Here's an idea...

I've never thought a whole lot about writing a memoir, but last weekend, I picked up a book by Natalie Goldberg that piqued my interest. It's called Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir.

Not sure what I was going to do with it, I thought that, at the very least, it could just help me get busy writing.

This morning I picked it up and read the first few pages. The first one jumped out at me beacause the title was: Read this Introduction. Interesting that she knew that I often times prefer NOT to read the introductions of books. AND! Interesting that I must not be the only one.

Her writing "hooked" me so I kept reading. I even read the next "chapter" called Note to Reader... which made me want to keep reading.

First chapter is called Go. In that chapter, the reader is given an assignment which is first to spend 10 minutes filling up ugly, ol' spiral notebook page(s) with the completion of the sentence: "I'm looking at..." Upon completing that exercise, the next assignment is to complete the sentence: "I'm thinking of..." Each time, spending 10 minutes just writing what comes to mind.

Her rules are to keep your hand moving. Be specific: Cadillac instead of car; sycamore instead of tree. If you get stuck, you should begin again with the sentence "I'm looking at..." or "I'm thinking of..."

The exercise was wonderful (even though my hand was sore)... It brought lots of possible story possibilities to mind. It intrigued me to think about all the stuff that's inside of me that I may not have touched yet with my writing.

Tomorrow's exercise is gonna be fun, too... "I remember..."

There once was a man...

(photo: Laura Kitchens)

There once was a man who was many things.
He was a husband and a father and an architect and an officer in the church and a friend.
He laughed a lot, and he worked hard.
He was sensitive and he was firm.
He spanked me and he also hugged me.
He was quiet so I didn't always know what he was thinking.
But I always knew he loved me.
He was a good, good man.
And, words do not express how much I loved him.
And, words do not express how much I miss him.
He was a good, good man.

Outside with Her Dog

Sarah wrote a poem this weekend that I thought was well worth sharing.

Outside with my Dog

We run
Around and
Around and
Around.
She scampers
Up the old pile
Of wood
And the hill
Of ivy.
She makes it.
I squeak a
Wheezy, chewy
Ball and her
Ears
Prick up, like
She knows
That
I’ll do it one more time.
And when I do,
She zooms,
Down the broken, wooden
Stairs.
I freeze,
Brace myself
For the dog who is like
A jet-
She’ll knock you
Over,
Despite the size.
She grabs the
Ball and at last
Runs away with it.
She looks like someone
Who has just
Gotten a bite
Too big to chew-
The ball is too
Big for her mouth.
When she waits
by the gate

I cautiously
Let her out,
The cat is nearby.
She pulls, and
I let her out of
My grip.
Out from my
Peripheral
Vision, I see
Her trot to
The cat.
I quickly
Close the
latch and hurry
towards her.
I see a tiny,
Delicate grey
Paw swipe at
Her golden-red
Muzzle.
She backs up,
Her rear
High,
And waits.
I drag her,
Her resistance
Loosens
At the door.
She runs
Inside, finds
A toy,
And rushes to
Me,
While I
close the door.

It's already May again...

I don't have anything particularly profound to say.

I just miss my parents.

(bottom two photos by Laura Kitchens)

This could be yours by the end of May!

Everyone who donates to the Breast Cancer 3-Day by May 21st (my birthday) in my name will be entered to win THIS 8GB Zune player (see box below to donate)!

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