Monday January 31st, 2011

The exercise:

Today will be our first full day in Jamaica. So let's write about being: in the tropics.

Note: I'm away on my honeymoon so this is a scheduled post.

Mine:

The sun seems a little bigger,

The people too full of vigour,

These drinks don't ever stop flowing,

The guide don't know where we're going,

The bus is always breaking down,

The driver thinks he's a clown,

The price goes up by the hour,

The other tourists are sour...

But it's still better than a day

Spent shoveling wet snow, I'd say.

Sunday January 30th, 2011

The exercise:

Today Kat and I are flying from Toronto to Montego Bay, Jamaica. So I thought it would be fitting for today's prompt to be: the island.

Note: I'm away on my honeymoon so this is a scheduled post.

Mine:

On the first day he walked from the south coast to the north coast, through thick jungle that was brimming with the scent of exotic flowers. It took him two hours, and mosquitoes were his constant companions.

On the second day he went east to west. Even with a large hill to drag himself over it only took an hour. The mosquitoes were still glad to see him.

On the third day he traveled around the circumference of the island and the sand flies welcomed him with open jaws. Walking barefoot in soft white sand, devoid of any shelter from the sun's silent gaze, he became disoriented.

It wasn't until just before sunset when he thought he recognized his starting point, though by then every stretch of beach looked the same to him. He lay down in the sand and fell into a sleep filled with hallucinogenic visions and angry voices.

On the fourth day men in rescue boats found him and brought him back to their ship.

On the fifth day, still in the grips of the island's madness, he slaughtered them all.

On the sixth day the ship, with no one at the helm, ran aground on the island. The man began walking again.

Saturday January 29th, 2011

The exercise:

Kat and I are on the road this morning to Kelowna, where we'll catch our flight to Toronto. In my absence, your assignment is to write a four line poem about the word: charge.

See you guys on Valentine's Day :)

I was going to type, 'Wear something nice.', but then decided it was more creepy than funny. Now I'm thinking it's a tie.

Note: I'm away on my honeymoon so this is a scheduled post.

Mine:

My thoughts are all twisted in knots,

Stress is clogging my arteries.

Skin scarred by all the wars I've fought,

It's time to charge my batteries.

Friday January 28th, 2011

The exercise:

Four lines of prose about: it's time to go.

We're out of here bright and early tomorrow morning, due back on Monday, February 14th. I will be doing my best to avoid computers while I'm away, so you likely won't be hearing anything from me besides the posts I've scheduled to go up in my absence.

A couple of blog notes: 

- The 'days in a row' counter is going to be stuck on 964 until I get back (since I update it manually) - if you see it change, it means I caved and logged in. So feel free to yell at me if that happens.

- All of the scheduled posts will be going up at noon Pacific (go here to figure out what that means for you). I figured the least I could do while I was gone was to give you a consistent posting time, and that seemed as good a time as any.

- I will be responding to all of your comments when I return. But I'm going to be nice to myself and give it a week or so to get through them all. Well, assuming that there are a lot to get through. Don't make me beg.

Alright, I think that's everything. I hope all of you keep yourselves safe and well for the next sixteen days and I'll see you when I get back.

Mine:

Pierre looked at the name on the call display on his ringing phone and gulped, drops of sweat appearing immediately on his forehead. He knew this would not be good news.

"Ah... hello, Henri... how are you d-?"

"Meet me downstairs by the front door in forty-five seconds or you're fired."

Thursday January 27th, 2011

The exercise:

La prompte du jour: the big freeze.

Mmm, mangled french.

Anyway. Our deep freeze arrived today. It isn't actually plugged in yet - both because we're waiting until after we get back to do that and since we couldn't be bothered to squeeze it into place this afternoon. It was right before dinner and there will be time to get it right tomorrow.

You know, in between packing for our freakin' honeymoon.

Mine:

He was built like an upright freezer,

With the brains to match;

We were all certain he wasn't born -

He must have been hatched.

I'll admit he came in quite handy

When trouble came 'round;

He never had to hurt anyone,

He just kinda frowned.

That was enough to loosen bowels

And send fools running;

I think the man we called The Big Freeze

Found it rather stunning.

Even though his nickname was frigid,

He was warmhearted;

I cried the day we pulled his plug

And he departed.

Wednesday January 26th, 2011

The exercise:

I think today we shall write about: the barber.

Because I got my Honeymoon Hair Cut today (it's pretty much all Honeymoon, all the time in my thoughts these days). It was fine for the winter here, but I had way too much hair on my head for a tropical location. 

Plus I want to look good in all those pictures that are sure to be taken.

Mine:

Bobby took one look at the monster with scissors for hands and tried to make a break for it.

"Don't be silly," his mother said, calmly grabbing him by the collar and dragging him back into the barber shop. "Mr. Wilkes isn't going to hurt you - he's going to make you handsome!"

"How? By cutting off my ears?"

"No, of course not, my boy," Mr. Wilkes said with a soft laugh that sounded like the maniacal cackle of a supervillain to Bobby. "I'm just going to lower them a little."

Bobby made another break for it and this time he managed to escape to the sidewalk and halfway down the block before his mother was able to catch him. After bringing him screaming and kicking back to the barber - all the while assuring passers-by that he was in fact her son and that he was in fact perfectly fine - she only had two requests for him.

"Make it quick, Andy," she said as she wrangled her son into the chair. "And please, no more jokes."

Tuesday January 25th, 2011

The exercise:

Two haiku about: seeds.

Kat and I are in the midst of figuring out our seed order for the coming garden season. We're hoping to get it decided on and sent out before we leave on Saturday, to lessen the likelihood of the seed companies selling out of what we want.

I got about half of The Honeymoon Posts scheduled last night, and I'm hoping to get the rest done tonight.

Mine:

From this little seed

hundreds of beans will emerge -

Nature's miracle.

*     *     *

Stick them in the ground,

add water, prayer, and threats,

and then, voila! Food.