Tuesday September 7th, 2010

The exercise:

Two haiku about: weight.

We took the cabin garbage to the landfill today (the old toilet and sink, a lot of unusable wood, innumerable other bits and pieces) and I had a lot of fun. It's been years since I've been to the dump, so I think it was a bit of the kid in me coming out to play. Plus I think it's a very guy thing to do and that's rather satisfying in its own right.

Anyway, the connection to today's prompt: they weighed the truck when we arrived and again when we left and charged us based on how much we'd unloaded. So there you go.

Mine:

His back is bent, not

with age but with the weight of

words left unspoken.

*     *     *

This diet you're on

is surely working! What's that?

Oh, you were pregnant...

Monday September 6th, 2010

The exercise:

Let us write about: the cabin in the woods.

We did some good cleaning work in the cabin today before heading into town to make a few purchases. We came home with a hot water tank, a toilet, a medicine cabinet, and some insulation. We also put in an order for a bathroom sink, which should be coming in next week.

I had a few firsts today, but I think the one that stands out the most is this one: for the first time in my life I both swept and vacuumed a bathtub.

I think that should give you a pretty good idea what we're up against.

Mine:

Crickets.

There must have been a million of them gathered outside. By the sounds of it they were having the party of the bloody century and they'd all had too much to drink. Complete loss of speech volume control and all.

I'd gone to the cabin to escape the noises of the city: cars, people, skateboards, all of it. I was desperate for solitude. Peace. Quiet.

Instead I found myself in the middle of the forest surrounded by the deafening chirping of bloody crickets. And I couldn't sleep a bloody wink.

So at three o'clock in the morning I flopped out of bed, grabbed a couple of rusting hammers off the shelf next to the fireplace, and went hunting for the little bastards.

Sunday September 5th, 2010

The exercise:

Your prompt today: before and after.

I took some 'before' shots of the cabin today. Cleaning begins tomorrow, then hopefully the electricians will come this week and the plumber next week. I'll save the 'before' shots until I can also post the 'after' shots.

But, fear not! I still have pictures to share with you today! As mentioned previously, I wanted to show off the zoom on my camera. So first, we have the fully zoomed out picture:

This is the view we get every morning as we exit from the bottom floor on the way out to the garden. A row of monster sunflowers, the neighbour's vineyard, a slight glimpse of the lake. Not bad, really.

And here's the zoomed in as far as the camera will go shot:

That would be the cluster of sunflowers around the middle of the first picture. I've always wanted a camera with a good zoom on it... and I have to say it's as great as I expected it would be :)

Mine:

Before she arrived, he was a confident, capable man. The sort of fellow everyone in a small town turns to when they needed something done quickly and done right. His laugh was honest and infectious, his eyes full of a vitality that never seemed to wane.

After she left, he was like a bombed out building: devoid of all the joy, love, and laughter that had once brimmed within. At first folk still turned to him for help, but that didn't last past a handful of letdowns and harsh refusals. He wasn't seen around town much, outside the odd visit to the grocery store and the much more regular appearances at the liquor store.

I heard she's got her sights set on me next. I'm not worried though; her charms won't work on me. I'm too strong, too sure of who I am. She can't take that away from me.

Not like she did with him.

Saturday September 4th, 2010

The exercise:

A four line jailhouse prayer poem.

We had a decent market this morning, though it wasn't as busy as we were expecting for the long weekend.

I've been zonked out on the couch for the last hour and a bit, so this should be entertaining. Apologies in advance if mine is complete crap. And for the rather random prompt.

Which took me another hour to think of, in between spacing out and... more spacing out.

Mine:

Dear Lord, I don't want money,

Or a Caribbean honey;

Lord, if you're really up there...

Could you short out the electric chair?

Friday September 3rd, 2010

The exercise:

You've got four lines of prose. Tell me about a face.

The truck is all packed up to go to the market tomorrow morning (hurray for cooler nights which mean we don't need to stick the more fragile veggies in the cooler), so all we have to do when we wake up is eat breakfast, cut some sunflowers, toss 'em in the back of the truck, and we'll be on the road.

Here's hoping the last long weekend of the summer is a good one for us.

Mine:

They say mine is a face that launched a thousand criminal investigations - after all, how could a man that looks like I do not be guilty of something?

So am I free because I'm an innocent man with an unfortunate visage, or because I'm very adept at hiding bodies? That's for me to know and you to find out... if you can.

Care to investigate?

Thursday September 2nd, 2010

The exercise:

Let us write about: the gladiator.

We had an electrician come by to check out the cabin in the orchard (aka our new home for the next few years) to assess what needed to be done and give us a quote on the damage. It turned out that not too much needs doing and the estimate wasn't nearly as bad as we were expecting.

So, all in all, it was a good visit. They'll be coming by next week to get things going and then the renovations will become our focus as the garden work begins to slow down. No real idea when we'll be able to move in there, but it's nice to get started.

Mine:

The man stands ready in the hall,

Listening to the crowd chant his name;

Whether he or his foe greets death,

He knows to them it's all the same -

They are merely hungry for blood.

The gate is pulled open by slaves

Foolish enough to envy him;

He steps onto the crimson sands

And the crowd howls its fevered hymn,

Their souls as clean as stable mud.

He looks across the arena

To see the man he's meant to kill;

There is no fluttering of nerves,

For he has great faith in his skills -

He has done this ten times or more.

The two men meet in the middle

Of a world gone completely mad;

The challenge quickly overcome,

He walks away to cheers and clad

In the sad disguise of victor.

Wednesday September 1st, 2010

The exercise:

Include a rainbow (or two!) in your writing today.

Inspired by this picture of a double rainbow I took while standing on the porch on Monday during the rain shower:

Delivered this week's order to the restaurant this morning and managed to get the veggies safely inside right before a torrential downpour hit. I got soaked going back to the car, but at least the food avoided the worst of it.

Maybe tomorrow I'll stop talking about the rain. If you're lucky.

Mine:

"What the hell is this?"

"What does it look like? It's me pot o' gold, just like you wanted! Can't you see this is the end of the rainbow?"

"Do I look like a bloody idiot?"

"Well, now that you mention it, you do look a wee daft..."

"No. Stop talking. Now listen to me, very carefully. This is what you're going to do: you're going to take me to your real, honest to goodness, pot of gold. Right. Now. And if you take me to another thimble full of leprechaun piss I will drown you in it."