there is one certainty.

Their chance of survival is desperately poor.

Sunday February 5th, 2017

The exercise:

It's the first weekend in February. I think that's a fine time to get back to The Dream Kingdom.

Max continues his gradual improvement. Miles continues his steady decline. Tomorrow could be his day to see the doctor if this continues.

So of course it's currently dumping snow outside right now.

Sigh.

Edit: and apparently I'm exhausted enough to fall asleep mid-post. Sorry about that. And just to save you waiting for any updates: we took Miles to the doctor and it's nothing too serious. Just gotta ride it out. Which is always fun.

Mine:

"Allow me to answer your final question first," Nystor said. His words came from Dylan's right and were accompanied by the sound of something wooden slapping against flesh, softly but repeatedly. "For it is by far the easiest: you will know King Brekstan when you find him because I shall be there with you to point him out."

"You're coming with me?" Dylan asked, feeling both relieved and annoyed by this revelation.

"Of course! Your group will need both a trainer and a guide as you make your way through the Dream Kingdom." There was a pause as Nystor sounded like he was striking a match, somewhere to Dylan's left this time. "I think you will find me both pleasant and useful company."

"We'll see about that," Dylan muttered. "Wait, my group? I never said I'd agreed to you doing more kidnapping or whatever it is you did to get me here."

"I did not kidnap you, child. I was sent to fetch you." Nystor almost sounded as though he was floating above Dylan's head.

Dylan looked up but continued to see nothing but unending darkness. He was getting very tired of not being able to see anything. He very nearly stamped his feet in frustration, but then decided he didn't fully trust the... whatever it was he was standing on.

"Well then, who sent you for me? And why me?!"

"That is very delicate and... large information," Nystor said, a hint of laughter in his voice. Which seemed to be coming from below Dylan now. There was also a rich smokiness rising from there, with hints of unknown herbs and flowers mixed in. "Information of such magnitude requires a trade. So: you give me two names of those you wish to accompany us on our adventure through the Dream Kingdom, and I will tell you what you wish to know."

"No way!" Dylan shouted at the darkness between his feet. Besides, he thought, Josh and Olivia would murder me if I dragged them into this nonsense.

"Josh and Olivia - two excellent choices I'm sure!" Nystor sounded far too pleased. "I shall return with them in a few moments."

"What? Hold on! How did y-"

"Oh, and if you could do something about this darkness while I'm gone I would very much appreciate it. I would love to be able to show you and your friends around my home at some point."

And with the sound of hands clapping together and a soft pop Dylan felt Nystor's presence leave him.

Saturday February 4th, 2017

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: the coup.

So Max seems to be on the road to recovery, just as Miles hops on board the bus to Sickville. And, somehow, I'm still basically healthy. Quite sleep deprived, but not coughing or sniffling.

I feel like I should stick 'yet' at the end of that last sentence.

Oh, an update from Vancouver as well: my former coworker is out of ICU, his breathing is no longer labored, and the clot buster seems to have done its job. He's on blood thinners now and will hopefully be heading home soon.

I think there was something else I wanted to mention but I'm going to sleep now so never mind.

Mine:

They said Enough is enough
At long last,
So they struck violently and
They struck fast

Friday February 3rd, 2017

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the chain reaction.

Max had a marginally better night, but not enough to avoid a visit to the doctor's office. I brought him in this afternoon and his ears and lungs checked out fine, with the only concerns being the cough and a fever. So we're working on keeping his body temperature within range of normal and doing what we can to ease his cough.

Seems to be working so far, as he's had a much better start to the night than last night.

The inspiration for the prompt actually came from the night before, when Max woke up with a horrible coughing fit, which woke Kat up, which woke me up. Miles woke up somewhere in there as well. Once we had Max settled down it was a ridiculous revolving door of trying to get the both of them back to sleep.

I think Kat started off with trying to do both at the same time, then I took a turn with Miles while she tried Max. And then we traded. And then... I dunno. At some point we just gave up and accepted that we were awake for the day and it was best to just get on with things.

Anyway. Now Miles just woke up coughing. So feel free to shoot me anytime, really.

Mine:

You wish to lay the blame on me. As though I could have possibly known that my initial action could have led us to the mess we're in, here and now.

Well I can assure you of this much: if I had that kind of control over the future, I would be wearing a crown right now, surrounded by... actually, never you mind all that.

In the end the choice is yours: take your revenge and then eventually starve, or work with me and stand a significantly better chance of surviving this disaster.

Thursday February 2nd, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the sickness.

Got a call mid-morning asking me to cover for someone at the community centre from noon until five this afternoon. It was a bit of a scramble and not totally ideal timing, but we made it work.

Max has a really nasty cough that's making it hard for him to sleep. It's pretty much torture watching him go through this. If things don't improve overnight we'll be taking him to see our doctor tomorrow, hopefully just to rule out anything serious. So fingers crossed for a better night than last night.

I also learned yesterday on Facebook that a guy I worked with way back in my Electronic Arts days (I quit in 2006) is in hospital, battling a blood clot. I was never super close with him but I have fond memories of working with him and know that he's a good guy.

Also: he's the father to two little children, so this is hitting a little close to home. I'm hoping the doctors can figure this out and that he's back home with his family as soon as possible.

Mine:

You are not welcome here. You were not invited and you are not wanted. Leave this place now, by your own choosing, or be forced out. By any means necessary.

You choose to linger? That is ill advised, in my opinion. This will not end well for you.

I will bring to bear every manner of medicine to stand against you. You will be defeated. You will be driven out. You will crumble and decay until you are no more. And no one will mourn your passing.

No, not a soul will mourn you.

Wednesday February 1st, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the landslide.

Max has come down with Kat's cold and it hit him pretty hard today. So we generally tried to take it easy today, keeping the boys home from their usual afternoon with Kat's parents in order to avoid infecting them. We had some family painting time, which was pretty fun, and slipped in some outside time in the sunshine as well.

Our water was off for most of the day (about 11 to 6), as there was a leak in the system somewhere. Once they had it fixed they turned things on again... only to discover another leak.

We are hopeful that they are done messing about with our water, as that was rather severely inconvenient. And also gave us a new appreciation for the usual ready availability of running water.

Mine:

He had trained for years for that day. Sacrificed so dearly, both financially and personally. How many opportunities had he missed in order to pursue his one, single-minded goal? Countless.

Countless.

If you had asked him if it was all worth it, in the end? I think he would have said he would have done it all again without changing a single thing. He had no regrets. He was content in his choices, in the life he had chosen to live.

If you had asked me, on that fateful morning, if I thought he was going to win the race I would have said yes. He had put in the work. He had done all he could have to prepare for that day. He deserved to win. He'd earned it before the starter's pistol had even gone off.

So it's a shame, really, that he never got the chance to show the rest of the world just how deserving he was. But then, who could have seen that landslide on Harris Mountain coming? None of the competitors, certainly.

You could have asked any of them, I suppose... had any survived.