- Meringues! A Tasty Bit of French Fluff in Austin, Texas
- 25th Anniversary of My Emigration
- What Have the Dutch Ever Given Us?
- My New and Improved Blogs: Yes, Plural!
- But That Was Then, This Is Now: Part 4: The Racial Wealth Gap
- But That Was Then, This Is Now : Part 3 A Little Property History
- But That Was Then, This Is Now : Part 2 Housing Inequality
- But That Was Then, This Is Now : Part 1 Introduction
- Trump’s Telephone Tangle, Untied
- From Facebook to Flipboard: How I Avoid the Information Bubble
What Folks Have Been Reading
Archives: The Whole Shebang
WHAT I HAVE BEEN READING
Tag Archives: DPchallenge
The daily writing prompt asks what skill I’d like to have in my back pocket.
Well, years ago I saw a truck driver back a semi into a parking space between two other semis, straight as a ruler and with about a foot to spare on both sides. Now that’s clever. Continue reading
A poem in twenty questions for NaPoWriMo.
Do you pen like William Shakespeare?
Famous tragedies like King Lear?
Or is Hemingway everything under your sun? Continue reading
Today’s poem for NaPoWriMo
Years ago, when B was nine, I wrote this silly poem, framed it and hung it in his room. It didn’t work, but I had fun writing it anyway.
Who art almighty,
Whom I know by Name.
Please keep me clean,
Please, please, please, please,
On my floor as I am on my ceiling.
Put away daily all your books.
And I’ll forgive you your clothes
As long as you put them where clothes belong.
And bury me not in toy animals,
But deliver me from clutter.
For thine is the neatness,
And the power,
And the glory,
For ever and ever.
Today’s writing challenge is Fifty. Exactly fifty words.
Here are mine.
My mother required a hedge. Hawthorne. All around the large field, for an English look. My father, heart patient, dug, scraped and worked the rocks and clay to plant the shrubs. It killed him, but my mother had her English hedge. A year later she liked another house and moved.
My oh my, what a prompt! My attempt may be seen below.
“May I have this dance, my dear, dear M?”
“Miss B, of course, how magnanimous of you, my word, my goodness, you most certainly may!”
“Minuet or Mashed Potato?”
Daily prompt: Talents I’d like to have, but don’t. Well, jeez. Where to begin.The thing about talents is that they are per definition great to have. So I’d want them all–why not? Okay, okay, I suppose the idea is to force me to choose the most important one. Well, I’m not going to. I’ll give you my top ten. Number one being the most important, but the others are close followers.
So the Daily Prompt told me to grab the nearest book and find the tenth word, then Google Image that word and write about whatever comes to mind. So I thought, whatever. But then I did it.
The daily prompt for today is to describe my own Groundhog Day.
I don’t know. It would be easier to describe a day that I didn’t mess up, put my foot in it, or otherwise wish I could do over. But I already wrote that post.
This post doesn’t live here anymore. It migrated to my other blog:
The Big No-No: An Outsider on American Fascism, where it resides under the title:
These were my first hiking boots. Not the best brand, but they made my feet look smaller than the better kind, and it took a bit of serious hiking to find out that I didn’t care as much about looks as about my feet and ankles getting me where I wanted to go. Continue reading
Well, this is an interesting writing prompt. “Go to your Stats page and check your top 3-5 posts. Why do you think they’ve been successful? Find the connection between them, and write about it.”
(Response to Daily Prompt “There’s No Place Like Home”.)
America is full of nomads, aka retirees. They live in RVs, some moving around from one beautiful spot to another, others staying in one place.
It feels a bit weird writing you in English, and I don’t think I can call you Dad instead of Pappie, but here goes. Continue reading
The prompt: Open your nearest book to page 82. Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.
The book: The Talisman by Stephen Kind and Peter Straub.
Disclaimer: I know most of my readers are compassionate people. So this is directed toward–well, you’ll know who you are.
This week’s Writing Challenge was to write about the picture below.
Oh Jeez, where the heck did you ever find that photo? Really? All these years? Continue reading
When I was a little girl, and my parents told me to do something, or not do something, there were no ifs, ands or buts about it. BUT I did sometimes do this game with my father:
“Daarom waarom daarom.”
“Waarom daarom waarom daarom?”
Etc., until I lost count.
Now I do the same with my kids:
“Why because because?”
“Because because because.”
“Why because because because?”
“Because because because because.”
“Why because because because because?”
“Because because because because, because.”
“Why because because because because because?”
“Because because because because because because.”
“Why because because because because because because?”
“Because because because because because because because.”
Etc., until someone loses count. I just thought I’d share that, if for no other reason than that it looks neat. But also because I took the daily writing challenge of a few days ago, which was to pick a random word and Google it on Images, and pick the eleventh image to write about. I picked a random word with my eyes closed. It was “because”. The eleventh image on Google Images was the one pictured above. My post about politeness came about the same way. It’s a pretty cool way to come up with ideas.
Every now and then I make myself unpopular with many of my neighbors. We have a Yahoo group, which is great, because with lightning speed we can get the word out about a lost dog or a scam artist in the neighborhood. But sometimes it can get contentious, and when it does, it seems that I’m often right in the middle of it. I have no idea why, because I’m just mild, non-confrontational, li’l ole me, right readers? Continue reading
If I could go to dinner anywhere in the world tonight, where would I go? And with whom and what would I eat? Well, since I’m in my Dutch immigrant blog mode, I think I’d beam myself up and over to Holland, to the Saturday market in Amersfoort or Utrecht or Amsterdam. Yeah, I know it’s only Thursday, but it’s Saturday there whenever I want it to be. If I can beam myself anywhere, it can also be any time.
Being from the Netherlands, I speak four languages. Or at least, I did. Dutch was my mother tongue. English, French and German were taught from seventh grade onward. I lived in Australia from age 4 to 10, so I was excused from English class. I only had to take the exams each year.