Historically Relevant Artifact #1

On my bed, from my
Grandma’s hand, a large, warm, thing:
My purple blanket.

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Historically Relevant Artifact #1

Weekly Writing Challenge – Familial Hand Drill

WordPress has a weekly writing challenge found HERE.

I want to say that I’ll participate in it weekly, but I’m sure I’ll forget sometime. In any case, here is my submission for this week.

My dad has his dad’s
dad’s hand drill. Someday I will.
Passed down through ages.

#drillingholesforwires
#littleelbowgrease

Weekly Writing Challenge – Familial Hand Drill

Mix It Up

I am the particular mood in which time slows just enough to become almost unbearable. Moods like moths, unwanted and only bothersome because of their unpredictability and JERKIness. Not as in jerk like the noun, but more like jerk like the verb. Recently, I was told in an email that I was “dicking” like the verb.

There are patience everywhere. Yes I know that is spelled “wrong”. I wish I were impossibly, grammatically perfect so that everyone could assume that I was hilarious. Patients, a virtue.

I live in a house with often one and sometimes two additional males AND often and occasionally, one or two females. Roommates are strange like whispering cats. I think maybe that only happens in my head.

I feel tired like walking in jell-o tubs and very sleepy children hitting my “core” with wooden mallets, sort of softly but sustaining. Also, hangover, no headache.

Bright and the ideal are sometimes lost on those who steer. Also stir. Like toss and turn stir, not like mix these chocolate chips into this dough stir.

My friends are good people. I wish I could keep them. I am however, very aware that friendship, at least thus far in my time, is a relative, geographical, proximity-related endeavor. Time tested as they may be, distance has made bland even the most fiery of my relationships. Fiery? Really? Is there fear of confusion?

Mix It Up

Christmas (and various, associated activities with your relateds)

Family and food,
laughter, reflection, football.
What are we buying?

I love my family and I love being at home more than normal with them during the holidays. We’ve created our own traditions and holidays and have an entire family history of inside jokes. We eat and be merry and watch football and make fun of everyone else and write long, unnecessary emails for our own entertainment. We play games and laugh at eachother’s jokes and do things for and with and against eachother. Its my favorite time of year because I get to be with my family all together which doesn’t happen as often because my brothers are married and there are nieces and nephews now and I’m away and everybody has multiple lives to lead. So Christmas is this excuse that we need to obligate ourselves into getting together more often and enjoying eachother’s compnay.

I guess what I’m wondering is, what are all the presents for? I could do without them really. Don’t get me wrong, I like getting them and I like giving them and I think that it probably wouldn’t be the same if we didn’t exchange. You know, I even like the WAY we exchange gifts. We watch and experience each person’s gift as a family in a circle (sort of) and its slow and arduous and sometimes annoying. But what’s the real reason that I enjoy it? I think its more to do with my family and less to do with the gifts.

I’m absolutely not trying to relay some seeded message about wastefulness or anything like that. I think I just discover things about myself THROUGH writing haiku, that I didn’t even know and I feel like I’d like to share it. Its pretty neat how expression can be multi-layered without intention.

Happy days with your fams and your friends and football and sunlight and bare trees and TV.

Christmas (and various, associated activities with your relateds)