Archive | February 2015

Zero Your Woes!

Around the clock
Beneath the sky
Cities awake
Daring to try
Each new day
Forging ahead
Going distances
However led
Into futures
Juggling time
Kindness to come
Leaving behind
Meaningless weight
No one should keep
Overly heavy
Perhaps too deep
Quit holding those
Regrets or worry
Safely grab on
To hopes and carry
Uplifting thoughts
Vast cares unfold
With those loving
X’s and O’s
You’d share to
Zero your woes!

Writing prompt from Mama Kat’s: Write a 26-line poem using all the letters of the alphabet, where the first line starts with the letter “A,” the second “B,” the third “C,” etc., culminating with the final line starting with “Z.”

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All Grown Up

It was dark where we waited in single file to pay a nickel for our carton of milk.  We walked down a wide staircase to reach the basement where a lady collected the fee and handed each one of us a carton.  A small light bulb lit that room outside of the lunchroom.  After we got our cartons, we walked into the lunchroom where long columns of windows bordered one wall to brighten the place. Long rectangular tables lined up evenly to fill the space. I had to lift my leg high to get over the bench while carefully holding onto my brown paper bag where I’d just stored my carton that was sitting on top of my lunch. My other hand held onto the table for balance.  I didn’t think I could hold onto a lunch bag and a carton of milk while maneuvering my legs over the bench especially while wearing a jumper.

Mom always packed the same lunch for me in first grade.  I opened the bag, took out the ice cold milk, and opened one side of the carton so the opening reminded me of a diamond shape.  Waxy bits of the carton made my fingers sticky.  When I looked in my bag again, I found two pieces of white bread sitting inside neatly folded wax paper.  If I was lucky, the carton didn’t squish the sandwich.  I always lifted one edge to make sure crunchy peanut butter was on one side and grape jelly was on the other. After a few bites, I drank straight from the carton because we didn’t have straws available to us. (Yes, straws had been invented then, but our school didn’t have any.)  Sometimes when I drank, a chip or two of frozen milk cubes surprised me. After the sandwich was gone, I twisted the stem of a bright red apple while I recited the ABCs.  Whichever letter I was on when the stem broke off, was the first letter of the last name of the boy who liked me that day!  I bit into the crunchy apple and ate it all away except for the seeds and core.  By the time I got to my dessert of a powdered donut, my milk was gone because it seemed like peanut butter and white bread need a lot of washing down to get it all to the stomach. For the rest of the day, it felt like the powdered sugar stayed on and around my mouth.  Even if I tried to wash it away, my face still felt powdery.

I was glad when I made it to second grade because that’s when I got a lunch pail, and I got to eat bologna sandwiches with Miracle Whip. I must have matured enough to figure out that I could let Mom know I didn’t want any more powdered donuts and that I was tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I’ve only eaten a handful of those donuts since I graduated from first grade and doing so brings me back in time to my old school’s lunchroom.  Yet, I will have a crunchy peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich at least once a week even now.

How about you? What did you use to eat for lunch when you were in elementary school?  Do you still eat that now?  Did you have a lunch pail?  What picture was on your lunch pail?

It’s hard to remember what it’s like to be small sometimes, after we’re all grown up.

Blog post idea courtesy of WordPress:  Your typical childhood lunch. 

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My Book Angels

I admire people who can write books very quickly.  I believe I heard that Stephen King wrote a rough draft of The Shining in one night. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that he was scared out of his mind because he wrote that book after he visited a haunted hotel.  I guess that’s what you call motivation!

Then there’s me.  The idea of the book I’m writing came to me in January of 2011.  That’s four years ago.  I keep telling myself “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”  My book started off as a letter, but in the meantime I changed it to be something entirely different.  When I reached about 20,000 words, I thought I would never be able to make it to at least 60,000 words, which is the amount of words a book needs to be a book.  I kept writing because I knew I would think of more things as I went along plus there are angels who help me.  Yes, I’m talking about the kind of angels you think of when you think of angels.  They whisper ideas in my head, and I write them down.  Sometimes they make sure I hear a conversation or remind me of something that happened that needs to go in my book.  Still other times they point me in the direction of a book or an article that helps with my writing.  For instance, I found a great place on Facebook to read articles about writing called The Writer’s Circle.  It’s little miracles like that.  If you’re a writer, I bet these things happen to you too.

I printed off the first draft of my book last summer, made edits and realized I forgot to write about an entire year.  I made the sections into chapters which was a great comfort and helped me feel more organized.  Setting a goal to write 3,000 words a week helped me reach almost 55,000 words.  I wrote about the year I missed, worked on the ending and am reading through another draft.  I felt I would be able to make my goal because it seemed I had so much more to say than I did when my book had 20,000 words.  It’s because ideas kept coming to me.

If you’re writing a book, and you think you won’t be able to make it because it’s just to hard, keep going.  You never know what’s going to happen when you sit down in front of your laptop or a piece of paper.  There are times when I have no idea what I’m going to write, but memories or ideas trickle in when I least expect.  Taking the time to make an effort has helped me achieve my goals.

I thank my angels for the whispers they put in my ear that end up in my head and help me keep going.  My hope is that when the book is finally finished, my book angels will guide the story towards a successful publication!

Make yourself familiar with the angels, and behold them frequently in spirit; for, without being seen, they are present with you. ~St. Francis of Sales