The exercise:
Write two haiku about something that is: clandestine.
Man, that's a fun word. I have no idea how I've managed to never use it even once on this blog before today. I'd like to think I thought about using it before, but I'm pretty sure I haven't.
Finally got a first coat of paint on the bathroom this morning. Aiming for a second coat in the morning before I have to take over Max duties. I do not enjoy painting, for the record.
NHL playoffs, the 2015 version, commence tomorrow night. I can't wait.
Mine:
They meet in dark bars
unfrequented by those who
might tell their partners
* * *
Between spreadsheets and
meetings, he works frantically
on his debut book
Monday April 13th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the summons.
2,500 days in a row. That's quite something.
Did more weeding in the strawberry patch this morning. It's the worst stretch, so it's slow going, but I'm trying to remember that it won't all be like this.
Hung out with Max this afternoon at Kat's parents house, because that's the only place he wants to go these days. I hope to one day be able to get him into town again.
Mine:
He ran through the crowded streets, heedless of who he slammed into or knocked over. Angry shouts followed in his wake but if he heard them he showed no sign of it. He was too focused on reaching his destination to be bothered by such things anyway.
Hell, he wouldn't have even noticed that it had begun to pour rain if his long hair hadn't gotten stuck hanging in front of his eyes every ten or twenty strides. As it was, he acknowledged it enough to brush the black strands away with an annoyed grunt but little more than that.
He certainly didn't seem to notice that the rain was washing the crowds away, clearing his path and allowing his speed to steadily increase. But then, he'd hardly noticed the people who had been in his way when he first began his journey.
The sodden guards watched his approach through the pounding rain, brandishing their weapons when they realized he had no intention of slowing. Instead of being intimidated by the swords and spears pointed in his direction, he used the rain slicked road to his advantage and slid between them before bouncing back to his feet and continuing on.
"Should we give chase?" one of the guards asked into the stunned silence that followed.
"Nah," another replied with a slow shake of his head. "That one's clearly been summoned by the king."
Write about: the summons.
2,500 days in a row. That's quite something.
Did more weeding in the strawberry patch this morning. It's the worst stretch, so it's slow going, but I'm trying to remember that it won't all be like this.
Hung out with Max this afternoon at Kat's parents house, because that's the only place he wants to go these days. I hope to one day be able to get him into town again.
Mine:
He ran through the crowded streets, heedless of who he slammed into or knocked over. Angry shouts followed in his wake but if he heard them he showed no sign of it. He was too focused on reaching his destination to be bothered by such things anyway.
Hell, he wouldn't have even noticed that it had begun to pour rain if his long hair hadn't gotten stuck hanging in front of his eyes every ten or twenty strides. As it was, he acknowledged it enough to brush the black strands away with an annoyed grunt but little more than that.
He certainly didn't seem to notice that the rain was washing the crowds away, clearing his path and allowing his speed to steadily increase. But then, he'd hardly noticed the people who had been in his way when he first began his journey.
The sodden guards watched his approach through the pounding rain, brandishing their weapons when they realized he had no intention of slowing. Instead of being intimidated by the swords and spears pointed in his direction, he used the rain slicked road to his advantage and slid between them before bouncing back to his feet and continuing on.
"Should we give chase?" one of the guards asked into the stunned silence that followed.
"Nah," another replied with a slow shake of his head. "That one's clearly been summoned by the king."
Sunday April 12th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the agreement.
Feeling extra sleepy. Me write now.
Mine:
A gentlemen's agreement, that's what he called it.
No need for a written contract, barely worth shaking hands over really. We were men of honor, after all. Why bother with all the fuss and muss of a legal, binding contract, right? We would both benefit from the bargain!
That bastard.
I should have seen it coming. The way he left some things unsaid, while others were stated so vaguely as to allow a mile's worth of wiggle room. He knew exactly what he was doing, I'll give him that much. He figured he'd found an easy mark and took advantage of me.
Except that's not how this story ends. For this tale is not over yet. And he is about to discover that he was not the only party who failed to fully disclose every single detail of their side of the deal.
He must suspect something is coming. He's been down roads like this before, I imagine. He must be used to furious forsaken partners seeking revenge. I hope he's ready for me.
Actually... I hope he's not ready at all.
Write about: the agreement.
Feeling extra sleepy. Me write now.
Mine:
A gentlemen's agreement, that's what he called it.
No need for a written contract, barely worth shaking hands over really. We were men of honor, after all. Why bother with all the fuss and muss of a legal, binding contract, right? We would both benefit from the bargain!
That bastard.
I should have seen it coming. The way he left some things unsaid, while others were stated so vaguely as to allow a mile's worth of wiggle room. He knew exactly what he was doing, I'll give him that much. He figured he'd found an easy mark and took advantage of me.
Except that's not how this story ends. For this tale is not over yet. And he is about to discover that he was not the only party who failed to fully disclose every single detail of their side of the deal.
He must suspect something is coming. He's been down roads like this before, I imagine. He must be used to furious forsaken partners seeking revenge. I hope he's ready for me.
Actually... I hope he's not ready at all.
Saturday April 11th, 2015
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the blanket.
A couple of things were made official today. One: Vancouver hosts Calgary this Wednesday for the opening game of their first round series. Two: Ottawa, with an incredible run down the stretch, have also made the playoffs.
That makes 5 out of 7 Canadian teams getting to play some extra hockey this year. I don't know if that's a record, but it's definitely the most that I can remember.
So of course Winnipeg is the only one playing an American team in the opening round. Oh well, I guess that means at least two Canadian teams will make it to the second round.
Mine:
Worn and faded,
Holes here and there;
Still it somehow
Smells like her hair...
Write a four line poem about: the blanket.
A couple of things were made official today. One: Vancouver hosts Calgary this Wednesday for the opening game of their first round series. Two: Ottawa, with an incredible run down the stretch, have also made the playoffs.
That makes 5 out of 7 Canadian teams getting to play some extra hockey this year. I don't know if that's a record, but it's definitely the most that I can remember.
So of course Winnipeg is the only one playing an American team in the opening round. Oh well, I guess that means at least two Canadian teams will make it to the second round.
Mine:
Worn and faded,
Holes here and there;
Still it somehow
Smells like her hair...
Friday April 10th, 2015
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose which take place on: the catwalk.
Not sure what inspired that. Maybe it had something to do with being around Oliver (Kat's brother's cat) while hanging out with Max at Kat's parents place this afternoon.
Feel free to imagine me shrugging my shoulders while muttering "I dunno" at this point.
Tomorrow is the final day of the regular season for the NHL this year. Playoffs, I believe, are scheduled to begin on Wednesday. And, unlike last year, there are four Canadian teams (Vancouver, Calgary, Winnipeg, Montreal) guaranteed a spot in the postseason - with a pretty decent chance of a fifth (Ottawa) joining in on the fun.
But I'm pretty sure you already know which team I'll be following with the most interest.
Mine:
"They are working very hard," Evan said, his words surprisingly clear given that he was chewing on a cigar at the time.
"So it appears," I replied without taking my eyes off the men and women arranged at benches below us.
"Do you think our vantage point is... less than advantageous?" Evan asked as he leaned further over the railing to get a better look at what our employees were doing.
I put a hand at the small of his back and, after a moment's thought, decided not to push - there would be time enough for that at a later date, with fewer witnesses about.
Write four lines of prose which take place on: the catwalk.
Not sure what inspired that. Maybe it had something to do with being around Oliver (Kat's brother's cat) while hanging out with Max at Kat's parents place this afternoon.
Feel free to imagine me shrugging my shoulders while muttering "I dunno" at this point.
Tomorrow is the final day of the regular season for the NHL this year. Playoffs, I believe, are scheduled to begin on Wednesday. And, unlike last year, there are four Canadian teams (Vancouver, Calgary, Winnipeg, Montreal) guaranteed a spot in the postseason - with a pretty decent chance of a fifth (Ottawa) joining in on the fun.
But I'm pretty sure you already know which team I'll be following with the most interest.
Mine:
"They are working very hard," Evan said, his words surprisingly clear given that he was chewing on a cigar at the time.
"So it appears," I replied without taking my eyes off the men and women arranged at benches below us.
"Do you think our vantage point is... less than advantageous?" Evan asked as he leaned further over the railing to get a better look at what our employees were doing.
I put a hand at the small of his back and, after a moment's thought, decided not to push - there would be time enough for that at a later date, with fewer witnesses about.
Thursday April 9th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the opposition.
The Canucks are officially playing the Flames in the first round of this year's playoffs. The final game of the season for each team this Saturday will determine who has home ice advantage - if Vancouver wins, it's theirs. If they lose and the Flames win, the series begins in Calgary.
Either way, though... woo hoo, playoff hockey!
Spent most of my morning with Max at gym time at the community center. It was even relatively easy to get him there. This afternoon, while he hung out with Kat's parents, I seeded carrots and spinach in the garden before beginning this year's edition of the Weeding and Mulching the Strawberries show.
Blargh. I really hope to get some more help with that than I did last year.
Mine:
They are out there. They are watching our every move, studying patterns and seeking out weaknesses. When the time comes, they will be ready.
They are whetting their blades, coiling their rope, collecting their poisons. If it can be used to kill a man, they are gathering it. When the time comes, their stockpile will overflow with the tools of death.
They are out there. They are waiting. They are prepared.
We will defeat them anyway.
Write about: the opposition.
The Canucks are officially playing the Flames in the first round of this year's playoffs. The final game of the season for each team this Saturday will determine who has home ice advantage - if Vancouver wins, it's theirs. If they lose and the Flames win, the series begins in Calgary.
Either way, though... woo hoo, playoff hockey!
Spent most of my morning with Max at gym time at the community center. It was even relatively easy to get him there. This afternoon, while he hung out with Kat's parents, I seeded carrots and spinach in the garden before beginning this year's edition of the Weeding and Mulching the Strawberries show.
Blargh. I really hope to get some more help with that than I did last year.
Mine:
They are out there. They are watching our every move, studying patterns and seeking out weaknesses. When the time comes, they will be ready.
They are whetting their blades, coiling their rope, collecting their poisons. If it can be used to kill a man, they are gathering it. When the time comes, their stockpile will overflow with the tools of death.
They are out there. They are waiting. They are prepared.
We will defeat them anyway.
Wednesday April 8th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the U-turn.
I had planned on spending most of my morning with Max in town, running a couple errands and going to the park. We ended up at and around Kat's parents place instead because I need to learn to stop making plans while he's in this phase.
A lot of my afternoon was spent doing things I'd hoped to get done in the morning, so it was a generally unproductive day for me.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better in that regard.
Mine:
One moment we were going full steam ahead, the view out the passenger window a green blur of trees. The next you were heavy on the breaks, bringing everything gradually back into focus. And now we're going back the way we came.
"I forgot something."
Those are your words. Innocent enough on their own, I suppose. But I don't like the way you said them. And I especially don't like the way you started chewing on the inside of your right cheek after you said it.
"What is it?"
I don't really want to know the answer, but I ask anyway. I feel obligated to inquire. As though if I only offered silence in reply I wouldn't be holding up my end of our unspoken agreement.
"It's a... it's sort of... hard to explain."
God, it's that bad? Maybe I should just undo my seat belt, open my door, and take my chances. The immediate physical damage would surely be less than the long term psychological punishment of staying.
"Oh." A short pause that feels much longer. "I guess... I'll just have to wait and see, huh?"
You smile and nod, obviously relieved. About what... who knows. I go back to studying the green ocean of trees you're driving us through and... what? Find something to distract myself with, get my thoughts elsewhere. I do what I need to do.
It's going to be a long two hours until we get back home.
Write about: the U-turn.
I had planned on spending most of my morning with Max in town, running a couple errands and going to the park. We ended up at and around Kat's parents place instead because I need to learn to stop making plans while he's in this phase.
A lot of my afternoon was spent doing things I'd hoped to get done in the morning, so it was a generally unproductive day for me.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better in that regard.
Mine:
One moment we were going full steam ahead, the view out the passenger window a green blur of trees. The next you were heavy on the breaks, bringing everything gradually back into focus. And now we're going back the way we came.
"I forgot something."
Those are your words. Innocent enough on their own, I suppose. But I don't like the way you said them. And I especially don't like the way you started chewing on the inside of your right cheek after you said it.
"What is it?"
I don't really want to know the answer, but I ask anyway. I feel obligated to inquire. As though if I only offered silence in reply I wouldn't be holding up my end of our unspoken agreement.
"It's a... it's sort of... hard to explain."
God, it's that bad? Maybe I should just undo my seat belt, open my door, and take my chances. The immediate physical damage would surely be less than the long term psychological punishment of staying.
"Oh." A short pause that feels much longer. "I guess... I'll just have to wait and see, huh?"
You smile and nod, obviously relieved. About what... who knows. I go back to studying the green ocean of trees you're driving us through and... what? Find something to distract myself with, get my thoughts elsewhere. I do what I need to do.
It's going to be a long two hours until we get back home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)