prompts

1.     School/Work

When I was in high school, I had to begin to look at schools for college. I considered a few Toronto colleges, but I really wanted to go away for school. I wanted to be on my own, and even try living in residence if I could. I applied to Centennial College in Toronto, Mohawk College in Hamilton and Canadore College in North Bay, with my top choice being Canadore in North Bay. My grandparents were living in South River, so I had also considered living with them and making the 1.5 hour drive to North Bay for classes as needed.

I applied to the journalism programs and the tough part began. I had to write essay after essay to submit for assessments. For Centennial I wrote an essay on how WWF magazine writers had written with a level of bias that I found intriguing. For some reason I didn’t get accepted based on that essay, go figure.

For Mohawk I wrote and essay on my love of reading and writing. On how different writers had influenced my writing styles and how while I was in high school I was driven to take any and every English course I could get my hands on. I believe I was accepted, but I declined the offer…

For my essay to Canadore I wrote an essay on how my brother and I used music as a bridge between us. How my mother used to sit in the middle of the apartment, my brothers music blaring from one side, and mine from the other side. She had equated our music blaring at each other as a form of communication. This did get me accepted, and I was super happy…for about 2 weeks.

My grandmother passed away, and I was living with her and my grandfather. I was the only one who was single and I made the very difficult decision to decline the offer and I gave up my dream of writing. I got a job out of high school and jumped right into the work force. I worked for the same company for about 4 years, then I moved onto a less formal work field for a few years.

During this time, I continued to write, but never in the ‘journalistic’ field. I had always written fiction, all through high school, and I began to expand my writing subjects. By the time I was 30, I had written 4 novels, but I never submitted them for publication. A part of me wonders if I withheld them as a form of punishing myself for giving up on a long ago dream…

Prompt

1.     A Place     

As a kid, one of my favourite places to go was to the trailer. It was my grandparents trailer, we would stay with them for the weekend. We would sleep in the back of the trailer. In the evening, we would huddle around the campfire and roast marshmallows or cook hot dogs while the adults talked. When bed time came, we would go inside and watch the adults from the window, longing to stay up later just to hear what they had to talk about.

Everyday was filled with trips down to the beach for swimming and playing. The beach was beautiful, lots of sand and a huge pool of water, especially to a small child. Lake Bernard is/was the largest manmade lake in Ontario, and I loved ever second of the time I spent there. The water was always nice and refreshing. If you went out to a certain depth, you would encounter slick clay and you would slip around in the water as you swam or walked. Finding clay was always a messy good time.

Every evening there was a tractor ride. The owner would drive a tractor, with a wooden attachment that had benches for sitting and we would drive all over the park. The tractor ride was only about 30 mins long, but it was the something every kid looked forward to. We would all pile on, and watch the park go by. Sometimes, if we felt adventurous, we would try to stand without holding on, trying to keep our balance as the trailer jostled around. If you did it without falling down, you one a certain amount of respect from the other children

There was also a small store and it had a movie room in the back. We could take our allowance, and buy penny candy and popcorn, then sit down and watch a Disney movie in the back room. I remember how much I enjoyed watching Mary Poppins in that back room, and how it introduced me to my first viewing of Bed knobs and Broomsticks. I thought that it was the most unbelievable thing I’d ever seen.

For a few years, there was a pony that would appear on Saturday mornings. Back then, my allowance was only $1, and so were the pony rides. I knew that ride would take all my money, but I still couldn’t resist it, I had to ride the pony. Afterwards, I would be so upset that I couldn’t buy any candy or popcorn for the movie. My dad would give me an extra 50 cents so that I could see the movies. I don’t know what happened to the pony rides, I just remember that all of a sudden they were gone, and I was surprised how sad I was to not have that ride to look forward to.

                   

Prompt

          A Person      

My grandmother was an important person in my life growing up. I remember that I loved spending time with her. My grandparents lived across the street from us, so we were always over there visiting them. In the summer, when I was at the pool all day, I would go to my grandmothers house for lunch. Our favourite lunch was ham, lettuce and tomato sandwiches on brown bread. To this day, it’s still my favourite sandwich to eat. We would also have Neapolitan ice cream at the end of the day.

I also loved to spend the night there. My grandmother had twin beds in her room. I would sleep over sometimes and she had this reading pillow with arms on it. I would get all propped up in it, and she would read me a story, from a book that used to be my mothers. When she was tired of reading, she would leave me to read the book myself, while she climbed in her bed and read her own book. I think she was a big part of my love of reading. She always had a book on the go, visited the library weekly and was always willing to read to us.

I also remember playing scrabble with her. She had this blue travel scrabble board. I loved to pull it out and play with her. If I didn’t understand a word she played, she would hand be the scrabble dictionary and tell me to look it up. We did this for years, and eventually I beat her, but that took years. I still play scrabble that way. If I play a word someone doesn’t know, or they play one I don’t, look it up.

I also got my love of yarn crafts from her. She was always knitting baby sweaters, booties and hats, either for gifts or for her church to raffle off at the Christmas bazaar. I still have a baby set that she had made before she passed away. She taught me to knit, patiently, as I constantly dropped stitches and picked up new ones. I was never able to hold the needles as she did, or work them at the speed she did, but I still love the work. I only hope my work could be half as beautiful as hers.

2nd prompt of the day

So the first daily prompt seemed a little too morbid to leave it as the prompt for the day so I decided to write another.

You receive and unmarked envelope with a check for $5,000,000 inside. It's a legitimate check, what do you do with it? Do you ever find out who it is from? How does it change your life?

Of course it changes your life, there is no way that amount of money wouldn't change your life. I think your character would have a lot to do with how your life would change. I would hire a private detective, to try to find out who sent me the check. If for no other reason that to say thank you. Plus, not knowing would drive anyone a little nuts lol.

What would I do with that kind of money? All the things I never did because I couldn't afford it. I would bank most of it, pay off my family's and my debts, then I would experience life. I would travel as much as I could, and take along any family that would be able. I would love to be able to pay for niece and nephew's education, and donate some to a few of the causes that I've supported in the past.

Today's writing prompt

You find out that you will die in five years or less. How did you find this out? What would you do in those five years?

Well, I mean, first thing, how would I find out I'm going to die in five years? Realistically, if a psychic or something told me, I would hardly believe them...Let's do with a doctor says I have some medical condition that will kill me in five years, but I get to live normally until that time.

The prospect of only having five years left to live your life seems daunting. I would definitely try to start a family as quickly as possible. I would love to spend my remaining years watching a baby grow into a person, Seeing all the wonder of life through their eyes. Watching them have as many firsts as humanly possible.

I would also do all of the things you always put off. You know what I'm talking about. The trip you want to take but push out for whatever reason, the things you wanted to learn but you put off. I would do as much of that as I could in the time I had remaining.

I would also take the time to go through my belongs and organize them so the people let behind wouldn't have to do that. I would take the time to make sure that I organize and go through the photos I have and put them into albums and label each one (I should do this anyway lol). I would just take the time to make sure all my things are organized and it's easy for others to deal with when I'm gone.

Lastly, I would take the time to write my story. Write as much of my life as I can possibly remember, not only for me to remember, for my children (if I have them) and my family. Leave behind a piece of myself, in my own words.

So, that prompt was a little sad and morbid. Hopefully tomorrow is better....

Trying to get back on track

Over the last 6 months I did a lot of writing. I started yet another novel, and I have written about 475 pages, and then hit a stalemate. Coronavirus along with trying to submit writing to my first college level writing course has made me hit a bit of a block. Today I purchased a book of writing prompts. I am going to use my blog to work out these writing prompt.

Describe an important item from your childhood. Why was it important and where is it now?

When I was about 12 or 13 I wanted nothing more than to get an electric typewriter. I tried saving my money all summer long, the typewriter was about $120 with taxes all in. During the CNE, we used to help my mother and grandfather work at a parking lot to help raise funds the neighbourhood rec centre. We used to be paid about $20 to stand and flag cars to the parking lot.

On the very last day, which coincidentally was my birthday, when we finished and closed our parking lot, I did a count of all my savings and I was about $40 short. I was devastated. I had wanted that typewriter, with is different font wheels, so badly. My uncle realized how upset I was and agreed to go back out to the parking lot with me and work until we made the money. We charged $2 per car, and he kept a running total. When we hit the $40, we closed the lot, and headed home.

We walked in, and he handed me all the money, and told my mom to take me to the store the next day to get my typewriter. The next day, after dinner, we headed to the store and picked it up. As soon as I got home, I pulled it out of the box, and typed my first letter on it. I was so happy. I think I was even happier once I had fully worked and raised the money all myself.

That typewriter was my go to writing implement until my mother purchased a computer about 9 or 10 years later. I still used the typewriter even more than the computer, and I carried it with me until I was well into my 30's. I finally had to retire it, and a part of me still misses it to this day. The font wheels in their little plastic holder cases, the ribbons, the sound of the click, click, clack. I can still here it now...

Wow, how time flies...and stays the same. The ex I mentioned in my last post, he just had a baby with the same friend, that I again found out about through facebook lol.

I guess this post is about evolution...and the lack there of. It has been so many years since I was in a relationship. I spent years, working on me, trying to heal. Trying to move past all the residual abuse and hurt I suffered in my past relationships before I stepped into a new one. I finally felt 'ready' for as much as that word actually exists. No one who has ever been in any kind of abusive relationship feels ready, ever.

I finally met someone, and I genuinely want to make this relationship work. I feel something I haven't felt in years, hope. Sadly, I often think I'm a little broken. I keep trying to explain why I'm so overly apologetic and unsure of everything, and every time I do, I feel a little sadder that someone has to deal with my lingering issues...