This challenge was worthwhile for me and I received enough feedback from others to get totally addicted to it. Even that little bit of self-imposed pressure of joining the challenge made it easier to write every day (Sunday excluded) and the alphabet prompt definitely made it easier for every letter except Z. I met quite a few amazing writers and hope to get to know them better as I continue reading. It’s becoming clear that for a blogger, time spent reading and commenting is almost as important as time spent writing. I know it helped my stats but it was also a bit depressing to see how many zillion more followers and likes other people had. But “followers and likes” were unknown to me a short time ago and at least I’ve got a start. It was just plain fun. And my inner circle of regular readers seemed highly entertained by my efforts. Thank you so much everyone!! Here is a repost from a few days ago.
Six Seven Things I Learned from A to Z Challenge
1. I can write regularly.
2. Writing regularly is easier with a prompt, no matter how random or silly.
3. Writing regularly gives you more opportunities to write something good.
4. Not everything will be great or even good, but something is probably better than nothing
5. Reading other’s writings stimulates your own.
6. Readers who interact are immeasurably valuable, they become friends and mentors.
7. Z is my hardest letter.
Today I am haunted by a feeling of despair, uselessness, and disappointment with myself. It started with a valid point, a realization that I had fallen short of my own expectations in an important area of my life. And then it grew. Gained momentum. I say it haunts me because I continue to walk about looking somewhat normal but I’m aware of the feeling and I talk less, retreat more, have less energy and confidence, feel sad. It’s like a shadow that I can’t shake off.
I’m writing about it as self defense. I imagine myself walking down a dark street and hearing footsteps following me. I begin to worry and want to run but I know that I’ll probably be caught. So the best defense is to turn around, face the stalker and scare the living daylights out of HIM. At least I’ll see him face to face and he’ll know he’s been identified.
I know it’s not healthy to allow (yes, allow) a negative message to take up residence and repeat itself over and over in my mind. And even though the original thought was mine I think there is a spiritual force that just loves to seize an opportunity when it sees one. It may be thought of as superstitious and backward to believe in a devil but hey, there is a glaring amount of evidence that something loves to work from within to destroy people’s lives. It is expert at destruction and extremely covert. I don’t care what your name is. I’ve turned around to look and I see you. And more importantly, you can see that I’m not alone – like you thought I was.
Today, having survived the A to Z Challenge, I decided to ignore all my tech gadgets and go outside – for the whole day. There was no checking the email every 10 minutes on the phone, no looking for likes and follows, no reading and commenting. It was a nice break. Until a few minutes ago at the dinner table when the husband said “what happened to your Z post?” Blank look from me. “It wasn’t on your site so I went to facebook and saw it, clicked, it came up for a moment and then disappeared, so what happened to it?” More blank look from me.
I know I published the post yesterday, but sure enough, there it was back in draft form on WordPress. Now how did that happen? I’m not going to cry much but when I decide I’m going to do something on time, it had better happen on time. After making myself crazy getting 25 posts done and up on the exact day they are due, the last one comes in a day late? Nooooooo…….
I’m ok, really. I had a great day. I got to play with fire. In fact I’m still burning brush at 7:30 pm and I started at 3. Living in an oak grove produces LOTS of downed branches which I have to clear off the lawn every week before I mow. The pile was getting a little out of hand so I’m writing while keeping an eye on the blaze (we don’t want to burn down the neighborhood tonight…).
I am really good at starting fires, probably a little prideful about it even. If I were on the reality show “Naked and Afraid” I would be the one to start the fire and keep it burning. Of course I would never be on the show because it’s a bit freaky and a really bad idea to be naked in places like the Amazon jungle. What people will do to be on TV…
I started this fire with papers that I got tired of trying to put through the shredder yesterday. I was cleaning old files and it was taking forever to shred things that I randomly decided should be shredded. I knew it would be quicker to burn them and it was. However it was odd to look at the papers as I lit them up and see “keep for your records” in big type across the top. My paranoid self said “wait, don’t do it!” and my other real self said “calm down, they’re from 1999, nobody has needed them yet – pretend they’re still back in the file.” Paranoid self “but it says KEEP, it doesn’t say how long.” Real self “shut up”.
I used to be diligent about throwing away old records and keeping only ones 7 years back but lately I’ve just forgotten to do it. No, actually I avoid doing it because I am paranoid that the husband someone is going to ask for something the day after I throw it away. And the other reason I keep stuff is for necessary balance in the world. I’m balancing out my friend Karyn who throws it all out. She’s a financial adviser, for pete’s sake, and she says it’s all online when you need it. Well, I know what happens when I try to find something online at the last minute – forget that. Karyn also has a garage with nothing in it except her car and a row of steel shelves with labeled, see-through plastic bins. That’s just not right. My garage also balances out Karyn’s garage.
As I said, with all this great burning going on I’ve had a really good day and the brush pile is nearly gone. Hmmm… I think I need to go turn on the hose, ‘scuse me.
1. I can write regularly.
2. Writing regularly is easier with a prompt, no matter how random or silly.
3. Writing regularly gives you more opportunities to write something good.
4. Not everything will be great or even good, but something is probably better than nothing
5. Reading other’s writings stimulates your own.
6. Readers who interact are immeasurably valuable, they become friends and mentors.
7. Z is my hardest letter.
Fellow A to Z Challenge writers, we are on the home stretch! Yay us (!) for sticking with it. My post today is really kind of lame – I have a headache, what can I say? It hurts when I try to think.
But I will say that X is an entirely useful thing, found all around us in our everyday lives. Please join me in a photo tribute to X.
It was a really pretty evening, the sun had gone down gloriously and the sky was now darkening with stars and moon getting brighter minute by minute. They were on another of his goofy dates. They had both stayed on campus that summer for their jobs and he had been coming up with casual, out-of-the-box ideas to get them together. This time he had driven them in his green Econoline van up to a scenic overlook where there were a few cement picnic shelters. So why the briefcase, she wondered? He opened it up and drew out a bottle, two glasses and a candle and proceeded to set the table and pour the wine. One more thing from the briefcase – a small black box, which he opened and turned toward the candlelight. Surprise! Yes, it was.
It had been a tough, challenging winter. Finances were tight and the eldest child needed some therapy that they just couldn’t afford. It had been a nice break when her brother and his family came to visit. The mood lightened and they had fun, all of them, but they were gone now. Everyday reality had been happening all day as she cleaned up the house, putting away the post-company clutter. It was about time to quit for the night and she went into the bedroom to turn down the bed covers, only there was an envelope on the pillow. She knew it would be a thank you note from her brother, and it was, but there was also a check inside for an exorbitant amount. Surprise!
They were excited, pulling her out to the driveway, telling her to cover her eyes. It was her birthday. Her daughter and friends had been gone for a while and now they were back and who knew what they had planned out for her? She was led out to the truck parked in the driveway and given permission to look. There it was! She had seen and remarked about it any number of times as she drove past the abandoned building where the Loyal Order of the Moose had met. It had been dangling, high on a pole by one chain at a rakish angle. And how had they ever gotten it down?! And now it was hers – a 8 foot long plastic sign with the word MOOSE in large red letters. Surprise!
She sort of viewed life as living from one surprise to the next. There had been quite a few and she was not afraid to think there would be more.
I’m a collector of cloth. When a pair of jeans is no longer wearable, I cut the legs off and save the good denim pieces. I save scraps from all the garments I make for myself and others. I find cloth at garage sales. Some of the most interesting pieces come from men’s shirts (really!). I know that if I don’t have enough cloth to make even a small garment, I can make a quilt. One winter I took some of my favorite cloth prints and made squares in the log cabin pattern. When I had enough of them, my aunt Helen helped me decide how to place them together.
This quilt became a tablecloth. Most of the cloth was left from a dress of mine (the darkest blue), some dresses I made for the girls (the blue and white prints), a skirt that I recycled (dark blue plaid), a few men’s shirts and assorted scraps, and a red print that I bought new just for the quilt. Since it’s kind of a patriotic color theme I use it in the summer over Memorial Day through July 4th. Every time I look at it I remember the dresses, the shirts and the people who wore them. So, you see, I have several reasons for loving this item.
Journey is a very romantic word for going someplace. The word has always sounded to me like it had purpose connected to it – a journey is for a reason and has value at its end. Evan and Claire were quite young and in my charge for a week when their parents were on a vacation. When taking care of children one of my fears has always been that I will run out of things to do to entertain them. And a week is a long time. I decided to whet their curiosity and told them we would be going on a journey one of those days, but I did not tell them where or why (because I hadn’t yet figured that out).
Evan and Claire lived in the small Wisconsin town where I had grown up. I had memories of the places that I had played in and explored as a child that had captivated me – the farm, the backyard woods, the beautiful spring fed Round Lake. The purpose of the journey would be to share the magic of this outdoor wonderland. The challenge of the journey would be to keep it simple enough for a 5 and 8 year old to appreciate without making it too boring or tiring. Clearly food had to be involved.
Keeping our destination a secret, I packed peanut butter, apples, nuts and water for all of us. The children were excited to get into their car seats and head out on the journey. We drove to the countryside and pulled into a field. Just walking through the tall grass in a place they’d never been, carrying their backpacks and provisions, they were full of questions. They looked at bugs and plants and small animals, birds. I made them count how many different sounds they could hear if they listened really hard. The woods were even more magical with the fall colors at their peak. There was a golden glow on the forest floor and in the canopy with leaves falling everywhere. We ran to the places I had built forts and given certain trees names of their own. We climbed and balanced and explored an old machinery graveyard. We ate our snacks nestled in the leaves. I hope the kids had as much fun as I did, visiting my favorite places. There is something very special about revisiting places with a child and seeing them again with fresh eyes, fresh excitement.
We’ve had other journeys since and the name has stuck. They ask me about their journeys and refer to them when we’re talking about times past. I’ll bet someday they will take their own children on journeys. What place could you share with a child on a journey?
I Just Have to Say... 