The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the ghost.
The last day of January has arrived at last. Now on to the speedy month of February as we pick up steam heading back toward Spring once more.
Not that it has been especially cold lately. I'm just a bigger fan of spring than I am of winter.
I babysat my nose at home this morning while Kat and Sue took Max to the play cafe. Apparently it was pretty busy there but that didn't deter Max from enjoying himself as usual. Sue came away suitably impressed with the establishment as well.
This afternoon I was feeling a little better so I took Sue and Max to the playground down by the beach. We played on the swings and teeter totter, went down the slide, and were entertained by Max's imaginary puppies.
And now I'm back to feeling like my nose could fall off and I would not be terribly troubled by its departure.
Mine:
In her laugh,
In her smile,
I see you
All the while...
Friday January 30th, 2015
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about something that is: eternal.
Max seemed to be doing pretty well with his cold today, I'm happy to report. I'm less thrilled to mention that I seem to be doing steadily worse. I would like a new nose now, please and thank you.
Back on the positive side of things, I successfully drove to Kelowna to pick up Sue this afternoon and brought her back here to see her nephew again. Max, after an initial quiet period, was very enthusiastic about seeing her again.
Actually, I'm surprised he managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time.
Anyway, I hope to be feeling better by tomorrow morning, as Max really wants to show his aunt the new play cafe and I'd like to be there for that. If not, I'll stay home and sulk/rest on the couch while Kat goes with them.
Shoo, cold. You are not wanted here.
Mine:
I grow weary of this out of tune automatic snot vending machine. I know it won't stay this way forever, but right now that is not how it seems. It appears quite content, despite my clear protestations, with its home on my face. I just want it gone and gone right now, never to return to this unwelcoming place.
Write four lines of prose about something that is: eternal.
Max seemed to be doing pretty well with his cold today, I'm happy to report. I'm less thrilled to mention that I seem to be doing steadily worse. I would like a new nose now, please and thank you.
Back on the positive side of things, I successfully drove to Kelowna to pick up Sue this afternoon and brought her back here to see her nephew again. Max, after an initial quiet period, was very enthusiastic about seeing her again.
Actually, I'm surprised he managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time.
Anyway, I hope to be feeling better by tomorrow morning, as Max really wants to show his aunt the new play cafe and I'd like to be there for that. If not, I'll stay home and sulk/rest on the couch while Kat goes with them.
Shoo, cold. You are not wanted here.
Mine:
I grow weary of this out of tune automatic snot vending machine. I know it won't stay this way forever, but right now that is not how it seems. It appears quite content, despite my clear protestations, with its home on my face. I just want it gone and gone right now, never to return to this unwelcoming place.
Thursday January 29th, 2015
The exercise:
Write something that has to do with: entry.
After spending most of the morning wiping Max's nose, I drove down to Osoyoos to help Kat's dad work on our bathroom renovation. We removed a bunch of wall boards that we'll be replacing with drywall, and that earned us enough space to take the bathtub out.
It's a great big mess in there right now, but Kat's dad is getting a plumber in (hopefully tomorrow) to have a look at things and then it should be time to start replacing stuff. Sadly, the demolition phase appears to be over.
Very excited that Sue, my sister who lives in Calgary, is arriving tomorrow evening. Really hoping that all that good stuff we stuffed into Max today will help him feel better for his aunt's visit.
Mine:
The warm July air drifted into the house through an open window in the kitchen. It circled the room, slowly, slowly, before slipping into the narrow hall that led to the front of the house. The door to the office was open, so it paused to take a look.
A cluttered desk, two disorganized bookshelves, thick green curtains drawn across a small window. None of these held its interest, but it did linger for a while in front of the calendar tacked to the back of the door. A snowy scene loomed over the days and events of January, marred by only a few hastily scribbled reminders.
With what might have been a sigh, the air returned to the hall and continued on its way. An empty bathroom was left uninspected, as something at the front door had caught its attention. Four pairs of winter boots sat on the mat, one small red boot tipped over on its side.
How strange, thought the air.
The silence in the house was heavy, like a thick fog had come across the lake and made itself at home there. It was unbroken by words or footsteps or laughter. But... was that breathing coming from the living room?
Yes. A man sat there, slumped on one of the couches. Expressionless, holding an abandoned book in both hands at his lap, he stared a distant stare out the front window. He did not seem particularly happy, thought the air.
After only a few moments the air flowed quickly back the way it had come from and returned to the outside world. It had seen enough of that place.
Write something that has to do with: entry.
After spending most of the morning wiping Max's nose, I drove down to Osoyoos to help Kat's dad work on our bathroom renovation. We removed a bunch of wall boards that we'll be replacing with drywall, and that earned us enough space to take the bathtub out.
It's a great big mess in there right now, but Kat's dad is getting a plumber in (hopefully tomorrow) to have a look at things and then it should be time to start replacing stuff. Sadly, the demolition phase appears to be over.
Very excited that Sue, my sister who lives in Calgary, is arriving tomorrow evening. Really hoping that all that good stuff we stuffed into Max today will help him feel better for his aunt's visit.
Mine:
The warm July air drifted into the house through an open window in the kitchen. It circled the room, slowly, slowly, before slipping into the narrow hall that led to the front of the house. The door to the office was open, so it paused to take a look.
A cluttered desk, two disorganized bookshelves, thick green curtains drawn across a small window. None of these held its interest, but it did linger for a while in front of the calendar tacked to the back of the door. A snowy scene loomed over the days and events of January, marred by only a few hastily scribbled reminders.
With what might have been a sigh, the air returned to the hall and continued on its way. An empty bathroom was left uninspected, as something at the front door had caught its attention. Four pairs of winter boots sat on the mat, one small red boot tipped over on its side.
How strange, thought the air.
The silence in the house was heavy, like a thick fog had come across the lake and made itself at home there. It was unbroken by words or footsteps or laughter. But... was that breathing coming from the living room?
Yes. A man sat there, slumped on one of the couches. Expressionless, holding an abandoned book in both hands at his lap, he stared a distant stare out the front window. He did not seem particularly happy, thought the air.
After only a few moments the air flowed quickly back the way it had come from and returned to the outside world. It had seen enough of that place.
Wednesday January 28th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the hunt.
Took Max back to the play cafe this morning for a couple hours of good times. It was pretty quiet first thing, which gave him the opportunity to play with the train set without... um... overzealous kids... interfering. Yes, let me put it that way.
He also spent some time in the bouncy castle and the new tunnel thing. The owner took a picture of him crawling through it and asked if it would be okay to put in on their Facebook page and I told her that was no problem.
It appears, however, that we might have overdone our time at the cafe. Or maybe it was yesterday's visit to StrongStart? Either way, this evening the little man showed signs of coming down with a cold. Fingers crossed it's not a bad one.
Mine:
I know what I want,
The time is right.
It will be mine
Before tonight.
I'm armed to the teeth,
I'm ready to roll!
There's no stopping me,
May God save my soul...
I've cleared out my spot,
The weather is fine;
When the mall opens up,
I'll be first in line.
Write about: the hunt.
Took Max back to the play cafe this morning for a couple hours of good times. It was pretty quiet first thing, which gave him the opportunity to play with the train set without... um... overzealous kids... interfering. Yes, let me put it that way.
He also spent some time in the bouncy castle and the new tunnel thing. The owner took a picture of him crawling through it and asked if it would be okay to put in on their Facebook page and I told her that was no problem.
It appears, however, that we might have overdone our time at the cafe. Or maybe it was yesterday's visit to StrongStart? Either way, this evening the little man showed signs of coming down with a cold. Fingers crossed it's not a bad one.
Mine:
I know what I want,
The time is right.
It will be mine
Before tonight.
I'm armed to the teeth,
I'm ready to roll!
There's no stopping me,
May God save my soul...
I've cleared out my spot,
The weather is fine;
When the mall opens up,
I'll be first in line.
Tuesday January 27th, 2015
The exercise:
Write two haiku from a child's point of view.
Late donut celebration was still delicious. Deliciously late? Sure. Went with the Canadian Maple again this year. I've already warned Kat that next year, being the 10th anniversary of my diagnosis, will require more than one donut to properly mark the occasion.
Spent most of the day with Max. Took him to StrongStart, read him some books at the library, and had some fun around the house. Traded off with Kat late afternoon in order to help her out with some marketing materials for her counselling business, which I think basically went well.
I guess we'll see when her new brochures come in the mail.
Mine:
They ask me what I
want, as though they don't know that
I want everything
* * *
Spoons, empty boxes,
sticks, unattended wallets -
all the world's a toy
Write two haiku from a child's point of view.
Late donut celebration was still delicious. Deliciously late? Sure. Went with the Canadian Maple again this year. I've already warned Kat that next year, being the 10th anniversary of my diagnosis, will require more than one donut to properly mark the occasion.
Spent most of the day with Max. Took him to StrongStart, read him some books at the library, and had some fun around the house. Traded off with Kat late afternoon in order to help her out with some marketing materials for her counselling business, which I think basically went well.
I guess we'll see when her new brochures come in the mail.
Mine:
They ask me what I
want, as though they don't know that
I want everything
* * *
Spoons, empty boxes,
sticks, unattended wallets -
all the world's a toy
Monday January 26th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: standards.
I realized this evening, while my mind was wondering as I did the dishes, that I managed to forget all about the anniversary of my diagnosis of type 1 diabetes. Better known in my house as Diabetes Donut Day.
It's been nine years (well, and five days, to be exact) and this is the first year it slipped past without my noticing. I suppose that's a good thing. But I also want my annual donut.
So I'll be getting one tomorrow to make up for it.
Went out to take pictures this morning, but it was very foggy first thing and I had errands I wanted to do as well. So not many pictures were taken, and I'm not especially happy about any of the ones I did take. I'll share this one though, taken on the southernmost beach in Penticton:
I showed them to Kat and she liked most of them, then suggested that my standards have gone up recently. I'll allow that that's a possibility.
Mine:
Julie was well aware, thank you very much, that she had lowered her standards when it came to men. She did not, thank you very much, need her friends to remind her of this at every possible opportunity.
She had been single for far too long. That's where being picky had gotten her. Not with the perfect man, not even with an okay man. Alone. She was tired of it. Sick to death of it, if she was being honest.
So she had removed a few items from her Must Have list. Well, that's how it had started. Two weekends and no romance later several more were crossed out. The day after that another handful were erased entirely.
What remained... well, it wasn't pretty. But Julie was trying to stay positive. She reminded herself daily that by increasing the number of fish in her proverbial sea she was more likely to land a catch. And who knew? Maybe that eventual catch would happen to check off all the boxes on her original list.
Oh, what a happy little coincidence that would be!
At any rate, she had a date. It was a Friday night and she was going out! With a man! And he had a job (that was one of the few Must Haves that were left) and - what a bonus - he was picking her up in his very own vehicle (original item, recently removed)!
Unfortunately, Julie had some difficulties maintaining her upbeat attitude when her date arrived (right on time, mind you) in his work vehicle. Which would not have been so bad, really, if he wasn't a garbage man.
Sanitary engineer, she reminded herself sternly as she stepped out her front door.
Write about: standards.
I realized this evening, while my mind was wondering as I did the dishes, that I managed to forget all about the anniversary of my diagnosis of type 1 diabetes. Better known in my house as Diabetes Donut Day.
It's been nine years (well, and five days, to be exact) and this is the first year it slipped past without my noticing. I suppose that's a good thing. But I also want my annual donut.
So I'll be getting one tomorrow to make up for it.
Went out to take pictures this morning, but it was very foggy first thing and I had errands I wanted to do as well. So not many pictures were taken, and I'm not especially happy about any of the ones I did take. I'll share this one though, taken on the southernmost beach in Penticton:
I showed them to Kat and she liked most of them, then suggested that my standards have gone up recently. I'll allow that that's a possibility.
Mine:
Julie was well aware, thank you very much, that she had lowered her standards when it came to men. She did not, thank you very much, need her friends to remind her of this at every possible opportunity.
She had been single for far too long. That's where being picky had gotten her. Not with the perfect man, not even with an okay man. Alone. She was tired of it. Sick to death of it, if she was being honest.
So she had removed a few items from her Must Have list. Well, that's how it had started. Two weekends and no romance later several more were crossed out. The day after that another handful were erased entirely.
What remained... well, it wasn't pretty. But Julie was trying to stay positive. She reminded herself daily that by increasing the number of fish in her proverbial sea she was more likely to land a catch. And who knew? Maybe that eventual catch would happen to check off all the boxes on her original list.
Oh, what a happy little coincidence that would be!
At any rate, she had a date. It was a Friday night and she was going out! With a man! And he had a job (that was one of the few Must Haves that were left) and - what a bonus - he was picking her up in his very own vehicle (original item, recently removed)!
Unfortunately, Julie had some difficulties maintaining her upbeat attitude when her date arrived (right on time, mind you) in his work vehicle. Which would not have been so bad, really, if he wasn't a garbage man.
Sanitary engineer, she reminded herself sternly as she stepped out her front door.
Sunday January 25th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about something that has: rusted shut.
I don't think Max has an upper limit (that he is aware of) for how long he can be at the play cafe in Penticton. We were there for just over three hours this afternoon while Kat attended a talk and then did some shopping.
It wasn't until the car ride home that he realized how tired he was. Thankfully it's a short trip.
I guess it didn't fully hit me until after we'd been home for a few minutes. That was when the headache kicked in.
Feeling okay at the moment, but now I know better than to do that again.
Mine:
"A little more oil... there, that ought to do the trick."
"Or we could just sledgehammer it."
"I said no, boy."
"Well, looks to me like you still can't open it."
"There's got to be another oil can around here somewhere..."
"I think we should just use the sledgehammer. You know it would do the job."
"And I think you're plum crazy if you think I'm going to take that thing to this old Chevy's gas tank door! Doesn't that seem at least a little bit like a bad idea to you?"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Jeez. Can we at least use a crowbar?"
"... fine."
"WOO HOO!"
Write about something that has: rusted shut.
I don't think Max has an upper limit (that he is aware of) for how long he can be at the play cafe in Penticton. We were there for just over three hours this afternoon while Kat attended a talk and then did some shopping.
It wasn't until the car ride home that he realized how tired he was. Thankfully it's a short trip.
I guess it didn't fully hit me until after we'd been home for a few minutes. That was when the headache kicked in.
Feeling okay at the moment, but now I know better than to do that again.
Mine:
"A little more oil... there, that ought to do the trick."
"Or we could just sledgehammer it."
"I said no, boy."
"Well, looks to me like you still can't open it."
"There's got to be another oil can around here somewhere..."
"I think we should just use the sledgehammer. You know it would do the job."
"And I think you're plum crazy if you think I'm going to take that thing to this old Chevy's gas tank door! Doesn't that seem at least a little bit like a bad idea to you?"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Jeez. Can we at least use a crowbar?"
"... fine."
"WOO HOO!"
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