The exercise:
Write two haiku about: Earth.
And, just like that, we're done with the harvest boxes. I am already looking forward to next Tuesday and its relative peace and relaxation.
The final day was not without complications, of course. Kat didn't get home from work until nearly 4 (box pickup is between 4:30 and 5:30) and Max was not super interested in napping. So I had to take him back up to Grandma, who was thankfully still available to watch him, and then borrow their car to bring the produce back to the house.
Because not only did Kat have our car, but Kat's dad had the truck. Squeezing 14 crates of produce into a Civic is not something I generally consider a good time.
Anyway, it all worked out in the end, as it always seems to on box day. So we're done with it for this year... and likely much longer than that.
It's still under discussion, but at this point I would say it's very likely that we won't be doing the box program next year. Probably not the year after that either, and quite possibly never again. It's just an incredible amount of work and the return doesn't really measure up. So we're going to try doing things a little differently next year and we'll go from there.
I am very much looking forward to the experiment.
Speaking of things I'm anticipating, we're now one month away from Max's second birthday. Hard to imagine.
Mine:
Spinning and spinning,
Like a child trying to look
Everywhere at once
* * *
Visitors stop to
search but cannot find signs of
intelligent life
Monday October 6th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: the penguin.
Feeling mostly better today, aside from some lingering nasal grossness. Max is also on the mend, though his lingering nasal issues would be better described as nasty. Kat has also hopefully turned the corner on her cold, so fingers crossed that we'll all be back to full health in a day or two.
I got started on our final box harvest of the year late this morning and late this afternoon, collecting butternut and spaghetti squash, as well as tomatoes and zucchini. Still a fair amount of work to do tomorrow while Kat is away teaching, but it should be manageable.
The weather here, by the way, has been quite lovely. I was just realizing I hadn't mentioned it recently, so I wanted to point out how warm and sunny the days have been lately.
Mine:
Night fell on the rainy streets of the city with deceptive speed, sending the remaining pedestrians scurrying for the relative safety of their homes. Water collected in puddles both shallow and deep, casting murky reflections of the few working street lights.
High above, standing at the window of an abandoned warehouse, he watched. Tapping the silver tip of his black umbrella against the rotting floorboards, he waited. Grinding his teeth the way his dentist insisted that he stop doing, he sighed.
Loudly.
The room he occupied also hosted a large, sturdy desk and a dented filing cabinet that no longer closed properly. Otherwise it was empty - no chairs, no shelves, and certainly no art on the walls. And, more to his current displeasure, no henchmen.
They should have returned an hour ago, at least. Bags weighed down with stolen goods of varying size and value. Perhaps even with a kidnap victim or two in tow. But no, nothing. Which, of course, could only mean one simple, aggravating thing.
That meddlesome Batman had interfered in his business yet again.
Write about: the penguin.
Feeling mostly better today, aside from some lingering nasal grossness. Max is also on the mend, though his lingering nasal issues would be better described as nasty. Kat has also hopefully turned the corner on her cold, so fingers crossed that we'll all be back to full health in a day or two.
I got started on our final box harvest of the year late this morning and late this afternoon, collecting butternut and spaghetti squash, as well as tomatoes and zucchini. Still a fair amount of work to do tomorrow while Kat is away teaching, but it should be manageable.
The weather here, by the way, has been quite lovely. I was just realizing I hadn't mentioned it recently, so I wanted to point out how warm and sunny the days have been lately.
Mine:
Night fell on the rainy streets of the city with deceptive speed, sending the remaining pedestrians scurrying for the relative safety of their homes. Water collected in puddles both shallow and deep, casting murky reflections of the few working street lights.
High above, standing at the window of an abandoned warehouse, he watched. Tapping the silver tip of his black umbrella against the rotting floorboards, he waited. Grinding his teeth the way his dentist insisted that he stop doing, he sighed.
Loudly.
The room he occupied also hosted a large, sturdy desk and a dented filing cabinet that no longer closed properly. Otherwise it was empty - no chairs, no shelves, and certainly no art on the walls. And, more to his current displeasure, no henchmen.
They should have returned an hour ago, at least. Bags weighed down with stolen goods of varying size and value. Perhaps even with a kidnap victim or two in tow. But no, nothing. Which, of course, could only mean one simple, aggravating thing.
That meddlesome Batman had interfered in his business yet again.
Sunday October 5th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: congestion.
About two weeks ago I had an idea of where I wanted to go with my installment in October's edition of Vancouver Irrealis. At the moment, I couldn't possibly tell you what it was. I'm blaming it on this cold, if that's okay with you guys.
Anyway. I'm delaying this month's visit to our yearlong prompt until later in the week. At which point, hopefully, I'll be thinking a little more clearly.
Mine:
"Jeez," I muttered to my best/only friend in high school, "the hallways keep getting more and more congested."
"No doubt," Fitzgerald replied. "Say, you know what it reminds me of?"
Now, Fitzgerald was not a particularly nice guy. I'd overheard one of the teachers saying that he thought he was "a bit of a prick" and... well, I'd say that was pretty generous. I guess you have to be at least a little mean if you want to survive being named Fitzgerald.
But he was a good friend to me. Always there when I needed him, or just about. More than anyone else in our stupid little town anyway.
Either way, all I'm trying to say is this: whatever he was about to say was not going to be very complimentary to the denizens of Saint Jacob's High School.
"What?" I asked, keeping my voice low in a vain attempt to get him to do the same.
"My nose when I had that cold last week. A never ending supply of slimy gunk that I wish would be vaporized by a robot before I ever had to look at it."
Well. You can't say I didn't warn you.
Write about: congestion.
About two weeks ago I had an idea of where I wanted to go with my installment in October's edition of Vancouver Irrealis. At the moment, I couldn't possibly tell you what it was. I'm blaming it on this cold, if that's okay with you guys.
Anyway. I'm delaying this month's visit to our yearlong prompt until later in the week. At which point, hopefully, I'll be thinking a little more clearly.
Mine:
"Jeez," I muttered to my best/only friend in high school, "the hallways keep getting more and more congested."
"No doubt," Fitzgerald replied. "Say, you know what it reminds me of?"
Now, Fitzgerald was not a particularly nice guy. I'd overheard one of the teachers saying that he thought he was "a bit of a prick" and... well, I'd say that was pretty generous. I guess you have to be at least a little mean if you want to survive being named Fitzgerald.
But he was a good friend to me. Always there when I needed him, or just about. More than anyone else in our stupid little town anyway.
Either way, all I'm trying to say is this: whatever he was about to say was not going to be very complimentary to the denizens of Saint Jacob's High School.
"What?" I asked, keeping my voice low in a vain attempt to get him to do the same.
"My nose when I had that cold last week. A never ending supply of slimy gunk that I wish would be vaporized by a robot before I ever had to look at it."
Well. You can't say I didn't warn you.
Saturday October 4th, 2014
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about someone who is: headstrong.
Had a pretty decent market, selling a good chunk of the apples I brought. Also had one of my better days this season with my cards. I think the wine tourists who are around this time of year are more into them than the visitors who pass through during the summer. Maybe.
Who knows, really.
Anyway. We're officially all sick now, as the cold hit Kat today. Tomorrow has been dubbed a family sick day, with a focus on watching movies, reading books, snuggling, and generally doing as little as possible.
Mine:
He knows the way,
He knows what's what;
He makes his point
With vicious headbutts
Write a four line poem about someone who is: headstrong.
Had a pretty decent market, selling a good chunk of the apples I brought. Also had one of my better days this season with my cards. I think the wine tourists who are around this time of year are more into them than the visitors who pass through during the summer. Maybe.
Who knows, really.
Anyway. We're officially all sick now, as the cold hit Kat today. Tomorrow has been dubbed a family sick day, with a focus on watching movies, reading books, snuggling, and generally doing as little as possible.
Mine:
He knows the way,
He knows what's what;
He makes his point
With vicious headbutts
Friday October 3rd, 2014
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the destination.
In an utterly unsurprising turn of events, I have been infected with Max's cold. This is less than ideal.
Still going to the market tomorrow, but I'm leaving Kat and Max at home. No way I'm dragging him out of bed early to go hang out in the early morning cold. I'm not crazy about having to do that myself, but I'll manage. Through the power of coffee.
Also: one of Kat's cousins will be there to help for the first part of the market. She came a couple weeks ago to watch Max for us, so she already has a basic idea of what needs to happen.
We'll mostly have apples to sell, once again, but I did find a few pints of cherry tomatoes this morning after the garden dodged another frost warning bullet. There are four crates of plums on the truck as well.
The weather is supposed to be nice, so that will make things easier. If the forecast had even the slightest chance of rain in it I'd be staying home.
Mine:
"You know what they say dear," my husband says with what is rather obviously false cheer, "life is about the journey, not the destination!"
I say nothing. I don't need to. We both know that this rat-infested bed and breakfast was not worth the time, effort, or even fuel we expended to get here.
Write four lines of prose about: the destination.
In an utterly unsurprising turn of events, I have been infected with Max's cold. This is less than ideal.
Still going to the market tomorrow, but I'm leaving Kat and Max at home. No way I'm dragging him out of bed early to go hang out in the early morning cold. I'm not crazy about having to do that myself, but I'll manage. Through the power of coffee.
Also: one of Kat's cousins will be there to help for the first part of the market. She came a couple weeks ago to watch Max for us, so she already has a basic idea of what needs to happen.
We'll mostly have apples to sell, once again, but I did find a few pints of cherry tomatoes this morning after the garden dodged another frost warning bullet. There are four crates of plums on the truck as well.
The weather is supposed to be nice, so that will make things easier. If the forecast had even the slightest chance of rain in it I'd be staying home.
Mine:
"You know what they say dear," my husband says with what is rather obviously false cheer, "life is about the journey, not the destination!"
I say nothing. I don't need to. We both know that this rat-infested bed and breakfast was not worth the time, effort, or even fuel we expended to get here.
Thursday October 2nd, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: the judge.
With Kat going on a hike with her students late this afternoon and then staying for a potluck dinner and vision meeting with the families, I was in charge of keeping Max alive from shortly after he went down for his nap until about 8 o'clock this evening.
Which would have been much more manageable if he'd slept for more than half an hour. Stupid cold clogging up his nose.
I had to resort to using frozen blueberries to bribe him into being in a good mood, but after that things went pretty well. We watched videos, kicked balls around on the deck, went visiting grandma and grandpa in the orchard, and shared an apple in the fall sunshine:
Now we're just hoping for a reasonable night's sleep for all of us.
Mine:
"This is a tough one, Mitch."
"It is, Judge?"
"Absolutely. Lots of things to consider from both of those fine young lawyers."
"I thought it was pretty clear myself, Judge. You know, one of them open and shut dealies?"
"Well, that's just one more reason you'll never be behind the bench."
"That's okay by me, Judge. I like being a bailiff just fine."
"No ambition. No ambition whatsoever."
"What's that, Judge? I couldn't quite make out your grumblings there."
"I was telling you to order another couple of pizzas, Mitch. It's going to be a long afternoon of deliberating."
Write about: the judge.
With Kat going on a hike with her students late this afternoon and then staying for a potluck dinner and vision meeting with the families, I was in charge of keeping Max alive from shortly after he went down for his nap until about 8 o'clock this evening.
Which would have been much more manageable if he'd slept for more than half an hour. Stupid cold clogging up his nose.
I had to resort to using frozen blueberries to bribe him into being in a good mood, but after that things went pretty well. We watched videos, kicked balls around on the deck, went visiting grandma and grandpa in the orchard, and shared an apple in the fall sunshine:
Now we're just hoping for a reasonable night's sleep for all of us.
Mine:
"This is a tough one, Mitch."
"It is, Judge?"
"Absolutely. Lots of things to consider from both of those fine young lawyers."
"I thought it was pretty clear myself, Judge. You know, one of them open and shut dealies?"
"Well, that's just one more reason you'll never be behind the bench."
"That's okay by me, Judge. I like being a bailiff just fine."
"No ambition. No ambition whatsoever."
"What's that, Judge? I couldn't quite make out your grumblings there."
"I was telling you to order another couple of pizzas, Mitch. It's going to be a long afternoon of deliberating."
Wednesday October 1st, 2014
The exercise:
Write something that has to do with: close... but not quite.
Max has come down with his first cold in a very long time. I guess the combination of travel, a return to StrongStart, and (most damningly) a sick StrongStart teacher was enough to do the trick.
He's fine during the day, it's just the nights. Oh, those nights.
Anyway. I should go get as much sleep as I can.
Mine:
I mentioned before that Kat's been hosting another little boy at our place a couple times a week. Apparently one of his favorite things to do is sing his ABC's, and it so happens that one of Max's toys has that song on it.
So they've been listening and singing along to that quite a bit.
I wasn't aware of this until Max started up on the way to Vancouver last week. Except he's not quite two yet, so it's not terribly surprising that he can't get all the way through without making any mistakes or forgetting letters or what not.
What did catch me by surprise, however, was a substitution he makes.
"A-B-C-D-E-F-G..."
Yup, so far so good!
"H-Grandma-P..."
Sorry, what now?
"Q-R-S..."
No, no, hold on. Back things up a bit, please. Grandma is part of your alphabet? Close, Max. So close.
But not quite.
Write something that has to do with: close... but not quite.
Max has come down with his first cold in a very long time. I guess the combination of travel, a return to StrongStart, and (most damningly) a sick StrongStart teacher was enough to do the trick.
He's fine during the day, it's just the nights. Oh, those nights.
Anyway. I should go get as much sleep as I can.
Mine:
I mentioned before that Kat's been hosting another little boy at our place a couple times a week. Apparently one of his favorite things to do is sing his ABC's, and it so happens that one of Max's toys has that song on it.
So they've been listening and singing along to that quite a bit.
I wasn't aware of this until Max started up on the way to Vancouver last week. Except he's not quite two yet, so it's not terribly surprising that he can't get all the way through without making any mistakes or forgetting letters or what not.
What did catch me by surprise, however, was a substitution he makes.
"A-B-C-D-E-F-G..."
Yup, so far so good!
"H-Grandma-P..."
Sorry, what now?
"Q-R-S..."
No, no, hold on. Back things up a bit, please. Grandma is part of your alphabet? Close, Max. So close.
But not quite.
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