The exercise:
Write about: the flower.
Today's high was supposedly -12 here, but with the wind finally leaving us alone to go hassle somewhere else it felt damned near tropical.
Things are expected to return to above freezing by the end of the week, so there's that to look forward to as well. Until then? Soups, fireplace, hot drinks.
We might be making our final visit to Vancouver Irrealis tomorrow. Not sure yet, but I have a theme week in mind that I'd like to get started on soon and don't really want to put off the end of this year's saga for seven days or more.
So, likely, the yearlong prompt comes to its conclusion on Monday and then a theme week begins either Tuesday or Wednesday. Consider yourselves warned.
Mine:
I wake in the morning light to find myself alone, a single flower left on his pillow to serve as... something. A replacement? An apology? Thanks?
Ugh, please don't let it be that last one.
Without pausing to study the parting gift, if that's what it is, I shower and get dressed. I've got coffee brewing and breakfast in the oven before I remember my phone is still on my bedside table. I enter the room, grab my cell, and I'm heading for the door when the smell stops me in my tracks.
I turn to take a closer look at the flower, realizing that I'd initially assumed that it was a rose. Typical, predictable rose. But no, that sweet jasmine scent tells me I was wrong.
An orchid. How delightfully unexpected. Where could he have... oh no.
I rush to the window, look down at Mrs. Wheeler's garden. Her prized centerpiece is missing. Maybe I can blame it on a deer or dog or... wait a second. She'll have no reason to suspect this has anything to do with me. I'll just offer condolences when she surely complains to me about it when I pass by on my way home from work this afternoon. No biggie.
Then I see the muddy footprints leading from her yard to my backdoor.
Saturday November 29th, 2014
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: fidgeting.
Inspired by another vendor at today's craft market who just could not leave her display alone. I wasn't much better, at times, but at least I had some good long stretches where I kept my hands off my wares.
Overall I'd say it went pretty well. 33 cards and 1 print sold, and I got a whole lot of very nice feedback, both from customers and other vendors. If the wind had pissed off it would have been even better. They were selling soup and a bun for lunch and apparently there were around $150 less sales this year compared to last.
At $3.50 per person, that's quite a few less people coming out.
Still though, I'm pretty happy with how my first craft market went. Definitely interested in doing it again, hopefully under better circumstances.
Mine:
It needs something -
Just a nudge to the right?
There, that's perfect!
Oh... well... maybe I might...
Write a four line poem about: fidgeting.
Inspired by another vendor at today's craft market who just could not leave her display alone. I wasn't much better, at times, but at least I had some good long stretches where I kept my hands off my wares.
Overall I'd say it went pretty well. 33 cards and 1 print sold, and I got a whole lot of very nice feedback, both from customers and other vendors. If the wind had pissed off it would have been even better. They were selling soup and a bun for lunch and apparently there were around $150 less sales this year compared to last.
At $3.50 per person, that's quite a few less people coming out.
Still though, I'm pretty happy with how my first craft market went. Definitely interested in doing it again, hopefully under better circumstances.
Mine:
It needs something -
Just a nudge to the right?
There, that's perfect!
Oh... well... maybe I might...
Friday November 28th, 2014
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the animal.
The north wind, she be blowing tonight. And has been since mid-afternoon. Temperatures, unsurprisingly, have dropped accordingly.
Right now I'm just hoping the roads and sidewalks won't be too icy tomorrow morning for people to come out to the craft market. I suppose I should also be concerned about being able to get there myself...
I am behind on comments once again, but I'm at least trying to keep it to within the last week. That way I have hope that I might be able to get fully caught up whenever I have a reasonable chunk of time available for that purpose.
Mine:
There is an animal outside of my house, circling it as though it intends to dig us a moat with its footsteps. It does not seem bothered by the wind or cold or dark. The way it moves suggest it could keep this up for days, maybe even weeks.
I knew, I just knew that Grandma shouldn't have shot that baby bear that had been sticking her nose and claws into our garbage cans...
Write four lines of prose about: the animal.
The north wind, she be blowing tonight. And has been since mid-afternoon. Temperatures, unsurprisingly, have dropped accordingly.
Right now I'm just hoping the roads and sidewalks won't be too icy tomorrow morning for people to come out to the craft market. I suppose I should also be concerned about being able to get there myself...
I am behind on comments once again, but I'm at least trying to keep it to within the last week. That way I have hope that I might be able to get fully caught up whenever I have a reasonable chunk of time available for that purpose.
Mine:
There is an animal outside of my house, circling it as though it intends to dig us a moat with its footsteps. It does not seem bothered by the wind or cold or dark. The way it moves suggest it could keep this up for days, maybe even weeks.
I knew, I just knew that Grandma shouldn't have shot that baby bear that had been sticking her nose and claws into our garbage cans...
Thursday November 27th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: Crystal.
Capitalization optional.
I had forgotten about the gang until I came across one of my entries while searching to see if I'd already used a different prompt. To help myself find them whenever I want to revisit their tale I've now given them their own label.
That means they join Bobby and Henri as the only characters on the blog with their own tag. I think so, at least. I might be forgetting somebody else.
Badminton tonight was pretty good. There was more of a mix of skill levels this week, so that helped (me feel better about myself). Plus I'm steadily improving, with the assistance of some of the more veteran players.
My body still hates me right now though.
Mine:
I met Crystal at a dinner party in our final year of college. She was dating Tim then, but that would all end in an ugly mess within a few weeks. Jake brought me but I don't think we were even officially dating - he just didn't want to show up without a girl on his arm.
There was a game on the big screen TV. Football? Probably. Whatever it was, it had the attention of all the boys in the house. Most of the girls were in the kitchen, babbling about inane garbage while sipping cheap wine like it was a rare vintage from some remote, nearly inaccessible area of Europe.
Not my scene, thanks. I grabbed a beer and headed for the porch and fresh air. I was probably out there for five minutes before I realized I wasn't alone.
"Some party, huh?" Crystal said. She was sitting in a big rocking chair and had a beer in each hand. That was the first thing I noticed about her.
"Yeah, it's a real honor to be here," I said, walking over to clink our drinks together. Normally I would have hung back, waited for her to indicate I was welcome to approach. But things between us felt instantly comfortable.
"Pull up a chair," she said, pulling her long blonde hair free of its ponytail. I still remember the night she cut it off, two days before the bank job. "It's going to be a long night."
Write about: Crystal.
Capitalization optional.
I had forgotten about the gang until I came across one of my entries while searching to see if I'd already used a different prompt. To help myself find them whenever I want to revisit their tale I've now given them their own label.
That means they join Bobby and Henri as the only characters on the blog with their own tag. I think so, at least. I might be forgetting somebody else.
Badminton tonight was pretty good. There was more of a mix of skill levels this week, so that helped (me feel better about myself). Plus I'm steadily improving, with the assistance of some of the more veteran players.
My body still hates me right now though.
Mine:
I met Crystal at a dinner party in our final year of college. She was dating Tim then, but that would all end in an ugly mess within a few weeks. Jake brought me but I don't think we were even officially dating - he just didn't want to show up without a girl on his arm.
There was a game on the big screen TV. Football? Probably. Whatever it was, it had the attention of all the boys in the house. Most of the girls were in the kitchen, babbling about inane garbage while sipping cheap wine like it was a rare vintage from some remote, nearly inaccessible area of Europe.
Not my scene, thanks. I grabbed a beer and headed for the porch and fresh air. I was probably out there for five minutes before I realized I wasn't alone.
"Some party, huh?" Crystal said. She was sitting in a big rocking chair and had a beer in each hand. That was the first thing I noticed about her.
"Yeah, it's a real honor to be here," I said, walking over to clink our drinks together. Normally I would have hung back, waited for her to indicate I was welcome to approach. But things between us felt instantly comfortable.
"Pull up a chair," she said, pulling her long blonde hair free of its ponytail. I still remember the night she cut it off, two days before the bank job. "It's going to be a long night."
Wednesday November 26th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: the prankster.
This morning I got started on preparing for the craft market on Saturday. Looking forward to not only doing a market that's more geared toward what I'm selling, but also selling my photographs of Osoyoos in Osoyoos for the first time.
Hopefully the bucketful of crap that is the current forecast for this weekend will be wrong.
Mine:
You could never really relax around Luke. You were always wondering what he was going to pull next, whether you were his intended victim or not. Sure, it sucked when he made you look like a fool in front of half the school. But it was much, much worse when his target believed you were in any way, shape, or form responsible for what happened to him or her.
Especially when Luke decided it was a good idea to start pranking the boys senior football team.
You just never knew what to believe with him. He did tell the truth, on occasion. Just to mix things up, keep us on our toes. But it came out in the exact same tone of voice, with identical facial expressions and gestures, as the lies he told.
I guess that's why nobody thought to help him when he suffered a seizure during chemistry class on Friday morning...
Write about: the prankster.
This morning I got started on preparing for the craft market on Saturday. Looking forward to not only doing a market that's more geared toward what I'm selling, but also selling my photographs of Osoyoos in Osoyoos for the first time.
Hopefully the bucketful of crap that is the current forecast for this weekend will be wrong.
Mine:
You could never really relax around Luke. You were always wondering what he was going to pull next, whether you were his intended victim or not. Sure, it sucked when he made you look like a fool in front of half the school. But it was much, much worse when his target believed you were in any way, shape, or form responsible for what happened to him or her.
Especially when Luke decided it was a good idea to start pranking the boys senior football team.
You just never knew what to believe with him. He did tell the truth, on occasion. Just to mix things up, keep us on our toes. But it came out in the exact same tone of voice, with identical facial expressions and gestures, as the lies he told.
I guess that's why nobody thought to help him when he suffered a seizure during chemistry class on Friday morning...
Tuesday November 25th, 2014
The exercise:
Write two haiku about: the hermit.
That was a much better day. Had a productive morning while Max was with Grandma, shared some yummy leftovers for lunch, and then hung out playing games and watching videos until Kat came home from work.
So of course after he fell asleep at 6pm because he was so tuckered out, he woke up around 9pm and would not go back to sleep. Took probably another two hours before he finally conked out again.
In other news, we are getting a pretty major dump of snow right now. But tomorrow is supposed to be well above freezing, so we'll see how long that lasts.
Mine:
Just a hut atop
a mountain, they say; but to
him, it's a palace
* * *
All day they wonder
what I do; I decline to
return the favor.
Write two haiku about: the hermit.
That was a much better day. Had a productive morning while Max was with Grandma, shared some yummy leftovers for lunch, and then hung out playing games and watching videos until Kat came home from work.
So of course after he fell asleep at 6pm because he was so tuckered out, he woke up around 9pm and would not go back to sleep. Took probably another two hours before he finally conked out again.
In other news, we are getting a pretty major dump of snow right now. But tomorrow is supposed to be well above freezing, so we'll see how long that lasts.
Mine:
Just a hut atop
a mountain, they say; but to
him, it's a palace
* * *
All day they wonder
what I do; I decline to
return the favor.
Monday November 24th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: the twitch.
Not the greatest of days. Things kind of went off the rails around lunchtime between me and Max, a delightful combination of tiredness, overstimulation, and a two year old trying to assert his will. Once I eventually got him out of the house to spend some time in town things improved significantly, but it wasn't a particularly fun stretch.
He's sleeping soundly now though, and I'm enjoying sitting by the fire and trying to come up with a writing prompt and what to write for it. Well, not especially enjoying the coming up with the prompt part.
Something is bound to come to me eventually. It always does.
Ah, there we go. Thanks, random muscle that won't stop twitching for no apparent reason.
Mine:
The spasm in her leg was driving her crazy, one twitch at a time. She felt as though everyone in the room was aware of it - indeed it must have been impossible to miss - and they were all struggling mightily to refrain from commenting.
Or laughing.
It wasn't even occurring at regular intervals. If that had been the case she could have at least braced herself each time it came back around. But no, it would go off three times in a row before going silent for nearly a minute. Then once, a ten second break, again, twenty second reprieve, one more time.
She knew that if it went on much longer she would crack a tooth or burst a blood vessel. Perhaps, she thought as she eyed the office supplies that lay within reach, I can just cut it off. It would have to stop then, right?
Then again... probably not.
Write about: the twitch.
Not the greatest of days. Things kind of went off the rails around lunchtime between me and Max, a delightful combination of tiredness, overstimulation, and a two year old trying to assert his will. Once I eventually got him out of the house to spend some time in town things improved significantly, but it wasn't a particularly fun stretch.
He's sleeping soundly now though, and I'm enjoying sitting by the fire and trying to come up with a writing prompt and what to write for it. Well, not especially enjoying the coming up with the prompt part.
Something is bound to come to me eventually. It always does.
Ah, there we go. Thanks, random muscle that won't stop twitching for no apparent reason.
Mine:
The spasm in her leg was driving her crazy, one twitch at a time. She felt as though everyone in the room was aware of it - indeed it must have been impossible to miss - and they were all struggling mightily to refrain from commenting.
Or laughing.
It wasn't even occurring at regular intervals. If that had been the case she could have at least braced herself each time it came back around. But no, it would go off three times in a row before going silent for nearly a minute. Then once, a ten second break, again, twenty second reprieve, one more time.
She knew that if it went on much longer she would crack a tooth or burst a blood vessel. Perhaps, she thought as she eyed the office supplies that lay within reach, I can just cut it off. It would have to stop then, right?
Then again... probably not.
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