The exercise:
Write about: the case.
Natalie came over this morning to play with Max. For a very long time they were in Max's room with the door closed, making just enough noise for me to not worry about them. It was great.
We're very fortunate that they play so well together. Here's hoping that when there are four of them (number three will be arriving next month!) that the dynamic continues to be this good.
Mine:
"As this is your first day, each of you will be assigned two cases."
That's it? Two? I'll be knocking on his door for more work by lunch!
"One case will be current. Basic, fairly straightforward stuff. General, you're a warm body and that's all that's required to finish things up, kind of work."
Did I say by lunch? I should have said by coffee break. First coffee break.
"The second will be an older case. Really old. Crimes that have gone unsolved for years and years. Covered with dust and complicated. Intricate. Convoluted. Strange."
Now this sounds interesting.
"The expectation is that you will be a fresh pair of eyes, bring a new perspective to these cases. You will find a detail or ask a question that men and women who are much smarter than yourselves have missed. You will uncover something, no matter how seemingly trivial."
Give me my mine already. Let me at it.
"You are not expected to solve these mysteries."
Maybe you don't figure any of them will be cracked. But you should expect one to have its perpetrator brought to justice. Mine.
"Good luck, ladies and gentlemen."
Luck? Luck will have absolutely nothing to do with this.
"And welcome to the force."
Let. Me. At. Them.
Saturday January 30th, 2016
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about someone or something that is: shallow.
Almost out of January. Almost.
We organized our seed inventory for this year's garden this morning and Kat put in the order for what we need this evening while I was putting Max to bed. So spring's pretty much here, right?
Mine:
He says that he is done,
That there is nobody left to save;
But we all know that he's
Buried his faith in a shallow grave.
Write a four line poem about someone or something that is: shallow.
Almost out of January. Almost.
We organized our seed inventory for this year's garden this morning and Kat put in the order for what we need this evening while I was putting Max to bed. So spring's pretty much here, right?
Mine:
He says that he is done,
That there is nobody left to save;
But we all know that he's
Buried his faith in a shallow grave.
Friday January 29th, 2016
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the tailor.
Apologies, mine ended up being something that probably needed more than four lines. I did what I could with it anyway though.
Both jobs went well today. I am very tired now though, so I'll just get on with the show.
Mine:
"The alterations you requested have been completed," the man behind the counter told me, his expression and tone combining to leave no doubts about how unimpressed he was.
"Don't be so grumpy, Pierre," I said as I reclaimed my suit. "You are being paid handsomely for your work - and discretion - after all."
"Not handsomely enough," he said, but he took the envelope stuffed with cash anyway... because of course he did.
Write four lines of prose about: the tailor.
Apologies, mine ended up being something that probably needed more than four lines. I did what I could with it anyway though.
Both jobs went well today. I am very tired now though, so I'll just get on with the show.
Mine:
"The alterations you requested have been completed," the man behind the counter told me, his expression and tone combining to leave no doubts about how unimpressed he was.
"Don't be so grumpy, Pierre," I said as I reclaimed my suit. "You are being paid handsomely for your work - and discretion - after all."
"Not handsomely enough," he said, but he took the envelope stuffed with cash anyway... because of course he did.
Thursday January 28th, 2016
The exercise:
Write about something that has been: abandoned.
Happy to report that my arm was only a little sore this morning, as opposed to the paralysis I was half expecting. Work went well also, despite that being my first shift at Town Hall since I was trained last May.
Tomorrow I've got a two hour shift there again (11:30 to 1:30) and then I'm back at the community centre to do the closing shift (4 to 9). They'd actually initially asked me to do 8:30 to 1:30 again, but then they realized that I was also working at the community centre and that would have put me into double time.
Which, I was informed, 'we don't want that'.
I'm assuming the we in this instance is the people responsible for payroll and budgets and things. Because I was all for it, thank you very much.
Also: apparently two people retired late last year and were replaced by people who had more seniority than me in the relief pool. I've been told to expect more calls because of this. I guess I'll see what that actually looks like in the next few months, but so far so good.
Mine:
"And here's the desk you'll be using today."
"Front and center, I see. Nice, nice."
"So basically we just want you to answer the phone and deal with any people who drop by, looking for information or what have you."
"Great, yeah, sure... I can do that."
"All right then! Good luck and we'll see you in six hours."
"Sorry, what? Where's everybody else going?"
"Management have us all in a training session today. That's why they called you in, to cover for us!"
"Oh, uh... right. Is there, uh, anybody I can call if I have questions or run into trouble or...?"
"Nope, not really. Talk to ya later!"
"... okay?"
"Assuming you're still here when we get back."
"Oh, of course I'll be he-"
"And still breathing."
"What?"
"Have fun!"
Write about something that has been: abandoned.
Happy to report that my arm was only a little sore this morning, as opposed to the paralysis I was half expecting. Work went well also, despite that being my first shift at Town Hall since I was trained last May.
Tomorrow I've got a two hour shift there again (11:30 to 1:30) and then I'm back at the community centre to do the closing shift (4 to 9). They'd actually initially asked me to do 8:30 to 1:30 again, but then they realized that I was also working at the community centre and that would have put me into double time.
Which, I was informed, 'we don't want that'.
I'm assuming the we in this instance is the people responsible for payroll and budgets and things. Because I was all for it, thank you very much.
Also: apparently two people retired late last year and were replaced by people who had more seniority than me in the relief pool. I've been told to expect more calls because of this. I guess I'll see what that actually looks like in the next few months, but so far so good.
Mine:
"And here's the desk you'll be using today."
"Front and center, I see. Nice, nice."
"So basically we just want you to answer the phone and deal with any people who drop by, looking for information or what have you."
"Great, yeah, sure... I can do that."
"All right then! Good luck and we'll see you in six hours."
"Sorry, what? Where's everybody else going?"
"Management have us all in a training session today. That's why they called you in, to cover for us!"
"Oh, uh... right. Is there, uh, anybody I can call if I have questions or run into trouble or...?"
"Nope, not really. Talk to ya later!"
"... okay?"
"Assuming you're still here when we get back."
"Oh, of course I'll be he-"
"And still breathing."
"What?"
"Have fun!"
Wednesday January 27th, 2016
The exercise:
Write about: neighbours.
I nailed the back of my left arm, just above the elbow, on the sharp corner of the new fridge's door handle this afternoon. I'm hoping I'll still be able to fully extend my arm when I wake up tomorrow morning.
Especially with having to work at Town Hall, covering for the receptionist, from 8:30 to 1:30.
I still have no idea why I'm suddenly getting all these calls after seven months of nothing. Tis the season to be sick, maybe?
Mine:
Nicholas was sitting in his favorite chair, a plush recliner with enough beer stains to leave its original colour in some doubt, when the doorbell first rang. He hadn't had a chance to move before it rang four more times.
"Hold on! Hold on!" he shouted, fumbling for the lever that would allow his feet to touch the carpeted floor. "I'm coming!"
Despite his pleas - or, perhaps, because of them - the bell rang nearly a dozen more times before he reached the front door. By that point Nicholas was about ready to knock somebody's block off. Preferably whoever it was that was standing on his porch.
"What the... oh." Nicholas cleared his throat, forcing his voice back down to a more conversational level. "Hello, Henry."
"That's Henri, Nickyboy." A cloud of cigarette smoke obscured the neighbours from each other's view before Nicholas waved it furiously away. "You know that. I've told you at least twenty times now. Don't make me tell you again."
"Or what?" Nicholas regretted the challenge the moment after it had escaped his lips.
"Or I'll have your dog shaved bald and my name tattooed on its sides," Henri said, tilting his head to the side and allowing a bored expression to settle on his face.
"That... that won't be necessary..."
"And if that doesn't work," Henri continued after exhaling another cloud of smoke in his neighbour's face, "I'll have your son's name legally changed to mine."
"You can't do that!" Nicholas shouted, his returning anger pushing caution aside. "I'll call the police!"
"Nickyboy," Henri said with a smile that would frighten the Grinch, "you do not want to test me on this."
The two men stared at each other for a long time then. Nicholas was red in the face and breathing hard. Henri was the picture of calm and patience - a terrifying omen to anyone that knew him in the slightest.
"Whatever, Henri," Nicholas said at last. "What did you come over for anyway?"
"Oh, right," Henri said, perking up noticeably. "I was wondering if I could bother you for some sugar?"
Write about: neighbours.
I nailed the back of my left arm, just above the elbow, on the sharp corner of the new fridge's door handle this afternoon. I'm hoping I'll still be able to fully extend my arm when I wake up tomorrow morning.
Especially with having to work at Town Hall, covering for the receptionist, from 8:30 to 1:30.
I still have no idea why I'm suddenly getting all these calls after seven months of nothing. Tis the season to be sick, maybe?
Mine:
Nicholas was sitting in his favorite chair, a plush recliner with enough beer stains to leave its original colour in some doubt, when the doorbell first rang. He hadn't had a chance to move before it rang four more times.
"Hold on! Hold on!" he shouted, fumbling for the lever that would allow his feet to touch the carpeted floor. "I'm coming!"
Despite his pleas - or, perhaps, because of them - the bell rang nearly a dozen more times before he reached the front door. By that point Nicholas was about ready to knock somebody's block off. Preferably whoever it was that was standing on his porch.
"What the... oh." Nicholas cleared his throat, forcing his voice back down to a more conversational level. "Hello, Henry."
"That's Henri, Nickyboy." A cloud of cigarette smoke obscured the neighbours from each other's view before Nicholas waved it furiously away. "You know that. I've told you at least twenty times now. Don't make me tell you again."
"Or what?" Nicholas regretted the challenge the moment after it had escaped his lips.
"Or I'll have your dog shaved bald and my name tattooed on its sides," Henri said, tilting his head to the side and allowing a bored expression to settle on his face.
"That... that won't be necessary..."
"And if that doesn't work," Henri continued after exhaling another cloud of smoke in his neighbour's face, "I'll have your son's name legally changed to mine."
"You can't do that!" Nicholas shouted, his returning anger pushing caution aside. "I'll call the police!"
"Nickyboy," Henri said with a smile that would frighten the Grinch, "you do not want to test me on this."
The two men stared at each other for a long time then. Nicholas was red in the face and breathing hard. Henri was the picture of calm and patience - a terrifying omen to anyone that knew him in the slightest.
"Whatever, Henri," Nicholas said at last. "What did you come over for anyway?"
"Oh, right," Henri said, perking up noticeably. "I was wondering if I could bother you for some sugar?"
Tuesday January 26th, 2016
The exercise:
Write two haiku about: melting.
Max had very little interest in going to daycare this morning. I got him there eventually, and only had to stay a few extra minutes before he let me leave.
Max had even less interest in coming home from daycare this afternoon. Kat had to drag him out of there while he was crying. Because he was having so much fun and he wasn't ready to leave. He wants her to pick him up later next time.
I guarantee you by Thursday morning we'll be back to the not wanting to go stage of the daycare loop.
Guaranteed.
Mine:
Ice cream vanishing,
flowing like cold, sugary
lava down my arm
* * *
Steady drip, drip of
icicles melting to death;
spring will be here soon
Write two haiku about: melting.
Max had very little interest in going to daycare this morning. I got him there eventually, and only had to stay a few extra minutes before he let me leave.
Max had even less interest in coming home from daycare this afternoon. Kat had to drag him out of there while he was crying. Because he was having so much fun and he wasn't ready to leave. He wants her to pick him up later next time.
I guarantee you by Thursday morning we'll be back to the not wanting to go stage of the daycare loop.
Guaranteed.
Mine:
Ice cream vanishing,
flowing like cold, sugary
lava down my arm
* * *
Steady drip, drip of
icicles melting to death;
spring will be here soon
Monday January 25th, 2016
The exercise:
Write about: the rift.
Max and I returned to soccer class this afternoon and it was a lot of fun. There were a whole lot of kids missing from the first class, but that was likely due to illness and kids being kids. Hopefully we can be there again next week to see how many other kids are sticking with it.
This morning I managed to finally get started on catching up on comments, yet again. Caught it just before I fell a full two weeks behind. Hurray?
Mine:
The three of us had been travelling westward on foot for weeks. Though we were strangers thrown together by chance, a close friendship had developed in that time. It was a kinship we all desperately needed in those days.
I remember Shelby was telling us about a dog her family had taken in when she was young. Maybe five or six years old? Something like that. It sounded like he was a real sweet, friendly puppy. Slept at the foot of her bed at night, keeping her safe.
Right up until the night he tried to tear her face off.
As we moved through a forest crowded with towering trees and littered with broken branches, it was difficult for me to ignore the potential similarities to our current situation. I managed to not look at Wayne directly after she'd finished her tale. I guess I was trying to convince myself that he truly was the kind-hearted protector he'd presented himself as during our time together.
I suspect a part of me knew differently though.
Rain clouds had begun to gather as we broke through the treeline into a vast, sprawling meadow. Without anything needing to be said, we all paused. It was still early, before lunch I think, but the thought of being caught in the open during a bad storm made thoughts of lingering in the trees undeniably tempting.
"Do we risk it?" Shelby asked. I wasn't sure which option she considered the bigger risk: staying or going.
"We can stay dry and hide ourselves here," Wayne said after a wary glance over his shoulder. "There's been no sign of pursuit for days. What do you think Leo?"
"I say we keep going." I wanted to stay, keep dry. It seemed like the smart thing to do. But fear was at the wheel back then and I had stopped fighting for control a long time before that. The thought of waiting around for them to find us terrified me.
"Me too," Shelby said. I wish she hadn't. I wish it had been just me that couldn't think straight.
It could have worked out all right for us. We may have found more secure shelter before the worst of the weather came down on our heads. Our trail could have been washed clean, turning us into ghosts on a broken landscape.
But it turned out that landscape was more broken that we could have ever dreamed.
As it was, some two or three hours later, when we crested a hill and saw the massive rift in the land before us - one that stretched from horizon to horizon - it was too late. There was no going around it. No possible way to cross it. Nothing to do but turn back, hoping to return to the forest before they found us.
And the rain began to fall then, in heavy, pounding droplets.
Write about: the rift.
Max and I returned to soccer class this afternoon and it was a lot of fun. There were a whole lot of kids missing from the first class, but that was likely due to illness and kids being kids. Hopefully we can be there again next week to see how many other kids are sticking with it.
This morning I managed to finally get started on catching up on comments, yet again. Caught it just before I fell a full two weeks behind. Hurray?
Mine:
The three of us had been travelling westward on foot for weeks. Though we were strangers thrown together by chance, a close friendship had developed in that time. It was a kinship we all desperately needed in those days.
I remember Shelby was telling us about a dog her family had taken in when she was young. Maybe five or six years old? Something like that. It sounded like he was a real sweet, friendly puppy. Slept at the foot of her bed at night, keeping her safe.
Right up until the night he tried to tear her face off.
As we moved through a forest crowded with towering trees and littered with broken branches, it was difficult for me to ignore the potential similarities to our current situation. I managed to not look at Wayne directly after she'd finished her tale. I guess I was trying to convince myself that he truly was the kind-hearted protector he'd presented himself as during our time together.
I suspect a part of me knew differently though.
Rain clouds had begun to gather as we broke through the treeline into a vast, sprawling meadow. Without anything needing to be said, we all paused. It was still early, before lunch I think, but the thought of being caught in the open during a bad storm made thoughts of lingering in the trees undeniably tempting.
"Do we risk it?" Shelby asked. I wasn't sure which option she considered the bigger risk: staying or going.
"We can stay dry and hide ourselves here," Wayne said after a wary glance over his shoulder. "There's been no sign of pursuit for days. What do you think Leo?"
"I say we keep going." I wanted to stay, keep dry. It seemed like the smart thing to do. But fear was at the wheel back then and I had stopped fighting for control a long time before that. The thought of waiting around for them to find us terrified me.
"Me too," Shelby said. I wish she hadn't. I wish it had been just me that couldn't think straight.
It could have worked out all right for us. We may have found more secure shelter before the worst of the weather came down on our heads. Our trail could have been washed clean, turning us into ghosts on a broken landscape.
But it turned out that landscape was more broken that we could have ever dreamed.
As it was, some two or three hours later, when we crested a hill and saw the massive rift in the land before us - one that stretched from horizon to horizon - it was too late. There was no going around it. No possible way to cross it. Nothing to do but turn back, hoping to return to the forest before they found us.
And the rain began to fall then, in heavy, pounding droplets.
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