Friday, June 27, 2014

First Five Fragments for Friday

Your weekly offering of writing/art prompts.

Out the door early this morning, to take my Outlander in for new tires. Slow wi-fi connection in the waiting area resulted in a couple of hours during which I allowed myself to sink into reading an actual paperback that I held in my hands. The book, Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which I've actually been reading for a few weeks in very small snippets, is a lovely book to wander through. An enforced time to sit and disconnect makes for a really nice Friday morning, followed by a field trip to downtown St. Paul to see what's flooded. By the way, Fort Snelling State Park is closed due to flooding if you, like me, had any thoughts of meandering over there for a closer view of the water. Can't get past the front gate.

Here are today's fragments/prompts/random thoughts. Do with them what you will.

1. The most amusing email of today came from one of my friends who confessed to keeping the poems she is just starting to allow herself to write in a Tupperware cold-cut keeper that she bought at the one and only Tupperware party I've ever thrown. She said it holds 8 1/2 X 11-inch sheets of paper perfectly. No refrigeration required.

2. A conversation with a woman in the waiting room at Brausen's Auto Service served up stories of childhood visits to grandparents on Long Island, to a love for the ocean, and a dislike of how noisy our world has become. What childhood stories would you tell to a complete stranger?

3. Another conversation with a man at the lookout at Indian Mounds Park in St. Paul revealed memories of houses that used to get flooded every year, houses that crowded what is now filled with railroad tracks and industrial buildings. I also heard about the streets that used to run from Dayton's Bluff into St. Paul before the freeways discombobulated everything. I had gone there to look at how the Mississippi floodwaters are moving and left with pieces of history from this man who had just come from mowing his 92-year-old mother's lawn.

4. If I answered #2 above, I might share the childhood story of learning to shoot my dad's gun when we were up north, far from anyone who might get in the way. A 9mm Luger? Ruger? I don't know the difference, but it had a clip in the handle and I was a lousy shot. The cans Dad set up for me lived.

5. What we've harvested from our own garden this week for dinner: lettuce, basil, flat-leaf parsley. The basil smells amazing. What can you use out of your own back yard?

Happy Friday. If you come to the Twin Cities anytime soon, bring waders.




11 comments:

  1. Thanks for the tip on Ft. Snelling as my husband suggested a visit there when we're at the airport dropping off our son. Yes, he flies in from Boston next week. Insert a happy mama face here.

    You learned a lot on your little outings. Like me, you apparently love to start a conversation with strangers and then just listen.

    Stay dry, although that appears unlikely given the forecast and the building clouds.

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    1. So glad to hear you get a visit with your son! But, yeah, Fort Snelling State Park may have to wait.
      This was a great day for conversation everywhere I went. Love when that happens.

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    2. He flies in tomorrow. Can't wait.

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  2. Love Barbara Kingsolver's writing. Fiction and non fiction. With a slight preference for her non fiction. Which I find more consistent.
    I am harvesting beauty in the garden at the moment. Winter has arrived and the food plants are mostly in hibernation.

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    1. Harvesting beauty is a wonderful part of gardening. Enjoy.

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  3. Ay the moment I have picked the oregano and am drying it. Sage is everywhere, fennel rife. Thyme is about to flower and nasturiums are beginning to flower -- like those in salads. My rosemary needs cutting back but the mint is nice and inexplicably there's wild strawberry growing out of the paving -- birds I suspect!

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  4. Everyone has a story. It just takes a minute to listen.

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  5. I never tell my childhood stories.Besides, I'm always too busy listening to other people. They just come up and start talking to me, in stores, in lines, at the park, in the ladies room. I must have a "Talk to me" face. Beats wearing my "Do I LOOK like I work here" face...

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    1. Heh....no one likes having a "Do I LOOK like I work here" face!

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