PrompTuesday #114

Check out San
Diego Momma's site for more information!

As usual, I'm a day (or three) late and a dollar (or several) short.
But at any rate. This week was about lists, so here goes.

Odd things that live in my house. I should probably contact pest
control.

1. The un-pack rat. The "un-pack" rat is small in stature, but busy in nature. It finds its way into small spaces, removing all items so that it can create a nest inside the area. It especially enjoys areas such as under-sink cabinets in the bathroom and kitchen and the pantry. If any items in such areas are dangerous, you will surely find this unpack rat attempting to see exactly how dangerous it could be. Most likely by ingesting. The un-pack rat loves to find areas that are neatly organized and un-do any sense of organization that could be found. Laundry baskets and dresser drawers full of neatly folded clothing are a favorite target. The un-pack rat also
loves to have a soft cushy place to walk, partially because it is not very nimble and falls onto it's bottomus maximus quite often. In order to maintain a soft landing pad for accidents the un-pack rat will take all items found on it's "unpacking" adventures and spread them out around it's habitat, creating a type of carpet. Unfortunately for the un-pack rat, it doesn't pay heed to what items will actually create a soft landing surface for its eventual falls. Everything gets spread around, whether it would be a comfortable landing pad or not. The un-pack rat is not nocturnal, but it tries to be and when it fails at staying up at night, it keeps everyone up with it.
Most people assume that the un-pack rat would be homely, however, it is very cute and manages to fool almost everyone into thinking that it is a harmless creature. Watch out, for
the few teeth the un-pack rat has are sharp, and the un-pack rat can be dangerous if not treated properly. However, if you treat this un-pack rat well fed with goldfish crackers and milk, and keep it supplied with the proper type of foot protection on its feet or in its vicinity you will be rewarded with lots of snuggles and loves.


2. The leaping, lumbering, lowing leopard. It is important to note that while this animal is a leopard, it is not one of the more agile creatures you see on Animal Planet or Discovery Channel. This species is very rare, and not much is known about the creature. Like the un-pack rat, this creature tries to be nocturnal and punishes everything around it when it is unable to remain awake during the night hours. It wants to spend much of its time watching a box that emits pictures and sounds that are obnoxious to almost every other living thing. Often, this box will be found chanting "I'M THE MAP" over and over again until any functioning animate being would do almost anything to destroy it before the sounds that are emitted turn cranial matter into useless goo. Somehow this leopard species is immune from the effects of the
box. The leopard likes to think it is agile, quick and strong, however, it often falls when leaping
from one object to another (objects, it should not be on or jumping around in the first place) breaking things near it, or injuring innocent by-standers. The leopard can be very dangerous in that it is strong, but doesn't know its own strength, and often tries to pretend to be other animals with different abilities. Should you try to catch this leopard while it is pretending it is something else and mistakenly call it by its name it will ignore you until you guess which animal it is pretending to be at that moment. The leopard will always howl and make sounds indicating that it has been starved its entire life. When you try to feed the leopard, however, it
will turn its nose up at any fare offered unless it is fried fast food and fizzy drinks. When the leopard is tired, rather than laying down to sleep, it will try to fend off sleep by running around and leaping even more clumsily than normal. The leopard is incredibly intelligent and will repeat anything you say at the most inconvenient of times. The leopard will randomly emit sounds that make no sense at inappropriate times. Most of the downfalls of
this leaped are made up for in that the leaped tells very entertaining nonsense stories. And if you can keep up with it's imagination you won't ever be bored.

3. The Mommy Grizzly Bear. This bear is dangerous for many reasons. This bear has not
been able to enter into a real hibernation in years and is very cranky most of the time. If you are lucky you might find this bear on a day when it's recently caught it's favorite beverage consisting of water filtered through ground beans and poured onto milk. That is the best time to
come into contact with this bear. The worst times to come into contact would be early in the morning, late in the evening and any time in the night, as well as during the day. The bear strives for order but the cave is often a mess, because it is filled with un-pack rats and the lowing, lumbering leopards. After several hours of attempting to create order in the cave, the grizzly often gives up and lets the wild beasts who have taken over the cave have their way. This usually means ground up food and a carpet of odd things strewn around. The grizzly, although
often irritated by these little pests in the home, is fiercely protective of them as well. The grizzly will do anything to stop harm to the little creatures and knows that eventually they will go away
on their own, leaving the cave empty and clean, but altogether too quiet.

4. The LION This animal prowls around the house, often early in the morning and late at
night, after spending the day collecting food and comfort items for the cave and the tenants. Like the grizzly, it is often annoyed by the pests that roam about, but is fiercely protective of them. The Lion and the Grizzly somehow live together in one cave despite their differences. You might even say that they tolerate each other. The Lion does everything it can to keep the motley pride of animals living in its cave from clawing each other apart while attempting to provide the necessary items for sustaining life. Unlike most species of Lion, this lion is not deterred by fire, but instead likes to create it for the amusement of those around it, as well as to roast food. This
Lion also enjoys dragging the creatures out of the cave in an attempt at getting rid of a few of them. Unfortunately for the Lion, usually the excursions end up only enhancing the bonds between the cave dwelling creatures and extending the time that they swarm around him. After a few hours (or sometimes minutes) of the swarming, the Lion will let out a roar, sending all of the cave dwelling creatures (except the un-pack rat, which is undeterred) scattering away to leave the Lion to his own business.


5. The canine jackus russelus terror. This is probably the most civilized creature that lives in the cave. It patiently waits for permission to leave the cave in order to do his "business." It also patiently waits for food and water, and occasionally a frolic. This creature spends most of its time confined (of its own free will) to an interior portion of the cave, waiting. The creature thoroughly enjoys chasing small furry animals and will often sit near the Leopard and un-pack rat waiting for rejected food. This creature is impervious to the loud sounds and precarious lumbering of the other inhabitants of the cave.


I really do think I need to get some sort of pest or exterminating service involved. These animals have taken over my house and won't leave. Oh well, hopefully it will all be back in control in a few months when we head off for our island paradise.

PrompTuesday!!!

Is it really Number 112? That means it's been going on for over two years. Wow. Wow.

So, this week's theme is Before & After. Click on over to get full instructions and all that jazz.

As I sit here trying to type on my computer the only "Before & After" I can even contemplate is life before and after I had children.

Before I had children, my stomach was flat and stretch mark free. My lady lumps stayed up where they were supposed to and didn't fall out of their boulder holders.
Before I had kids my husband and I lived a never ending "date." Even going to the hardware store was romantic. Before I had children, I slept all weekend long, waking only to cuddle with my husband, go shopping, or eat. Before I had children, my evenings were mine to do with as I pleased. I did crafts, put together puzzles, played with my dogs, savored late night luxurious, slow dinners at fancy restaurants. We went to midnight showings at the movie theater. Almost every weekend. When he had duty on the ship, I'd visit him, a homemade dinner (okay, sometimes it was drive-thru) riding in the backseat.
Before I had kids I could go out of the house at any time without worries that there was snot on my shoulder, banana smashed into my leg and peanut butter on my bottom. My clothes were tidy and I at least tried to be somewhat fashionable. Before I had kids, my house, although slightly cluttered, was usually clean. Before I had kids my conversations were logical, my brain worked in an orderly fashion. I forgot nothing.
Before children, television was all about what I wanted to watch -- grownup TV, news shows, and raunchy night time dramas. Before I had kids I drove faster than the speed limit, worked more than my forty hours a week, trying to please demanding people with an occasional coffee or lunch break thrown in. When we drove long distances we'd drive and drive, only stopping for restroom, gas and food. Often at the same stop. Rock music blared from the speakers, and Yup, life was pretty good before kids.

Before I had children, I hadn't experienced the joy of being woken up at 5:00 by your child with a tackle, a snuggle and maybe even a sloppy kiss. I hadn't seen any ones face light up quite like my kids' do when I walk into the room. And I didn't know how enjoyable kissing those mushy fat cheeks was. I try to kiss those mushy fat cheeks as much as possible before they get to be grown up kid cheeks. My evenings are now filled with chores after the kids go to bed. But I get to watch my kids play in the tub together every night. Giggles fill the bathroom and water sops all over the floor. I get to snuggle a Little Monster every night, watch him learn to say his prayers and hear his thoughts about his day. I rock a baby Monkey girl to sleep at night, holding her close while I still can, because in a few days she'll be too big. And I kiss those mushy baby cheeks one more time. I get to peek in on those same children after they're asleep to see their angelic faces. Before I had kids, and before I "had" to go through this routine every night, my heart almost never felt so full of warm love that I thought it might burst.
Now that I have kids, it's a miracle if we get out of the house on time, all at the same time, all with clean clothes on and each wearing a set of matching shoes. However, that snot that's on my shoulder is because I was the only person who could comfort someones broken heart or physical pain. That banana smashed in my lap is because some little soul wanted to share her breakfast with me. And the peanut butter on my butt -- well, that's probably nothing sweet, but if it comes along with a lunch conversation about how fish sticks grow up into chicken nuggets and when fish sticks grow up into chicken nuggets he'll finally eat them, then I guess it's okay.
Now that I have kids, the conversations that happen in my house make no sense, but they make me laugh daily. Imagination fills our home with Batmen, Supermen and spider men -- all who wear rocket boots (snow boots or rain boots) daily. Capes are donned with our pajamas and some days those pajamas don't come off. It's more fun to wear pajamas all day anyway. I watch my children play together every morning, and again, my heart fills with love and amazement at how much they love each other.
Now that I have kids, the TV pipes Disney and PBS most of the time. But it doesn't matter because now that I have kids I realize how much CRAP is on TV. I drive the speed limit, especially through neighborhoods because I know how fast the kids can get away from even a diligent parent. I spend my days trying to please two very demanding children, but usually their demands are simple. Goldfish crackers, peanut butter sandwiches and milk. Play a game of pretend, and smother with love. I still get an occasional coffee break, but sometimes I have to bounce a baby in my lap or drink it on the run.
Now that we have kids road trips are a little different. There are more stops. And we have to get out of the car at each one, often to change a poop filled diaper. The rock music has turned into something more family friendly (most of the time). And the conversation is often about what rhymes, lives in castles or says MOO. But now the car fills with laughter or tears for silly reasons.
Before kids life was pretty good. Life was predictable and enjoyable. After kids, life is amazing. Everything is an adventure, filled with more love, laughter, tears and emotion than I thought possible. After kids nothing is predictable. If you can figure out how, though, you learn to laugh at the mishaps and circumstances. After kids life is wonderful. I wouldn't go back for anything.

PrompTuesday, Or Friday

No I didn't forget about it. No, I haven't been ignoring it. Okay, I have been. I just haven't been feeling creative enough to write something, well, creative.



But this week's prompt is something I can handle. PrompTuesday #108









I live in a quiet residential community that happens to back up to a main thoroughfare in my town. The thoroughfare is pretty much the only way to get from the north end to the south end of where I live. And the speed limit is something like 30 or 35 miles per hour. The stop lights are never ending, and the people here in New England really need to revisit that drivers test they should have failed when the turned 16.



There are times during the day when the thoroughfare backs up. And backs up. Like when people are heading home from work. And going to work. And rushing around at lunchtime. I get it. It sucks to be stuck in traffic when you've got somewhere to go. So, you get to thinking, surely there's a way around this major street that is set up to be a minor street. And you make a turn, and another one and you realize that you can cut through this quiet little residential area.



Sure, the speed limit is only 15, and there are a bazillion stop signs and speed bumps. The stop signs -- the ones with the white rims are optional, right? And those speed bumps? Eh.. As long as my car is big enough I can plow on over it, no harm done. Mythbusters even says the ride is better the faster I go over it. They did, right? Oh well.



Right.

That's all well and good. Except that the stop signs? They are NOT optional. The speed limit is NOT a suggestion. Why are there so many stop signs and speed bumps? Because there are a bazillion kids running around in this neighborhood. There is no public easement between the sidewalk and the street, so if I kid ditches on their bike, they're ditching into the street right in front of the car, YOUR car. Not to mention the streets are curvy, narrow, and this is NOT a public thoroughfare!

I've taken to sitting out front and yelling at the cars that whiz past, missing stop signs and catching air over the speed bumps. As a neighborhood, we've complained and complained to the community managers, called the police, and exhausted ourselves trying to get people to slow down. And, you bet that if you drive by my house, in a company vehicle, I'm calling your boss. Especially if you're a cab driver and when I ask you to slow down (because my kids are running around in the front yard near the road you consider to be a race track) and you FLIP ME OFF. YOU FLIPPED ME OFF! Because YOU were breaking the law and I called you on it. In the vehicle you use for work.

Um, this was supposed to be about etiquette. My tip:

It's extremely rude to drive really fast in a residential neighborhood ignoring speed limits and stop signs because you are using it as a detour, short-cut, or escape route from the local police. Even if you are going to go the speed limit, slamming on the brakes at the last second and slamming on the gas to get to the next stop sign a record 2 seconds faster? That's rude too. Also, driving through with your windows down and radio at full blast. Absolutely asinine. My kids don't need to hear about smackin' yo b!tch up. Really.

So, keep to the speed limit. STOP at the stop signs, slow down for the speed bumps. Save yourself some gas by accelerating decently, and if you have to listen to your music crazy loud, roll up the windows.

PrompTuesday! It's back..

What I really mean is that I am back to doing participating in PrompTuesday. The morning all day all night every moment sickness is taking its toll. If I live until December 1st, I'm sure I'll live through the rest of it too. Go visit and read the other submissions. This one should be a fun one to read!

The theme for today is:

This week, tell us who you are, what’s inside, where you’re from. Share your memory fragments, those visions in your head, those figments that make you, you. What bits and pieces formed your whole? Are you whole? Tell us.


I am from summers spent eating Popsicles on the front steps in my swimsuit.

I am from winters spent eating Oreo's meant to be snowman eyes, and the dessert for my bagged school lunch.

I am from summer mornings with the smell of gasoline, the feel of vinyl seats, and the feeling of humid air as we drive across town to summer school.

I am from daily bicycle rides to school, and then from school, afternoon snacks of carrot cake and milk.

I am from summers spent at the lake swimming, water skiing, getting sunburned, smelling of Coppertone, fighting flies, and sitting around the campfire after dark, competing for the first satellite sight and the best roasted marshmallows.

I am from a group of friends, all packed into my 1986 Chevette, cruising the main drag on our way to The Coffee House for Mocha's and deep conversation, followed by late night Taco Bell cravings and possibly missing curfew.

I am from afternoons and weekends spent working at Dairy Queen and sampling everything on the menu, while having whipped cream fights, trading food with the guys at Taco Johns and Wendy's, and making 'maple leaf' faces.

I am from a place where the summers are hot, the winters are freezing, and the spring and fall are too short, where the mountains are a day away, but worth the drive.

I am from happiness mixed with a little pain, a little sadness, and just enough learning.

I am from four states and counting.

PrompTuesday

I haven't been participating as much as I want to in PrompTuesday. You could call me a PrompTuesday drop out. I'd like to think I'm just on a break. But I have good excuses. This week's is to tell a story about a fear you've overcome.

Because Little Monster is currently running around the house at top speed to burn off energy, I am currently trying to DE-activate my Pregnancy Power in the form or Toilet Bowl power wash, and Not the Momma is on his way home, mine is short. And yes, I so totally know it's Wednesday. Wait. No it isn't. Do you see what happens to your brain when you get pregnant??

I am trying to get blogging again, but, unfortunately, I can't muster up the energy to stare at the TV, let alone make my fingers type something coherent. You should still go check out Deb's site and see what everyone else is saying.

PrompTuesday # What?

SanDiego Momma's wanting poetry again. She didn't want to hear about intimidation, but yeah. Poetry + Me = Dis-ASTER!!

So... Here's the prompt:

Today, write a poem including the following lines in any order:

“I tie a ribbon in a foolish way”

“The delicious fragility of this travesty”

“Where we still laugh and wish”

The Rules: 250 words or less, 10 minutes max, have fun, and put a link back to the site.

---

I try to put my hair up -- hoping the hot will come.
I tie a ribbon in a foolish way, but it's difficult.
The hair inside falls, my hair won't be tamed
Summer has come and gone.
I know I'll miss this weather eventually, the temperatures that linger near sixty
the delicious fragility of this travesty.
missing summer. missing heat.
missing the swimming parties and Popsicles enjoyment.
those childhood summer days, I reminisce of the places and times
where we still laugh and wish for cooler days, building snowmen.

---

We have the heat on right now. Yes. the heat. It is cold outside. I don't think it got above sixty, and now that fall is approaching the nights are getting cooler faster. So, here I sit, feeling like it's November rather than September. I'm feeling a bit let down by the central California's lack of summer heat. I was told it was arriving. And we did get one blissful week of warm temperatures. And now the return of the clouds, and the chill. At least I'll be happy in January when everyone else is freezing and it's warm enough here to play outside.

PrompTuesday #19

PrompTuesday #19 should not disappoint. Well, elsewhere at least. Go check out what everyone else is saying. I'm totally stealing this from a real life story someone once told me. An old friend of the family told this real-life story. I do ask that if you are a film producer that you would let me know that you are going to use this. I don't ask for money. I just ask for the opportunity to share with her children, so they can see their mother living on, even though she is not living here anymore.

This Week's Prompt:

Word: Egg.
Genre: Romantic Comedy.
What? Write a movie synopsis. Or a pitch? Maybe a snippet of dialogue. Perhaps a story.
And include an egg(s).

---

Fred: I'm going to boil an egg in the microwave for breakfast.
Wilma: You most certainly cannot do that. It won't work.
Fred: You don't know what you're saying. Of course you can boil an egg in the microwave!
Wilma: I'm not sure it's a good idea. Here's a pan (hands pan to Fred). Fill it with water, and do it the old fashioned way.
Fred: No. I'm going to prove you wrong. I am going to boil an egg. In the microwave.

(Fred pulls an egg out of the refrigerator, sets it on a paper plate, and puts the ensemble into the microwave.)

Fred: two minutes should be good enough.
Wilma: Let me know when you're done. This is NOT going to work.

(Fred pushes the buttons, setting the microwave for two minutes as Wilma stands by, arms crossed shaking her head. Two minutes go by in silence as the couple waits for the egg to be done.)

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Fred: The egg is done. (he pulls the plate out of the microwave, and with a towel grabs the egg, still in the shell, holds it up into the air with a victorious look on his face.) SEE! It can be done. I boiled an egg in the microwave.

*BOOM!*

Egg flies everywhere. There is egg on the ceiling, on the floor, all over Fred, including in his ear canal, hair and face. Pieces of shell are scattered like shrapnel all over the kitchen.

Wilma: What was that you said about boiling an egg in the microwave Fred?
Fred: What? I can't hear you. You need to speak into my other ear. I'm deaf in this one now.
Wilma: Yeah, and you've got egg on your face.

---

The whole "egg on your face" thing might be a little too, well, intellectual and 'smart' but some people would get it, right? I mean, if they ever got over the whole egg all over the kitchen thing.

**Update!** Yes! This really is a true story! I just didn't tell it as well as she could!

PrompTuesday #18

PrompTuesday #18 is written up here, as always. Don't you just love San Diego Momma? I do. NO rules, just writing today.

My submission:

salt

The salt is gone
The couch is covered.
You've begun to shout.

I wish I had listened,
and not been naughty.
Now I'm in time-out.

I realize now
that salt may taste good,
but it's not to be poured on the couch.


Yeah, that one's from Little Monster. Stealing my salt shaker and POURING it onto the couch -- his new favorite hobby. And poetry... That's hard! :)

PrompTuesday #17

PrompTuesday #17 is to get specific... That is, show someone the scene, rather than tell them about it. Does that make sense? No? Go here, and it will. No rules today. Just writing.

Descriptive writing is not something I'm gifted with. At least not lately. But I'm going to try it anyway.

---

As my body sinks into the water, I feel the air being sucked out of my lungs. My breathing quickens as though I were hyperventilating. Soon, though, my body in the wetsuit warms the water, and I can breathe normally again. I can feel the rubber from the water ski tight on my feet, ready to go. Drops of water sprinkle my face as my mom lobs the rope to me. My gloves loosen when the water seeps into them, and they no longer squeeze my hands like vices. I grab the rubbery handle and squeeze. The scent of exhaust and lake linger in the air as the boat pulls away. I'm shifting my weight from side to side like a gymnast on a beam, trying to find my center of balance, waiting for the rope to pull taught, for the moment to be right. It has been a while since I've done this, I'm not sure I'll remember how. The fear hits me for a second, like when you're on the first hill of a roller coaster, looking down, ready to fall. Suddenly, it is right.

HIT IT!

My eyes close tight as the water rushes up around the ski. I remember to open them just in time to see the upside-down waterfall erupt from the lake around my legs. The boat gets to speed, and I'm flying on top of the water. The ski has become a part of me as I glide over the wakes and begin my turn. The rope slackens just a bit, I slow down, time stands still for just a second. There is a slight pause, then, like a rocket, I fly across the wake. Remember to bend your knees, keep your arms at your hip, lean just enough. There is some turbulence as I go over the wakes, and then I'm flying again.

---

I never imagined there would be an August when I'd put water skiing together with a wet-suit. But it was too cold outside here today to imagine skiing without one. My nose and ears hurt from the wind whipping around them. I miss summer. No one complain to me about heat. I promise I won't brag (read: I won't brag endlessly over and over again) about the weather here come winter, okay?

PrompTuesday #16

This week's PromptTuesday, courtesy of Deb is to write a letter of Complaint. The first part of that is that I have to find something to complain about. Usually I have a list about a mile long of things to complain about, but lately, my list is waning. Or it could be some psychological thing where I can't think of anything to complain about when I finally have a valid opportunity. I suppose that's a good thing, but that makes this thing a stretch.

Rules: 250 words, 10 minutes, yada yada yada. :)


Dear Gophers,

I understand that you're just trying to 'do your job' by digging holes. It's what you do. I don't all of the holes in the area around my home, outside of the fenced in area. What I mind, is when you decide to dig under my fence and dig caverns in my (what used to be) freshly sodded backyard.
I'm also a little bit concerned about the high number of holes in the hill under my sidewalk. I'm a bit afraid that one of these days, Little Monster and Faith are going to be racing their tricycles on that sidewalk when, suddenly, there will be a mild tremor, causing the entire sidewalk to collapse in on itself.

I wouldn't worry about that as much if we lived in, well, pretty much anywhere else but directly on top of the San Andreas Fault. But, being as we do live near the San Andreas Fault, those tremors, they're bound to happen. I'm not worried about the giant earthquake that's going to send the state of California sinking into the ocean. We'll all be dead anyway -- you included. Have you ever stopped to think about that? I mean, COME ON! You could be creating a new fault line in my backyard with the number of holes you're digging.

I do appreciate that you contracted the dogs to help you dig a swimming pool for me. Next time, though, you should consider the weather. We've had about 3 days of 'swimming' weather here. While the rest of the country is being par-boiled alive, we're sitting at 55 degrees. So, just for your future reference, we do not need a swimming pool.

If you do not cease and desist this obssessive hole digging within the confines of my fence, I will be forced to take extreme action. I have tried warning you with that annoying sonic rodent blaster. You have not heeded the warning, though. My next option is to contact my lawyer about the ramifications of decapitating you with the mattox I bought to remove bush roots from our Virginia Home. (Do you see that, I said "LAWYER," In polite mid-western speak, that means I MEAN WHAT I AM SAYING AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO GET THE LAW INVOLVED.") Gophers, you are trespassing and stealing my soil and grass. For that, I can have your head. And I just might. If I can catch you.


Love,

Momma Mary

PrompTuesday #14

Is late really better than never? I hope so. I loved this Prompt. Mostly because it required me to sit, and relax for a few minutes. I have spent the past few days sick, running on fumes but pretending I had a full tank. I'm here now. I'm alive. Hopefully I'll be posting on my regular schedule soon!

Thanks, Deb for this one!

PrompTuesday #14.

Go here and listen to the song. No rules, except the 10 minute one.

I literally typed as I listened to the song. Images flickered in my head like a dream, and I typed what I saw, what I felt. It is short, but that's because for a few minutes, I allowed myself to be still.

It is peaceful.
Prairies, Wildflowers, Blue sky, slight breeze. Warm enough to wear short sleeves and a 'flowy' skirt. I'm standing in that field.
Our Lord and Saviour. He's here. I can feel him. He's my answer.
Peace.
Heaven.
Friends, love, peace, happy tears.
My heart slows down, My worries escape me. For a moment, I'm sitting here. Calm. He is here. No matter what.
Sleep.



Okay... so, yeah. No editing (except typos) either. That's what I typed. :) Hope everyone had fun with that one!

PrompTuesday # 13

Deb posted the new prompt this morning. But I was too much of a mess to do it this afternoon. Thanks to Schmitty's attempt on my life in the grocery store parking lot. Yes. I'm still bitter. It still hurts. Especially when I try to wear my sunglasses on my head all cute and Mary-like. Ask anyone. I haven't gone a day without sunglasses on my head since I was 15. Until today. And it's no fun.

So, here's the deal. 250 words or less. 10 minutes. Today, I'm throwing in the fact that I'm going to just type for 10 minutes. NO major edits. usually I type full on for five, and allow myself five minutes to go back and re-do everything. And yeah. If I end up a crying mess on the floor, It's not Deb's fault. It's Schmitty's. I blame Schmitty.

Oh yeah, this is PrompTuesday, not listen to Mary complain about her aching head. Here's the prompt:

Wait!” I screamed after her. “Your hat!”

She ignored me, which was to be expected. We hadn’t talked, not really anyway, in more than 10 years. I scooped up her black hat. The mesh veil fluttered beneath my fingers…

I couldn't help but think about the last time I saw her. She was moving out of my apartment. I didn’t like her boyfriend -- the boyfriend who became her husband. I had made it clear on several occasions that I thought he was a jerk, so she chose him over me. It still stung a little every time I remembered the fight we'd had and the words I'd said.

The fog was rolling in. Thick fog. The kind that manages to creep under your clothes and make you damp and cold, no matter how warmly you are dressed. It made the cemetery look like something out of a B-rated horror flick. Standing there, watching her walk away into the fog I got a shiver.

“Hey! Wait!” I yelled again and chased after her, hoping that we'd somehow be able to talk. I was hoping that somehow I could fix the rift I’d caused all those years ago. Hoping that now that he was gone, we could be friends again.


*****TIME!*****
Darn.

And now, my friends, tis time for me to go nurse my throbbing head.

PrompTuesday #12

Remember, PrompTuesday, courtesy of San Diego Momma? It's that time again. I've missed a couple because I've been traveling.

This week's PrompTuesday is to create a morality fable, like Aesop. She gave the example of the Ant & The Grasshopper, which inspired me to write a sequel to that tale:

Ant & The Grasshopper: The sequel.

The grasshopper learned a lesson from the ant about preparedness. So, from then on, he worked and saved until he had enough food for the winter. He worked hard, and had enough saved early in the year. After he had saved what he needed, plus a little extra, in case the winter was long, but after he was done, he resumed his singing and hopping and good times. The Ant tsked him, because he assumed that the grasshopper had returned to his foolhardy ways. The ant continued to work and toil all his life.

In the end, the grasshopper had a family, and fond memories of all of the good times they had, doing the things they liked. The Ant had to sit and listen to the grasshopper talk about all of the fun times he had, and was sad to learn that he had no fond memories of his own. He had spent his entire life working and toiling without taking time to do anything he enjoyed. He had a large cavern full of food, but he would die long before he'd be able to eat it all, and didn't have a family to share it with. The Ant wished he'd spent a little less time working and a little more time enjoying life and creating a family.

PrompTuesday #9

PrompTuesday#9

Read this, and write whatever comes to mind.

Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock
by Wallace Stevens

The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace
And beaded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, here and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches Tigers
In red weather.

Rules:

• 10 minutes
• Keep to 250 words or less.
• No Pressure
• Tell her about it.

My submission:

I often romanticize the past. I look back and think, OH what life was like back then. It was so much easier then. I realize that life was actually harder, but were people happier when life was simpler? When you got up with the sun and went to bed with it as well?

I often romanticize those days because I've read some book, some historical fiction. A story about someone famous in history. And I have to remember, that these people had it easy. I would not have been a Lady or a Queen. I would most likely have been a normal, average person. Like I am now.

I would get up before the sun, milk cows and bake bread, hand wash clothing. I would shower once a week, on Saturday night before church. I would probably live in fear of the devil and his diseases. I would be in middle life, with several children.

If I chose a husband with the same career as I have now, I would see him far less than I do now. With only letters for communication. Letters that would often arrive after he would return from sea. If he returned from sea.

I have to remind myself, that life was not easier back then, when the word "widow's walk" was invented. As much as I despise waiting for him to return, at least I'd know if he was going to. There are no evenings walking on my roof, in despair, waiting to see the sails appear over the horizon. There are months and weeks with him gone, as opposed to several years. I have it very good. I am lucky. I must remember that.

The past is better when you look back, but that's because we tend to forget the bad stuff, and remember the good. That's how we function, how we work. That's how we are able to move on, without breaking down.

PrompTuesday #8

We are supposed to look at that picture (nice, huh? I thought it was pretty) and think of three words. Mine were: Lake (how incredibly original), Parents, and Waterski.

Genre: Memoir.

Rules: As always 10 minutes or less, 250 words, have fun, and don't forget to tell San Diego Momma about it when you're done. Got it. Oh yeah, and have fun.


We spent nearly every weekend of the summers at that lake with my parents. I miss it now, and wish I had spent more time enjoying it and less time whining.

We drove down to the lake in Kansas in my Dad’s big blue van. It was a full sized van with a middle bench seat, and in the back was a bed instead of seats. We used it for camping too. We’d load the van when everyone got home from school and work, hook up the boat, and head on out.

We’d spend hours waterskiing, swimming and just being kids. Even my parents were kids then. Sometimes I just close my eyes and try to remember everything about that place: Rope swinging into the lake. limestone rocks. Giant lightning bolt that landing in the front yard, scaring everyone until we giggled. Coming inside when it started raining, being cold from being rain-soaked, but not caring. the smell of dust, must, and sunscreen. sticking to the vinyl couch.

Sundays we’d pack everything back up and drive home. On the way home, we’d stop and get burgers in a small town at the local Dairy Queen-ish restaurant. We’d get hamburgers with condiments put on in the shape of a smiley face for dinner, and ice cream for the ride home. It was always a peanut butter cup mix-in.

When I was 14 I was bored by those weekends? Now I want go back and live in one of them? My, oh my, how time changes things.

PrompTuesday #7

As always, hosted by San Diego Momma .

Technical stuff you need to know:

Rules: 10 minutes or less, 250 words or less, no pressure. Have Fun!

This week's prompt: First sentence for your story: “Dear Diary,”
Setting: In a limousine
Two words you must include while writing:
–Missile
–Hearth

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was the most amazing day. I cannot believe I'm married. Here I sit, in the limousine, on our way back to the apartment. The reception was such a blast! My husband (it feels weird to call him that) is slightly annoyed that I am writing now, but I had to get these words out while the memories are still fresh. There are a few things, I want to remember.

I want to remember the cork from the champagne toast, that took off like a missile, narrowly missing crazy Aunt Lena's glass eye. It hit her in the forehead, but she was already drunk and didn't mind. It's a good thing she was as far away as she was (about 3 tables away), or she may not have been so jovial about the whole thing.

I want to remember the fun we all had, dancing and singing. Watching my family members let go of their conservative selves for just one night. Dancing, drinking, and having a great time. We probably won’t ever see people dance like that again – mostly because we’ll never buy that much booze for that many people, but a good time was had anyway.

Mostly, I want to remember how he proposed. One year ago today, we went to San Fransisco. We were on a budget, so I was expecting a regular room, but I was in for a surprise. The room was gorgeous. It was a suite with a view of The City over the bay. When I opened the door, there was a path of rose petals leading to the fireplace. On the hearth, was a bottle of champagne and two glasses. In my glass, was the ring.

I'm dying laughing over here. That was toooootally cheesy. But, that's how I end up when I try to write fiction. It's also how you know that my posts are the truth! :) All of you NCLM newcomers, you should try out the whole PrompTuesday thing. It's been fun for me! (Oh, and I totally followed the rules this time. Well, except that I'm about 30 words over. But eh, I had to fit in 'hearth!')

PrompTuesday #6

Write in another voice — someone completely opposite from you (i.e. an oil tycoon, a four-year-old kid, a drunk dog) and argue in favor or opposition to something outlandish which should be legalized or outlawed (i.e. the oil tycoon might argue that all environmental groups be declared unconstitutional, the four-year-old may advocate mandatory dessert after dinner, etc.).


Bugs have feelings too. I mean, it isn't like the knowingly invade your house to steal food! They are simply doing what God meant them to do: hunt out food. Poisoning them is cruel and inhumane! You shouldn't even smash them. Smashing bugs is murder! Especially ants. They are the most intelligent of the insects, and by destroying them, you very well may be destroying the earth. How can you tell me that something that digs such intricate tunnels, with such a developed sense of community is not a sentient being?


Okay. So I totally ran out of time. And it's lame. But yeah, I hate ants. HATE them. I desire to kill them. All of them. So, this is about as anti-me as it gets? For now. :) For more PrompTuesday stuff, check out http://sandiegomomma.com/. Now, I'm going to bed.

PrompTuesday #4

PrompTuesday Exercise #4. I had lots of trouble with this one, but I think it turned out okay. I think I'm still set on Mother's Day around here. I feel a teeeeny bit guilty that the cards went out late, and parts of the gifts aren't going to get there until well after May is over. So, maybe that is why my mind drifted the way it is. Or, maybe it is because my mom rocks.

My entry:

I don't really know what to write about my first male love. I can't remember much of him. His name was Jeremy. He punched me in the eye at the bus stop when I was peer pressured into calling him a "sissy girl." I still feel guilty about that poor kid, and how nasty I was to him. I think that our relationship changed after that. My mother always smiles and giggles about the trouble the two of us caused. They had to sit us at separate tables because we would giggle and hold hands, unable to pay attention to the teacher.

My first love, my first real love, was my mother. You see, she has always, always been there for me. I can call her at 2:00AM from thousands of miles away because some crazy man has been beating on my door, and 911 hung up on me. I can rely on her to be there to help me give birth to my children, and even help raise them. I am pretty certain that I could ask her to do just about anything, and she'd do it. That's the kind of mom she is. I know, I'm very lucky.

She's not always in the front of my mind, but often, waiting in the shadows, hovering there, helping me. Her presence helps me make decisions, and when I have a hard time, I know I can always think "What would my mother do if she were here?" When I don't know what she'd do, I can call and ask. And she'd tell me.

According to http://www.dictionary.com/, the definition of beauty is the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind… My mother is that beauty that hangs in my head, hiding in the shadows of my mind and my heart, helping me, guiding me along, even when she doesn't know it. My mother is the Beauty in the Shadows..

PrompTuesday #3

I am supposed to be cleaning the house. But one can only put up with cleaning up after an 18 month old and a grown man who cleans up after himself as well as one for so long... (I love you honey!!!)

Remember, PrompTuesday, courtesy of San Diego Momma? It's that time again. Wow the week went fast.

So, here's this week's PrompTuesday exercise:

You’ve been taken from your home, blindfolded and put on an airplane. After
what seems like forever, you’re led off the plane, and left to stand, alone. You
take off the blindfold and see this:

What’s behind the door?

I knocked on the door. It was crazy seeing this door here, in the middle of... Wiat? Where am I? I have to be somewhere with history. My thoughts were interupted as the door slowly creaked open. An eldery lady answered the door. She was very sweet, and explained the situation. This was a surprise, planned out by my husband for Mother's Day. I was going to spend a few days, here in Scotland without worries of cleaning or ID Cards or Little Monster snot getting wiped all over me. I had to hurry and shower, though, because apparently a spa treatment was waiting for me.

As I walked inside, I noticed that the Inn was very well put together. The furniture was antique and well maintained. The smell was wonderful. They must have been baking something in the kitchen. She showed me the grounds of the Inn, including their spa area, dining area, and finally my room. It was decorated beautifully. An antique four poster bed made out of cherry, a few chairs. There was a giant picture window that overlooked the mountains. Next to the window was a chair and a table with the things you'd need to make tea. This was going to be the best weekend ever. I tried to put aside the thoughts of how much this cost, and what the house was going to look like when I returned. I focused on the fact that I was here in Scotland again.

**Ding Ding**

The places that went in 10 minutes. Whew! Ugh. That was a fast 10 minutes. Time to start cleaning again!

PrompTuesday #1

A blog I read (and ENJOY!) SanDiegoMomma has come up with PrompTuesdays. She puts out writing prompts, and we try to do them. My first isn't so hot, but I'll keep trying!

Today was a Nonsense Poem. I, however, am not very good at nonsense of the nonsensical kind. Dr. Suess has not worries of competition from me. But, here is what I got in my 10 minutes.

Two dogs went for a walk one day.
Over the hills and far away.

On their way they met a mole.
A mole wearing a hat and digging a hole.

They helped that mole dig his hole
and into the ground the went.
Dug and Dug and Dug did they
Until they were mostly spent.

Then they heard their owner call.
Ruckles Shuckles, Let's play ball.

So, the dogs went home as fast as they could.
Running fater than they probably should.

Then they tripped on a truck.
And the day was over. They were stuck.