Being Creative One Day at a Time

Posts tagged ‘daily post’

Sweeping Motions

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/sweeping-motions/

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8921065-sweeping-motions

“What’s messier right now — your bedroom or you computer’s desktop (or your favorite device’s home screen)? Tell us how and why it got to that state.”

My computer’s desktop is by far the messier of the two.

My husband is a neat and organized individual and he expects – and enforces – these traits when it comes to the house. He makes the bed every morning first thing, and we wash, dry and put away all dishes after every meal or meal preparation. The place is spotless, almost to the point of sterility.

And then there’s my computer’s desktop. It’s a jumble of confusion and chaos. Icons litter the screen, many that I haven’t used in YEARS. Shortcuts to folders multiply like rabbits… or dust bunnies. I create elaborate folder systems to improve organization. Then I get lost and frustrated when it comes time to FIND anything.

How did this happen? Simple: I’m a procrastinator. And I have hoarder tendencies, I’m afraid. I collect things because I MAY need them someday.

The house is a reflection of my husband’s neat and organized mind.

My computer desktop reflects the utter confusion and chaos of the absentminded me.

Twenty-Five Seven

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8859121-twenty-five-seven

“Good news — another hour has just been added to every 24-hour day (don’t ask us how. We have powers). How do you use those extra sixty minutes?”

Oh, I wish that were so! There never seems to be enough time to do the things you HAVE to do or the things you WANT to do. A lot of times I find myself doing what has to be done – work, making food, doing dishes, grocery shopping… the list seems endless.

By the time I’ve done everything I am supposed to do, I rarely have enough time to do the things I want to do. Checking email, catching up on social media, maybe making a post or two here and there. And before you know it, it’s time for bed.

If I had an extra hour every day I’d devote it to writing. You know, real writing, not internet posts.

Well, if wishes were fishes, we’d all cast our nets… or something along those lines.

Reader’s Block

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8821296-reader039s-block

“What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without reading a book (since learning how to read, of course)? Which book was it that helped break the dry spell?”

Let me be completely honest here. I don’t remember a single time in my life when I wasn’t reading books. It may have been Little Golden Book’s “The Poky Little Puppy” or later, something more advanced, but it’s true. I’m a reader. It’s one of my favorite hobbies.

I simply can’t imagine not reading. Granted, I don’t have nearly as much free time as I did when I was younger, but I take advantage of whatever time I have – usually during my lunch break.

Readers of the world – UNITE!

Dream Teacher

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8403129-dream-teacher

You can choose any person from history to teach you any topic you want. Who’s your teacher, and what do they teach you?

Does it have to be a famous person from history? I know this probably isn’t what they meant, but if I could chose ANY person from history to teach me any topic I wanted, I’d pick my great-grandma Lillian, a.k.a the Monkey Grandma.

Why did we call her the Monkey Grandma, you ask?

Simple, she used to own a monkey named Napoleon. I don’t remember what kind of monkey he was, but he used to live in a big cage on the front enclosed porch. I don’t know where she got him or why, but it was long before there were a lot of restrictions on what kind of exotic animals you could keep. I’m told that he used to be allowed to run around the house, but that was before my time. Apparently, he got nippy in his old age.

I didn’t get to see my great-grandma very often because she lived so far away. But there was one memorable summer back in ’86 where we – my two oldest sisters and I – spent two whole weeks with her on her acreage. It felt like forever, but I was assured that it really had been only two weeks.

Time runs a little different for children, I think. I could have sworn it was longer. It certainly FELT longer, that’s for sure. But I digress…

During those eternal two weeks, I remember once watching my great-grandma sitting at her dining room table and knitting… only she wasn’t, not really. For starters, she wasn’t using knitting needles or yarn. But that was my closest guess as I stopped to watch her work.

She was tatting a doily.

Huh. I had seen so many doilies around her house, under delicate porcelain figurines, draped on the mantle, but I had no that she had made them by hand. I assumed she had bought them in the store. Like I would have, if I were into frilly, girly things. Which I wasn’t, but still.

She offered to teach me how to tat, but I wasn’t interested. It looked hard and, well, boring. So I declined and went about doing whatever it was that I had been doing at the time.

I regret that now, that I didn’t take the opportunity to learn something new and potentially interesting under my great-grandma’s guidance. It would have developed into a fine and cherished memory I’m sure. Especially since I remember the tatting event, but not what I was doing before or after that seemed so important at the time.

She’s gone now, my great-grandmother Lillian. She passed away back in ’96. Every time I walk past the craft section at Wal-Mart or visit a craft supply store and pass the knitting/crocheting aisle, I think of her and wish I would have spent a little time learning an old skill with the one and only Monkey Grandma.

Longing for Gravity

Today’s question can be found

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8401840-longing-for-gravity

There are so many things I’d miss! Too many to name because there are so many wonderful things here on this planet.

I would miss Winter.

The squeaking crunch of snow under your feet. The way your breath forms cartoon speech bubbles with every exhale. Building snowmen and coming in after to enjoy a hot cup of cocoa.

I would miss Spring.

The watercolor wash of green on the trees that tell you that, yes, Winter is finally over. Cherry blossoms and lilacs. Each breath long and lingering as you drown in the bouquet of New Life. The emergence of green grass and the return of the robins!

I would miss the Summer.

Ah, summer! My favorite time of year! Fresh air, warm golden sunshine gleaming on summer leaves. The smell of freshly cut grass. Duckies! And birdsong in the early morning.

I would miss the Autumn. Red, yellow, orange, the world is aflame in color. A swirling rainbow of leaves. Cool, crisp days and the bluest skies you’ll see all year.

I would miss too much. I would miss the familiar. Mars can wait. I’m staying home.

Dream Teacher

Today’s question can be found

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8403129-dream-teacher

You can choose any person from history to teach you any topic you want. Who’s your teacher, and what do they teach you?

Does it have to be a famous person from history? I know this probably isn’t what they meant, but if I could chose ANY person from history to teach me any topic I wanted, I’d pick my great-grandma Lillian, a.k.a the Monkey Grandma.

Why did we call her the Monkey Grandma, you ask?

Simple, she used to own a monkey named Napoleon. I don’t remember what kind of monkey he was, but he used to live in a big cage on the front enclosed porch. I don’t know where she got him or why, but it was long before there were a lot of restrictions on what kind of exotic animals you could keep. I’m told that he used to be allowed to run around the house, but that was before my time. Apparently, he got nippy in his old age.

I didn’t get to see my great-grandma very often because she lived so far away. But there was one memorable summer back in ’86 where we – my two oldest sisters and I – spent two whole weeks with her on her acreage. It felt like forever, but I was assured that it really had been only two weeks.

Time runs a little different for children, I think. I could have sworn it was longer. It certainly FELT longer, that’s for sure. But I digress…

During those eternal two weeks, I remember once watching my great-grandma sitting at her dining room table and knitting… only she wasn’t, not really. For starters, she wasn’t using knitting needles or yarn. But that was my closest guess as I stopped to watch her work.

She was tatting a doily.

Huh. I had seen so many doilies around her house, under delicate porcelain figurines, draped on the mantle, but I had no that she had made them by hand. I assumed she had bought them in the store. Like I would have, if I were into frilly, girly things. Which I wasn’t, but still.

She offered to teach me how to tat, but I wasn’t interested. It looked hard and, well, boring. So I declined and went about doing whatever it was that I had been doing at the time.

I regret that now, that I didn’t take the opportunity to learn something new and potentially interesting under my great-grandma’s guidance. It would have developed into a fine and cherished memory I’m sure. Especially since I remember the tatting event, but not what I was doing before or after that seemed so important at the time.

She’s gone now, my great-grandmother Lillian. She passed away back in ’96. Every time I walk past the craft section at WalMart or visit a craft supply store and pass the knitting/crocheting aisle, I think of her and wish I would have spent a little time learning an old skill with the one and only Monkey Grandma.

Antique Antics

Today’s question can be found

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8402373-antique-antics

What’s the oldest thing you own? (Toys, clothing, twinkies, Grecian urns: anything’s fair game.) Recount its history — from the object’s point of view.

I think the oldest thing I own is an antique Japanese hand-painted Dragon tea set that I bought at Treasure Mart on 83rd and Blondo, where Mary’s Book Exchange was when I was a kid. They aren’t there anymore, there was a fire some months back and the building – which included Dragon’s Lair, a comic shop I spent a lot of time (and money) in when I was young – is gone. It’s an empty lot now, though I suspect it won’t be for long. Who knows what will be in its spot.

I say I think because I also got a Samurai doll on a stand at the same shop but I have no idea which is older so I’m going to say the tea pot.

***

We were a present given to a young woman about to be married to a man overseas whom she had never met but only seen in a photograph. She carefully packed my companions and me with her belongings then set off to her new life in new country.

But the man she married was not as she was told. She married him anyway. What choice did she have?

Her dreams of happiness were shattered just like my lid and several tea cups. At the careless hands of a drunken savage. Over the years we were sold individually or in small groups until only I, two saucers and a cup remained.

When the woman, now white haired and weary, died, we were delivered to a rummage shop by her grandson. Here we waited patiently for our new owner to claim us. After many years, a young woman chose us and we remained on the upper top shelf of a built-in bookshelf.

After many more years we were moved once again. The cup did not survive. His shattered remains are shrouded, wrapped in paper towels and encased in a plastic bag.

The young woman, now a middle aged woman with gray at her temples, promised that someday she would try to fix him. It hasn’t happened yet. Maybe it never will. His body remains to remind us of what could be. What fate could befall us.

And so we wait.

At least we aren’t dusty.