The exercise:
On this, the final day of 2015, let us write about: sleep.
Had fun at the party tonight. The host's son fell asleep watching a movie in his parents room around nine. We took Max home shortly after that and he was tired enough that he was asleep around ten.
I'm not going to last much longer myself, so on with it we go.
Mine:
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Is the last thing he said.
So I guess he was right,
Though this was not the night
He thought it would come true...
But then, neither did you.
Wednesday December 30th, 2015
The exercise:
With 2015 drawing to a close, let us write about something that is: around the corner.
Going to a New Year's Eve party tomorrow night. Don't worry, it will end well before midnight, as pretty much everyone invited has at least one young child. Still looking forward to it, as I haven't seen most of the people who should be there in a long time.
This morning I hauled some wood back to our house, which meant shoving a wheelbarrow through a snow-filled orchard. I think next time I'm borrowing the truck and bringing as much as I can chop.
Mine:
It never seemed to matter where in the city Simon went, the Peterson brothers were always just around the corner. In an upscale neighbourhood or on a derelict street, they were never far away.
And Simon wanted so badly for the Peterson brothers to be far away.
At night, as he tried to fall asleep in his crowded motel room, he would wonder how they did it. It was like they knew where he was going next before he did. Which was impossible, really, seeing as Simon had been picking his destinations at random for the previous week. Sometimes he let the wind carry him with it; others he pushed against its strength.
Either way, he'd turn a corner and find them waiting for him. Sometimes with a knowing smile, other times with a hard stare, but most of all with a look of complete disinterest.
Simon found that last the worst. It was so... demoralizing. Just a reinforcement of the fact that they were always watching him and there was nothing he could hope to do about it.
Well, except kill them. But he had no reason to expect that to work, either. Not the way those two were armed and trained.
Besides, killing the Peterson brothers wouldn't get Simon his daughter back. That, it seemed, could only be achieved by doing what their boss had demanded of him. Which required the death of another individual. One who was proving to be extremely difficult to locate.
And Simon was running out of time to find his assigned target.
With 2015 drawing to a close, let us write about something that is: around the corner.
Going to a New Year's Eve party tomorrow night. Don't worry, it will end well before midnight, as pretty much everyone invited has at least one young child. Still looking forward to it, as I haven't seen most of the people who should be there in a long time.
This morning I hauled some wood back to our house, which meant shoving a wheelbarrow through a snow-filled orchard. I think next time I'm borrowing the truck and bringing as much as I can chop.
Mine:
It never seemed to matter where in the city Simon went, the Peterson brothers were always just around the corner. In an upscale neighbourhood or on a derelict street, they were never far away.
And Simon wanted so badly for the Peterson brothers to be far away.
At night, as he tried to fall asleep in his crowded motel room, he would wonder how they did it. It was like they knew where he was going next before he did. Which was impossible, really, seeing as Simon had been picking his destinations at random for the previous week. Sometimes he let the wind carry him with it; others he pushed against its strength.
Either way, he'd turn a corner and find them waiting for him. Sometimes with a knowing smile, other times with a hard stare, but most of all with a look of complete disinterest.
Simon found that last the worst. It was so... demoralizing. Just a reinforcement of the fact that they were always watching him and there was nothing he could hope to do about it.
Well, except kill them. But he had no reason to expect that to work, either. Not the way those two were armed and trained.
Besides, killing the Peterson brothers wouldn't get Simon his daughter back. That, it seemed, could only be achieved by doing what their boss had demanded of him. Which required the death of another individual. One who was proving to be extremely difficult to locate.
And Simon was running out of time to find his assigned target.
Tuesday December 29th, 2015
The exercise:
Write two haiku about: maps.
At long last, Max's bed has been constructed and is currently in use. It was not without its final challenges this afternoon, but I had Kat's dad helping for a few minutes and that was enough to get it done.
And now I am looking at the blank wall behind his headboard and really wanting a large map of the world up there. Maybe with animals, appropriately geographically placed and all that.
I feel another internet wormhole coming on...
Mine:
We should be hot. Why
are we cold? Oh, I see. The
map is upside down.
* * *
Pressed flat against the
tree stump with night closing in;
which path takes him home?
Write two haiku about: maps.
At long last, Max's bed has been constructed and is currently in use. It was not without its final challenges this afternoon, but I had Kat's dad helping for a few minutes and that was enough to get it done.
And now I am looking at the blank wall behind his headboard and really wanting a large map of the world up there. Maybe with animals, appropriately geographically placed and all that.
I feel another internet wormhole coming on...
Mine:
We should be hot. Why
are we cold? Oh, I see. The
map is upside down.
* * *
Pressed flat against the
tree stump with night closing in;
which path takes him home?
Monday December 28th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the accomplice.
We have returned home. Today was actually a pretty smooth trip, as Max was basically entertained by a video he was watching in the car and generally pretty excited about coming back to Osoyoos. The road got a bit dicey in places with snow and slush and ice, but it was manageable.
Now I am ready to sleep for a week. I'm sure Max will be agreeable to that as well, right?
Mine:
I never did set out to be nobody's accomplice. I can promise you that much. Swear on my Mama's bible, on whatever page you like. I ain't got no reason to lie.
Richard was such a nice boy. Always polite to his elders, never mean to his classmates. Not even me, and everybody was mean to me. How could we not be best friends?
We had some fun, Richard and I. Nothing bad or dangerous or whatever. Just simple, innocent fun.
At least, I always thought it was. Looking back now though? I'm not so sure. Did he steal money out of my sister's purse when I wasn't looking? Did he keep some of those matchbooks when we was supposed to give them all back?
Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. I never knew it if he did. I just helped him by distracting people or by carrying heavy things. There was even this one time when I got something off a really high shelf for him, what with... him... being... so... short... and...
You know what? Maybe he did just use me all along. Maybe Richard and I weren't never really friends. I dunno. There's one thing I do know, and it's this:
I never meant for nobody to get hurt.
And I'm real sorry somebody did get hurt.
Real, real bad.
Write about: the accomplice.
We have returned home. Today was actually a pretty smooth trip, as Max was basically entertained by a video he was watching in the car and generally pretty excited about coming back to Osoyoos. The road got a bit dicey in places with snow and slush and ice, but it was manageable.
Now I am ready to sleep for a week. I'm sure Max will be agreeable to that as well, right?
Mine:
I never did set out to be nobody's accomplice. I can promise you that much. Swear on my Mama's bible, on whatever page you like. I ain't got no reason to lie.
Richard was such a nice boy. Always polite to his elders, never mean to his classmates. Not even me, and everybody was mean to me. How could we not be best friends?
We had some fun, Richard and I. Nothing bad or dangerous or whatever. Just simple, innocent fun.
At least, I always thought it was. Looking back now though? I'm not so sure. Did he steal money out of my sister's purse when I wasn't looking? Did he keep some of those matchbooks when we was supposed to give them all back?
Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. I never knew it if he did. I just helped him by distracting people or by carrying heavy things. There was even this one time when I got something off a really high shelf for him, what with... him... being... so... short... and...
You know what? Maybe he did just use me all along. Maybe Richard and I weren't never really friends. I dunno. There's one thing I do know, and it's this:
I never meant for nobody to get hurt.
And I'm real sorry somebody did get hurt.
Real, real bad.
Sunday December 27th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the association.
We've made it safely to Vancouver. Tomorrow we continue eastward to home.
P.S. I'm working on catching up on comments before year's end. Please don't let that be an indication that I don't want new comments before that time. This blog gets quite lonely without your input and feedback.
Mine:
We were trying to catch the ferry that left Vancouver Island at 12:50 this afternoon, but we missed getting on it by a couple dozen cars. That meant we had to wait around for the 2:10 sailing (which ended up leaving closer to 2:30), so we spent most of that time in the little shopping and food court area of the ferry terminal.
At one point I needed to use the washroom, so I left Max with Kat and joined the lineup to use the facilities. When it was my turn I went into one of the two stalls and closed the door behind me.
The first thing that occurred to me was that the stall was designed exactly the same as the stalls on the ferries themselves. Same colour, same layout.
The next thing I noticed was the sensation of movement I felt, like I was on the ferry and the ship was rocking side to side.
That's a pretty strong association going on right there.
And that was before we got on our ferry and travelled through big waves to get back to Vancouver. Thankfully I didn't need to use the washroom onboard.
Then again, I'm still feeling that sensation of movement now that I'm in Kat's aunt's house. I'm hoping it goes away by the time I wake up tomorrow.
Write about: the association.
We've made it safely to Vancouver. Tomorrow we continue eastward to home.
P.S. I'm working on catching up on comments before year's end. Please don't let that be an indication that I don't want new comments before that time. This blog gets quite lonely without your input and feedback.
Mine:
We were trying to catch the ferry that left Vancouver Island at 12:50 this afternoon, but we missed getting on it by a couple dozen cars. That meant we had to wait around for the 2:10 sailing (which ended up leaving closer to 2:30), so we spent most of that time in the little shopping and food court area of the ferry terminal.
At one point I needed to use the washroom, so I left Max with Kat and joined the lineup to use the facilities. When it was my turn I went into one of the two stalls and closed the door behind me.
The first thing that occurred to me was that the stall was designed exactly the same as the stalls on the ferries themselves. Same colour, same layout.
The next thing I noticed was the sensation of movement I felt, like I was on the ferry and the ship was rocking side to side.
That's a pretty strong association going on right there.
And that was before we got on our ferry and travelled through big waves to get back to Vancouver. Thankfully I didn't need to use the washroom onboard.
Then again, I'm still feeling that sensation of movement now that I'm in Kat's aunt's house. I'm hoping it goes away by the time I wake up tomorrow.
Saturday December 26th, 2015
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the bargain hunter.
We're heading back to Vancouver tomorrow morning, then heading for Osoyoos on Monday. Feels like it's too soon to be leaving here.
Mine:
Out fighting the crowds,
Looking for a deal;
If it costs too much,
He can always steal.
Write a four line poem about: the bargain hunter.
We're heading back to Vancouver tomorrow morning, then heading for Osoyoos on Monday. Feels like it's too soon to be leaving here.
Mine:
Out fighting the crowds,
Looking for a deal;
If it costs too much,
He can always steal.
Friday December 25th, 2015
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about something that is: unwrapped.
Merry Christmas :)
Mine:
I'm not sure what happened. We'd all done our best to keep it under wraps. Maybe a protruding nail was the source of our misery, or perhaps a careless footstep.
All I know for certain is that when I glanced behind me I saw that the mummy had been unwrapped and... well, I haven't had a proper's night sleep in the twenty years that have passed since that fateful moment.
Write four lines of prose about something that is: unwrapped.
Merry Christmas :)
Mine:
I'm not sure what happened. We'd all done our best to keep it under wraps. Maybe a protruding nail was the source of our misery, or perhaps a careless footstep.
All I know for certain is that when I glanced behind me I saw that the mummy had been unwrapped and... well, I haven't had a proper's night sleep in the twenty years that have passed since that fateful moment.
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