The exercise:
Write about something that is: delicate.
Our little Max turned two months old today. That soft, subtle sound you hear is time zipping past.
We had a big snowfall overnight, which made sure the snow we already had didn't have a chance to melt into puddles and mud. I should really get out there and take a picture to share with you guys, as it's quite beautiful.
Which means I should get on that before the rain comes to wash it all away.
Which, apparently, will be on Wednesday.
So... tomorrow it is then.
Mine:
"Hello, Darling! I'm home from another busy day at the office!"
Busy doing what, exactly? Your new secretary?
"Hi, Honey. Good to see you made it home safely - I heard on the radio that traffic was especially bad today."
"Oh, you just have no idea. Maniacs behind the wheel, all of them."
Well you're still alive, so I guess they're not quite maniacal enough.
"Mmm, you poor thing."
"So what's on the menu for tonight, Precious?"
Your head on this platter if you call me that one more time.
"There's a roast in the oven and a potato salad in the fridge - with extra dill, of course. Just how you like it."
"Oh you are just the absolute best!"
I wonder if I could put this steak knife through his eye from here...
"I couldn't possibly be the best, Sweetums. That title already belongs to you!"
"You are much too good to me, my delicate flower. Much too good. I'll be in the living room watching TV - just give me a shout when dinner's on the table."
If you're watching sports again I'm going to take this frying pan to the back of your balding head.
"Will do, my dearest. Will do."
Sunday January 6th, 2013
The exercise:
Today we write about: the marathon.
The NHL lockout finally ended this weekend, after several marathon bargaining sessions. A shortened season is set to begin later this month and I'm looking forward to sharing Canucks hockey with my son.
I made my less than triumphant return to the gym this morning, after time away due to the holidays and, more excusably, the flu. Hoping to get back on some sort of regular schedule now that all that is in my rear-view mirror.
Either way, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sore tomorrow.
Because I am already sore right now.
Mine:
Legs faltering,
Lungs shriveling,
The finish line
Must be retreating.
An extending
Course pretending
That it is not
Actually unending.
That's the sole reason,
Not physical depletion,
That I shall never
Ever reach completion.
Today we write about: the marathon.
The NHL lockout finally ended this weekend, after several marathon bargaining sessions. A shortened season is set to begin later this month and I'm looking forward to sharing Canucks hockey with my son.
I made my less than triumphant return to the gym this morning, after time away due to the holidays and, more excusably, the flu. Hoping to get back on some sort of regular schedule now that all that is in my rear-view mirror.
Either way, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sore tomorrow.
Because I am already sore right now.
Mine:
Legs faltering,
Lungs shriveling,
The finish line
Must be retreating.
An extending
Course pretending
That it is not
Actually unending.
That's the sole reason,
Not physical depletion,
That I shall never
Ever reach completion.
Saturday January 5th, 2013
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about something that is: toxic.
This afternoon I finally installed the printer I got from my parents for Christmas. It's a colour one, which is exciting enough, but it also scans and copies (and faxes but we'd need a phone line in order to use that and we only have cell phones).
It'll be great to do our own colour printing, especially when it comes time to do up this year's box program posters for the farm. I've also wanted a scanner for a long time, and that function will likely eliminate most of our faxing needs as well.
The printer also does photos, but I want to look into cost and quality issues before getting too excited about that.
Mine:
Fleeing from the wreckage,
Fumes slither toward the sky;
It's too late to stop them,
So we might as well just lie.
Write a four line poem about something that is: toxic.
This afternoon I finally installed the printer I got from my parents for Christmas. It's a colour one, which is exciting enough, but it also scans and copies (and faxes but we'd need a phone line in order to use that and we only have cell phones).
It'll be great to do our own colour printing, especially when it comes time to do up this year's box program posters for the farm. I've also wanted a scanner for a long time, and that function will likely eliminate most of our faxing needs as well.
The printer also does photos, but I want to look into cost and quality issues before getting too excited about that.
Mine:
Fleeing from the wreckage,
Fumes slither toward the sky;
It's too late to stop them,
So we might as well just lie.
Friday January 4th, 2013
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: day care.
With both of Kat's parents coming down with the flu in the last several days, we've had to steer clear of their house this week. And while I wouldn't call what they've done for us day care - I mean, do you know of any centers that regularly cook dinner for the parents? - it's close enough to turn it into a prompt.
Also as a result of this, we actually made ourselves a good meal this evening. We picked up some salmon from the fish shop in town, pulled some acorn squash out of storage, grabbed some green beans out of the freezer, and cooked up a pot of wild rice to top it all off.
Felt good to put together one of our usual meals again.
Mine:
The evidence was impossible to miss. Parents could discern what had happened before they had even stepped out of their cars in the parking lot. The little girl, though not yet four months old, truly had a style all her own.
Debra The Destroyer of Diapers had struck again.
Write four lines of prose about: day care.
With both of Kat's parents coming down with the flu in the last several days, we've had to steer clear of their house this week. And while I wouldn't call what they've done for us day care - I mean, do you know of any centers that regularly cook dinner for the parents? - it's close enough to turn it into a prompt.
Also as a result of this, we actually made ourselves a good meal this evening. We picked up some salmon from the fish shop in town, pulled some acorn squash out of storage, grabbed some green beans out of the freezer, and cooked up a pot of wild rice to top it all off.
Felt good to put together one of our usual meals again.
Mine:
The evidence was impossible to miss. Parents could discern what had happened before they had even stepped out of their cars in the parking lot. The little girl, though not yet four months old, truly had a style all her own.
Debra The Destroyer of Diapers had struck again.
Thursday January 3rd, 2013
The exercise:
Going to try something a little different with today's prompt. The plan is to introduce you to a setting and then you guys will have the chance to write something that takes place in that setting. Feel free to completely disregard all other responses and keep your piece self-contained. Or, and I think this would be much more fun and interesting, you can incorporate other takes on the prompt into yours.
I think I might have done something like this before, but there's an added twist this time:
I'm hoping to revisit this setting once a month over the course of this year. So if everything works out (aka, I actually remember to do this every month), today's entries will be the first of twelve set in this locale. I think that if you're able to contribute to the entire dozen it would be pretty cool if all of your entries related to each other in some way. My intention, since my first entry is being spent on the intro, is to have the next eleven connect together.
So what's the locale? A village named: Mejaran.
And what do we know about Mejaran? Well, let me tell you...
Mine:
As it gently curls its way back and forth across the valley bottom, the unnamed river splits the village of Mejaran in half. The division is geographically perfect, though residents on each side secretly hold on to the belief that their portion of land is slightly - but somehow significantly - larger.
The handful of homes and shops on both banks are of simple design, as the focus of the craftsmen during their hasty construction was on functionality and longevity.
Also: the self-appointed foreman had been born without a creative bone weighing down his undersized body. Unfortunately for those that would come after, none of the men suffering under his withering gaze were foolish enough to suggest a non-utilitarian addition to any of the projects.
In the near century since then little has changed. The villagers have been too preoccupied with carving out a living beneath the impassive eyes of the northern reaches of the Nadaga Mountain Range. Days blended into weeks, which melted into months, which were in turn lost among the passing years.
Rare were their visitors. Rarer still were the villagers who departed with breath still filling their lungs.
But still there was drama and mystery and love and hatred in their lives. Still there were stories and legends and songs worthy of being shared with outsiders.
Outsiders such as ourselves.
Going to try something a little different with today's prompt. The plan is to introduce you to a setting and then you guys will have the chance to write something that takes place in that setting. Feel free to completely disregard all other responses and keep your piece self-contained. Or, and I think this would be much more fun and interesting, you can incorporate other takes on the prompt into yours.
I think I might have done something like this before, but there's an added twist this time:
I'm hoping to revisit this setting once a month over the course of this year. So if everything works out (aka, I actually remember to do this every month), today's entries will be the first of twelve set in this locale. I think that if you're able to contribute to the entire dozen it would be pretty cool if all of your entries related to each other in some way. My intention, since my first entry is being spent on the intro, is to have the next eleven connect together.
So what's the locale? A village named: Mejaran.
And what do we know about Mejaran? Well, let me tell you...
Mine:
As it gently curls its way back and forth across the valley bottom, the unnamed river splits the village of Mejaran in half. The division is geographically perfect, though residents on each side secretly hold on to the belief that their portion of land is slightly - but somehow significantly - larger.
The handful of homes and shops on both banks are of simple design, as the focus of the craftsmen during their hasty construction was on functionality and longevity.
Also: the self-appointed foreman had been born without a creative bone weighing down his undersized body. Unfortunately for those that would come after, none of the men suffering under his withering gaze were foolish enough to suggest a non-utilitarian addition to any of the projects.
In the near century since then little has changed. The villagers have been too preoccupied with carving out a living beneath the impassive eyes of the northern reaches of the Nadaga Mountain Range. Days blended into weeks, which melted into months, which were in turn lost among the passing years.
Rare were their visitors. Rarer still were the villagers who departed with breath still filling their lungs.
But still there was drama and mystery and love and hatred in their lives. Still there were stories and legends and songs worthy of being shared with outsiders.
Outsiders such as ourselves.
Wednesday January 2nd, 2013
The exercise:
Write a little about: the clearance.
Not quite what I've got going on here, but more accurate words (discount, sale, etc.) have already been used as prompts. So... here we are.
Mine:
I've decided to have a little photography sale over on our farm site to kick off the new year. From now until midnight on January 9th if you order any regularly priced print, you can get a second print of equal or lesser value for half price.
Shipping is extra, but I do my best to keep it reasonable. I'm planning on getting all the orders into the printers on the 10th and I expect to start sending them out around the middle of the month.
I had originally intended to do this as a Christmas sale in early December. But then Max kind of took over everything around here and I wasn't able to organize things in time.
Then I thought I'd do it as a Boxing Week sale. The flu bug had some interesting thoughts on this idea, eventually convincing me to wait until now to put it out there. It was really hard to argue against the kind of logic he was using.
Anyway, if any of you happen to be interested in taking advantage of this sale please do get in touch with me at pranafarm@gmail.com
And of course if you know anyone who might want to buy some of these prints I'd very much appreciate it if you passed this along to them.
Write a little about: the clearance.
Not quite what I've got going on here, but more accurate words (discount, sale, etc.) have already been used as prompts. So... here we are.
Mine:
I've decided to have a little photography sale over on our farm site to kick off the new year. From now until midnight on January 9th if you order any regularly priced print, you can get a second print of equal or lesser value for half price.
Shipping is extra, but I do my best to keep it reasonable. I'm planning on getting all the orders into the printers on the 10th and I expect to start sending them out around the middle of the month.
I had originally intended to do this as a Christmas sale in early December. But then Max kind of took over everything around here and I wasn't able to organize things in time.
Then I thought I'd do it as a Boxing Week sale. The flu bug had some interesting thoughts on this idea, eventually convincing me to wait until now to put it out there. It was really hard to argue against the kind of logic he was using.
Anyway, if any of you happen to be interested in taking advantage of this sale please do get in touch with me at pranafarm@gmail.com
And of course if you know anyone who might want to buy some of these prints I'd very much appreciate it if you passed this along to them.
Tuesday January 1st, 2013
The exercise:
Let us begin the new year by writing two haiku about: possibilities.
So I figure this month will have six posts published with the wrong year in the header without me noticing until (at least) the next day. Anyone else willing to pick a number? Fabulous prizes for whoever comes closest.
Although fair warning: we might have vastly differing definitions of 'fabulous'.
Mine:
A road, a trail, a
passageway to somewhere else -
where will yours take you?
* * *
Standing at a fork
in the road, hair turning grey,
paralyzed by choice.
Let us begin the new year by writing two haiku about: possibilities.
So I figure this month will have six posts published with the wrong year in the header without me noticing until (at least) the next day. Anyone else willing to pick a number? Fabulous prizes for whoever comes closest.
Although fair warning: we might have vastly differing definitions of 'fabulous'.
Mine:
A road, a trail, a
passageway to somewhere else -
where will yours take you?
* * *
Standing at a fork
in the road, hair turning grey,
paralyzed by choice.
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