Word Prompts

In writing group, the leader gave us a new word every minute. The assignment was to immediately switch to the new word and write, then switch to the next, etc. Some of the participants were able to bring continuity to their new words. I was not, but just changed directions with each.


Bread is the staff of life. Homemade bread is really the staff of life. Anyone who ever lived the hippy lifestyle made their own bread. It was a necessity. Hallie used to call store-bought bread, "muff-muff bread." I loved that term. I thought it said it all in just one term. She had an old woodstove that she used, and her food on that stove was fabulous. We were in our 20's living on Vashon Island.

Bumblebees used to scare me to death. All bees did--especially yellow jackets, wasps, and hornets. We have them around the apartment now, and I'm still afraid of them. What's the difference between all those critters? I used to get Nick to kill them for me, but now I have to do it myself. Gives me the willies to hear them buzz around the window, and the lightbulbs.

Nourish is a word that has a nice connotation. Isn't there a song that starts with "nourish"? Maybe I'm not remembering correctly. Which is the story of my life right now. Word retrieval has gotten worse and worse lately. And the worse it gets, the more upsetting for me. Getting old isn't fun, let me tell you. Back to nourish--food, happiness, love, and health.

Earth Day is on my birthday--April 22. They started it back in the hippy years. I don't know why I keep turning back to that time period. It was a happy time in some ways--very unhappy in others. It was one of the times of political upheaval--generations at odds with each other. Somewhat like now, I guess. I used to think of myself as "earth mother."

Cut is what I used to do with patterns and sewing. I sewed for myself, and for my daughter when she was little. I even made her a Holly Hobby doll and matching pinafores for her and the doll. Later, as I quit sewing so much, I would cut out the patterns, but never get them finished. That was after she grew up though. When we lived in Idaho, I made mother-daughter dresses for us both.

Give is a word I'm running out of ideas for. Give me a break. Give me some hints. Give me liberty, or give me death, said Patrick Henry. Give me some ideas. I'll give you one, if you'll give me one. Nope, I really don't give a rip this time around.
Sorry--no giving today.
Give money
Give love
Give food
Give care
Give a thought.

Memories from Idaho - Written 5/18/10

In writer's group, we worked from paintings. This one the painting of a woman and child, walking together. So it's part truth/part fiction.


As my daughter and I walked down the sidewalk away from the house, I wished again that my husband hadn't taken our only vehicle for his trip out of town. It snowed last night, and the temperature was now dropping quickly. We were barely within walking distance to the school, where she was in kindergarten and I worked in the office. But the colder it got, the harder it would be for us to make it the whole distance. I'd wrapped her up all nice and warm, and bundled myself up as well. But the 1-1/2 miles to the school would be a difficult walk for us both.

By the time we reached the school, we were both just about frozen. I took her to her class, and her teacher helped her out of her coat, scarf, and mittens. She took her in and sat her by the warm stove to thaw.

I went on to my office and unbundled myself, while at the same time turning on the small radio on the shelf next to my desk. The announcer's voice came through: "The time is now 8:05, and the temperature has already dropped to 10 degrees. There is a winter storm warning for today and tomorrow."

"Nuts!" I fretted. "He always picks the worst times to go out of town! He's notorious for leaving us in the worst possible weather. Now, we'll have to get a ride home this afternoon. And maybe I can get some help to keep the pipes from freezing. This always happens when he's gone. How frustrating!"

Bipolar Nonsense--6/1/10

Words I drew, and tried to use them all: dainty, weather, springs of grass
So just went off on a tangent of nonsense.


What is dainty weather anyway?
Is it light and fluffy, like snowflakes?
Or raindrops sprinkling on the pond?
Interesting concept.

What would be the opposite--heavy, menacing weather?
("Menace" is the word I put back last time. Then I drew it
again today.)
Oh no, that takes us back to the flood weekend.
Let's change the subject.

Sprigs of grass--reminds me of Walt Whitman's
"Leaves of Grass."
Which reminds me of the book I just finished,
"Eden's Outcasts."
About Alcott and Alcott--Louisa May and her father Bronson,
who were contemporaries of Whitman--but poles apart.

I'm skipping from thought to thought today--
So much heaviness has necessitated light, frothy,
inconsequential ponderings.
I'm through.

Pantoum

From writing group, the assignment was to write a "pantoum." It's a poetic form from long ago, in which you repeat specific lines in a specific order. So here's my first attempt. (Turned out to be fun.)

1. I'll be right here,
2. Waiting for you.
3. Don't forget to call,
4. So I won't worry.

5. Waiting for you,
6. Thinking about you,
7. So I won't worry,
8. I'll know you're OK.

9. Thinking about you,
10. Wishing you were here,
11. I'll know you're OK,
12. When I get your call.

13. Wishing you were here,
14. Don't forget to call,
15. When I get your call,
16. I'll be right here.