Day #10 – Happiness in Food

Today’s Assignment – Tell us about your favorite childhood meal — the one that was always a treat, that meant “celebration,” or that comforted you and has deep roots in your memory. Tell the story in your own distinct voice.

When I was a kid, I loved peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches. It’s nothing special, just the classic.

I had a choosy mom so we used Jif. Smooth was the style. Crunchy kind was little unorthodox so we only got it when my dad did the grocery shopping.

The jelly didn’t matter as long as it was grape, as everyone knows any other flavor of jelly isn’t actually jelly. Anything else is classified as something somewhere above preserves but definitely below jelly.

Spread it smooth across bread of any kind. I don’t discriminate so loaves of any kind will do.

I ate this meal in some form or facet nearly every day of my life. From high-chair tray to table, from T.V. tray to paper plate or napkin, it was a simple part of my life.

I still indulge in this today as an adult. It’s usually what I end up with for breakfast, a sandwich eaten over a cup of coffee. On the weekdays, while I watch the morning news. Weekends are done while reading a book to get my day started.

I’m sure there are healthier, “Whole-Foods” alternatives, but I don’t care. I’ll eat well the rest of the time, so I leave my mornings alone.

So if I had to pick a celebratory meal from my childhood, I’m glad it’s the one I have every morning. I open each day with a celebration and optimism that usually accompanies youth, that can be a dwindling supply in adulthood.  

And I’ll get to do it again tomorrow.

Day #9 – Three Points of View’s

Today’s Assignment – A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene from each person’s point of view.

 The Man

What is that noise? Is that a car alarm? That’s so loud. I bet we’ll be able to hear it on the other side of the park. That’s awesome. I wonder what our car alarm sounds like. I’m definitely going to play with that when we get back to the car. If we ever get there this walk has lasted long enough. Why are we holding hands? We’re married. I thought we stopped doing this stuff a long time ago. Oh well, if it makes her happy. I can’t believe how hot it is today. How in the world is that old lady wearing a sweater? It’s got to be in the ’90s out here! But there she is, knitting and wearing a shawl. That’s insane. That’s it. She’s probably just crazy. Aww…that’s kind of sad. It looks like she’s knitting a sweater. That makes sense. Sweaters are in high demand in JUNE! That’s way too small to fit you lady! I bet she’s making it for one of those squirrels. That would be awesome! Aww I remember I had a pet squirrel when I was a kid. What was his name.. ..PEANUT! That’s it! That guy was so cool. He would eat right out of my hand and run up my arm and sit on my head. Then the cat ate her. I can’t believe I forgot all about him. I was devastated when he died. Oh my gosh . . . am I crying. Oh my gosh… quick-think about manly stuff; James Bond, monster truck, the shotgun formation. Now say something so she doesn’t think you’re crazy,

“Wow, this pollen right.”

Genius!

The Woman

Oh my gosh! What is that noise! Seriously…the one day we actually get to do something and some stupid car alarm is ruining the afternoon. We can’t even talk with that thing blaring. And it’s probably on some crappy car no one would want to steal anyway. Oh well, I’m not going to let it ruin our afternoon. We haven’t been able to see each other at all lately. I’m so glad we get to come out here and just walk around holding hands. I just wish it wasn’t so hot. I know he can tell my hands are sweating so much. Ugh that’s so disgusting. He’s probably just waiting on my to let go so he can dry his hands off. He looks so deep in thought. What are you thinking about? What’s he looking at? Is that lady wearing a shawl? It’s got to be a hundred degrees out here! How is she knitting a sweater? That’s so tiny. Aww it’s probably for one of her grandkids. That’s so sweet! Wait . . . is he crying? Why is he crying? Oh my gosh, he’s crying because he saw the sweater! What does that even mean? Watch, I’ll bet he’s thinking of some way to cover it up.

“Oh I know right. This pollen is awful”

Whatever. You can’t fool me. We are definitely talking about this one later.

 The Old Woman

I can’t believe it’s so cold out today. This weather is making my hands slow. Just keep the same pace. Don’t get ahead of yourself. This sweater is taking my longer than usual to finish. I hope it fits. If not, surely he’ll be able to grow into it. That’s the thing with babies, they’ll always grow into it. I can’t imagine what all this little baby will need. We all know it was unexpected, but blessings usually are and they tend to be the best. Her parents aren’t happy, but I am. I think he’ll like it. Oh I hope she names him after her grandfather. He would have loved that. I miss him. Oh what a sweet, young couple. They are staring awful hard. Where’s my purse…why didn’t I leave it in the car? Is that man crying? Oh goodness now he’s staring at those squirrels. He’s probably hopped up on something. I’m gonna write this down when I get back to the car.

 

Day #8 – Death to Adverbs

Today’s Assignment – Go to a local café, park, or public place and report on what you see. Get detailed: leave no nuance behind. Write an adverb-free post.

That’s a table with a drink under the umbrella. Not a small man.

I’m not going to any of these anytime today. What I am doing is sitting at a cubical, picturing myself somewhere else. And I know exactly where.

To my left, posted on the carpet-covered partition that surrounds me, is a small piece of folded paper. It’s pinned to the wall with a purple tack. It’s not as secure as I would hope and tends to fall down if it is accidentally tapped while I’m reaching for something else.

It’s a small doodle I made of a patch of sand rising from the waves. It’s vacant except for the single tree growing amongst the granules. There’s a little shack constructed next to the tree, as it serves as the island’s single anchor. As the ground shifts around in the open sea, the tree stands firms and holds its ground.

Close to the water stands an open umbrella. Laying beneath the shade provided is a towel. It’s spread out and warm from the sand below and the sun above. They both are there, open and inviting. Next to them is a small table with legs nestled in the sand. As the wind blows, the table leans a little, but it stays. It performs its job, holding a drink with a little umbrella of its own.

So there the scene awaits me. It is nowhere real, but only in  my imagination. And that’s where I go.

Day #6 – Character Building

Today’s Assignment – Write about the most interesting person you’ve met in 2014. Develop and shape your portrait further in a character study.

I’m a married guy approaching thirty. I have two kids and work in a cubical. I really don’t meet a lot of new people, so this was a little challenging. But after thinking for a while there is one person I have met recently.

In a recent post I talked about beginning to think about writing another book and one of the largest pieces of this new puzzle has slowly been coming together, the main character, the protagonist.

I don’t have everything worked out for him but I have the plot in my mind and I am working on his motivation and reactions. To go further into those I had to basically create him. I wanted to build him from the ground up so that his actions and words and thoughts are honest. They are what the reader would expect him to say, do, or feel.

So who is he?

He’s a man, obviously. He’s a fighter. He’s a boxer and he’s losing. He’s losing fights. He’s losing matches. He’s losing his body as it is starting to fade. He’s losing his full-time job because he’s come to the realization that this will be what he will do for the rest of his life now that boxing is over. He’s losing his trainer who is also fading. And now he’s losing someone he loves before she’s even had the chance to fall in love with him. He’s losing her to someone else.

He’s losing . . . but he hasn’t lost.

While more details have made themselves present about this character that’s all I’m willing to sprawl out here.

Day #5 – The Note

Today’s assignment – You stumble upon a random letter on the path. Write a story about this encounter. Approach this post in as few words as possible.

————————-

He was walking up the steps of his home. His feet were tired from work and his neck still warm from the sun.

Placed in his path sat an envelope. Once white, now faded. The two words written were easily seen.

“I’m sorry”

He instantly knew the letter was not addressed to him and wished it had remained with its original recipient.

A quick run through the numbers in his head told him it had been nearly six years since he left the note for her.

The words had faded but they were still true. Still he was sorry.

Day #4 – Regarding Loss

Today’s assignment – Write about loss. Make it the first of a three-part series of posts.

Thankfully, I’ve never had to experience profound loss. Well other than last year’s Iron Bowl.

So in thinking of loss I started thinking about a thing I had lost.  What jumped out at me was my novel.

Like everyone who reads, I had always wanted to write something myself. I had mulled over a topic for months and finally worked out a story and plot. I decided to write it all out.

And it was hard. It sucked. It was exhilarating but it was really hard work. I’d sit down and the words would flow but days later I’d second-guess myself. I’d second-guess the whole venture.

And then it was over. I was done. There’s nothing more I could do but put it out to the world. I could only sit back and receive judgement. Some was good. Some was bad. But it was over. For a long time that was very difficult for me to process.

For everyone that said they enjoyed it came the feeling that I had nothing better I could offer afterwards. I had peaked. For every harsh criticism, I took it as fact. I’d tell myself they were right. Whatever they said, it was true and there was nothing I could do to change it.

It’s been a few years now and I’ve kind of resolved myself to the loss. Writing that book allowed me to accomplish a goal I’d set in the back of my mind for several years. I enjoyed the process and the outcome. I can look back at it and say I did the best I could at that time and now I’m eager for the chance to do it again.

Post #2: The View

Today’s assignment: Choose a place to which you’d like to be transported if you could — and tell us the backstory. Organize the post around the setting of this location.

It took me a minute to think about where I’d go, then before I knew it I was sitting on a fence post.

The first house I remember growing up in was in a subdivision. Behind our house was a pond. It was basically a place where all the runoff from the subdivision and surrounding ditches came to collection, but to me it was something incredible.

It was covered in algae all along the rim and there was a willow tree that stretched across the water. The limbs had grown long enough to dip into  break the murky surface below. There weren’t any big fish, but the pond was full of minnows, frogs, turtles, and tadpoles. To a young boy it was the equivalent of living in the Amazon. 

As I said, this little watery oasis was located directly behind my backyard. It was separated by the wooden fence that was identical the one connecting to all the adjacent yards surrounding our house. There was no access directly to the pond so the only way to get to it was to jump the fence.

Before long though, my sister and I stopped just jumping the fence, and started sitting on it. At the corner where our yard joined that of my neighbor’s, the fences came together in a certain way that created a little perch. You could sit at that spot and see the entire pond. You could see the dragonflies skim the water and fish coming to the surface as they chased the ripples that followed.  

So if I could go back to any place and time and scenery, I’d be there.

Feeling the sun, smelling the water, watching the wildlife while sitting on a fence.

Post #1 of Writing 101

I’ve decided to joint the WordPress Writing 101 Challenge. You’ll notice the new icon located on the left side-bar. Each day they’ll you a topic/idea to write about and then they toss in a twist.

Today is the first day and they’re first topic is to just write. Nothing formal, nothing planned, just write. So . . . this is me, just writing.

I think I’ll explore why I decided to take up the challenge. I think you’re creativity, like anything else, must be exercised. And that wasn’t always the case.

I’ve talked about it before in a previous post, Creative is Manly, how when you’re a kid you do things creative, but when you’re adult you just stop. Kids can draw or color or play with Legos or do whatever else they want. When you’re a grown-up you don’t get to do stuff like that anymore. And it kind of sucks.

Not because we don’t get to play, but because your creativity is something that makes us who we are. It makes us powerful. It gives us the ability to see something in front of us and think of ways it can be changed. It helps us solve problems not through experience or instructions, but purely from our own imagination.

So that’s why I did this. This post.

And that’s why I’m doing this. This challenge.