No, I'm not. I'm on my couch at home, writing while my dear husband plays a video game. That's why I like him: I can do my own thing, he can do his own thing, and no amount of love is lost between us as we pursue our own flavors of wasting time.
You'll note that thus far none of these prompts have caused me to write a fictional story. It's gonna take a lot of doing to get something like that out of me. I used to write fiction; now I gravitate more towards my own life vignettes. My imagination has always been curbed by my practical instincts. Well, mostly. I never believed in Santa. But I was somehow sold on the Easter Bunny.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Jan 2 - Ashes
I spent a summer working at an LDS girls camp called Oakcrest. Each week a number of stakes in the Salt Lake Valley would send their 12-14 year old girls up to this camp for a week of fun and spiritual learning at the hands of 20-something girls with an overabundance of youthful exuberance for their age.
I learned a lot that summer, including
1) That I was probably unfit for my job, having only the exact amount of youthful exuberance appropriate for a 20 year old.
2) That I learned lesson #1 about a week too late into the summer.
3) That 10 teenage girls are not my ideal company for a week, let alone 12 weeks in a row.
4) How to make Ash Cakes, which involved throwing perfectly good bread dough into the ashes of the fire, waiting a few minutes for them to "cook", pulling them out again, brushing off the big chunks of charcoal, taking a bite, and lying about how good it was.
I learned a lot that summer, including
1) That I was probably unfit for my job, having only the exact amount of youthful exuberance appropriate for a 20 year old.
2) That I learned lesson #1 about a week too late into the summer.
3) That 10 teenage girls are not my ideal company for a week, let alone 12 weeks in a row.
4) How to make Ash Cakes, which involved throwing perfectly good bread dough into the ashes of the fire, waiting a few minutes for them to "cook", pulling them out again, brushing off the big chunks of charcoal, taking a bite, and lying about how good it was.
Jan 1 - Things that enter by way of silence.
I was raised in a family of TV watchers. Regardless of whether or not anyone was watching anything specific, it seems to me that the TV was always on. Even during times when the whole family was gone, the TV was left on with the excuse of warding off criminals, and later, comforting family pets. Still to this day in my own home, I find the voices from the TV a comforting presence in an otherwise empty apartment.
These days, the voices are usually muppet voices. Jim Henson's genius seems to be the only thing that will cause my tornado of a 1 year old to pause long enough in her destructive path for me to perhaps re-fold and item of laundry or re-hide my eyeliner that is now all over my daughter's face.
Thank heaven for the muppets. Thank you, Jim, up there in heaven, for the muppets.
If there is no option of TV or music to fill a silence, I will sing to fill the silence. My go-to songs to sing are as follows:
Superstar by The Carpenters
Someone Like You from the musical Jekyll and Hyde (a song I know only half of and a musical I've never seen, but it somehow makes the list)
Stay by Lisa Loeb
Of course if Chelsea is in the room I'll replace any appropriate two-syllable word with her name, which makes her smile at her loon of a mother.
"Don't you remember I told you I loved you Chelsea... ba nuh na nuh nuh nuh na nuh"
These days, the voices are usually muppet voices. Jim Henson's genius seems to be the only thing that will cause my tornado of a 1 year old to pause long enough in her destructive path for me to perhaps re-fold and item of laundry or re-hide my eyeliner that is now all over my daughter's face.
Thank heaven for the muppets. Thank you, Jim, up there in heaven, for the muppets.
If there is no option of TV or music to fill a silence, I will sing to fill the silence. My go-to songs to sing are as follows:
Superstar by The Carpenters
Someone Like You from the musical Jekyll and Hyde (a song I know only half of and a musical I've never seen, but it somehow makes the list)
Stay by Lisa Loeb
Of course if Chelsea is in the room I'll replace any appropriate two-syllable word with her name, which makes her smile at her loon of a mother.
"Don't you remember I told you I loved you Chelsea... ba nuh na nuh nuh nuh na nuh"
Introduction and Introspection
Hello. I'm Haley.
If you're reading this, you already have some degree of knowledge as to who I am and what I'm about. But since I've known some of you longer than others, here's a brief summary for contextual purposes.
I've always loved to write. The time I've actually spent writing in my life seems to have directly coorelated with how socially involved I was. And then I got married, and my thoughts became less about what could be and more about what is, which seemed less interesting to me to write about, so I wrote less.
And then I had a baby. And for the last year my life became a lot less proactive and a lot more reactive. (It happens, and it's been a wonderfully challenging thing for me.) But now that I have a year of motherhood under my belt I've decided to take the opportunity at the beginning of this year to become more proactive again.
A friend of mine is sending me daily writing prompts for 2014, and I will write what I want to about it. It may or may not amuse you. It may or may not help stave off the damage being done to my brain by the copious amounts of Diet Dr. Pepper I consume.
It may or may not only last a month.
If you're reading this, you already have some degree of knowledge as to who I am and what I'm about. But since I've known some of you longer than others, here's a brief summary for contextual purposes.
I've always loved to write. The time I've actually spent writing in my life seems to have directly coorelated with how socially involved I was. And then I got married, and my thoughts became less about what could be and more about what is, which seemed less interesting to me to write about, so I wrote less.
And then I had a baby. And for the last year my life became a lot less proactive and a lot more reactive. (It happens, and it's been a wonderfully challenging thing for me.) But now that I have a year of motherhood under my belt I've decided to take the opportunity at the beginning of this year to become more proactive again.
A friend of mine is sending me daily writing prompts for 2014, and I will write what I want to about it. It may or may not amuse you. It may or may not help stave off the damage being done to my brain by the copious amounts of Diet Dr. Pepper I consume.
It may or may not only last a month.
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