Kellie Elmore welcomes us back to Free Write Friday (FWF)! If you are not familiar with FWF, feel free to read Kellie’s intro. Here is the FWF prompt for this week…an image to which we are to respond What does this bring to mind…
Motionless in Flight
Swept away in an instant she became motionless in flight
Knowing the Earth she knew so well was no more
Was she afraid? Only for those left behind
Not of what lay ahead for her soul had already gone before
This is truly a ‘free write’…decided not to read over and over and over as I am tempted to do because the objective is just to write what freely comes to mind. The rhyme and rhythm may be off but that’s okay in the FREE world of writing! Share your thoughts. . .
OK! I know today is Wednesday, not Friday. BUT, according to Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday, the ‘rules’ say, “No deadline. No word limit.” With the happenings of the weekend and the week’s beginning, time has not permitted thoughts to gather around free writing. So, with a break this afternoon, I decided to check out the prompt. Oh, dear! It is a doozy. She has provided a word bank and what a strange conglomeration of words.
I looked at the words, remembered Kellie’s guidelines: Just write. Whatever comes to mind. Just write. Being the poetess, of course, the lines must rhyme. Whether the rhyme and reason go together in this one is yet to be seen by the comments hopefully it will receive. Here goes:
This week’s prompt:
Try to use all of the words. Let’s see what’s inspired…
Homeward bound
That’s what I say
As I listen to the 8-track
Along the way
Memories abound
As thoughts quickly shift
To bygone days
Of rivalry not rift. . .
. . .the coarse, stiff broom
Across the floor
Readying the room
For what’s in store
Candles were lit
As part of the show
Like a light-emitting diode
With a soft glow
Hustle and bustle
Throughout the kitchen Ranted and raved
Good ol’ fried chicken
Salacious homemade pies
An all-time tradition
Made one frothat the mouth
Hailing its elocution
No rancidodor there
As fillings did coagulate
Only succulent aromas
This affair did permeate
My favorite, the peas
With pot liquor too
Inviting the spoon
For a helping or two
A family fling
Of cravings and itch
All came about
With nary a hitch
Here we are at the end of another week and the beginning of the weekend! The story below is my contribution to Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday. As a writer of poetry, Kellie’s writing prompts have afforded me the opportunity to write outside the poetic box. Thank you, Kellie! The writing prompt for this Friday . . ..
Talk about a time you took the road less traveled and the differences it made…
I was born to teach. I knew that from the time it was even possible to know life carried with it a special purpose. Even my baby dolls were my ‘students’ and when in school, I always volunteered to teach a lesson whenever the opportunity arose. Never minded getting in front of the class and welcomed the challenges when questions were asked. Sometimes my classmates would come to me to explain a math concept because they simply did not understand the teacher. Math – that was my favorite, just like my granddaddy!
Upon graduation from college, of course, I got my first ‘real’ job as a classroom teacher. Oh, dear, the position entailed teaching physics, chemistry, physical science, geometry and general math. Did I ever get my feel wet in a hurry! Here I was barely 21 years old and some of my students were approaching 18! At the end of that first year, of course, I looked for a different position, one which did not require five preparations!
I taught for four years undergoing quite a number of changes in my life that led me to make a move to another state. Requirements were different, certification was different and the pay was definitely different, much less than I needed (Notice the word need, perhaps a better word would be wanted.) Anyway, a position was found that kept me struggling just to keep up with rent/utilities on an apartment and a car payment. At least it wasn’t too far from ‘home’ and I could make a quick trip for food and staples. Nothing like Mama’s cooking and Daddy would always slip me a five dollar bill to help with gas. That five dollars went a LONG way back in the late 60s and early 70s!
Anyway, to the crossroads. . .Teaching was going great and my classes were relatively good. There were always war stories and the classes from hell but that goes with the territory. I was living alone and barely getting by with nothing, absolutely nothing, to carry over from month to month. New clothes were a thing of the past and thrift stores were looking more and more promising. Then, entered the possibility of a roommate. . .
With this roommate came the beginning of a new career that would have never, ever crossed my mind. I was a teacher. That’s all I knew, teaching. My education prepared me to teach. The ubiquitous they say that money is the root of all evil but when I found out she made in one week what I brought home in one month that looked pretty good to me. Evil thoughts went out the window; survival was at the top of the list.
So began the career with the Bayline Railroad in Dothan, AL. Diesel engines, wood racks, box cars, open hoppers, consists and waybills were the tools of the trade now, no more daily lesson plans, in-service meetings, state standards, books, compasses, rulers, and protractors. Instead of walking those hallowed halls, I would now be walking the railroad tracks, climbing on and off railroad cars that needed to be waybilled to their next destination. The sad part was that this job did not require a college education where with teaching the minimum was a four-year degree. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this was just the beginning of a new teaching era that lay a decade ahead.
I could have chosen to stay in teaching for that was the field in which I felt prepared or I could take the road less traveled and take a chance on something different. The Lord works in mysterious ways and had it not been for the decision to leave education for the railroad industry, I would not have gained the real-world experience so necessary for effective mathematics teaching in the future nor would I have met my soul mate. Had I stayed on the narrow path I started I would have probably ended up back home living with my parents, making lesson plans, grading papers and feeling secure in my teaching abilities but never fulfilling my potential or walking through windows of opportunity that I did not know awaited but He did.
Doesn’t seem like it has been a week since I participated in Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday. Time seems to get away with not enough hours from one day to the next. Of course, if a day were 48 hours, I would probably still claim not enough time. C’est la vie!
While I may not participate every week in Kellie’s writing prompt, I will surely check out each week’s scenario. This week it is a Time & Place Scenario. Here is how it goes:
It’s after midnight. You find yourself in an eerie yet, magical swamp. You hear whispering and see flashes of light… What happens?
Photo credit: echoroo
On the edge of silence, soft whispers of the night penetrate the darkness. I stand alone wondering what happened to the others. How did we get separated? Lights flash in the distance. . .but we forgot the flashlights. My knees are knocking, my heart is pounding, chills are running up and down my spine, my palms are sweaty and ringing in my ears are my father’s last words, “Nothing good ever happens after midnight!” DADDY!
Of course, being the poetess that I am, I could not stop there.
It has been awhile since catnip participated in Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday. When I read the topic for today’s writing, The Street I Grew Up On, I could not let it pass by without a walk down memory lane. As thoughts shifted back and forth in memory, several images passed through my mind. In the poem below I do hope I have captured the essence and sadness of East Fourth Street.
* * * * * * * * * *
East Fourth Street (Donalsonville, GA)
Similar street in Donaldsonville, LA (Interesting coincidence in town name)
A narrow street First began as dirt Straight as an arrow Always on alert
Watchful as children Walked to and fro Kicking up dust Without shadow
Bumpy along sides Longing for rain Rutted and worn A rough domain
Through the years Change remade What once was dirt Now was paved
Where once I walked Now a bike trod Over gravel and stone It plod and plod
A quick turn Slid across stone Cuts and bruises No broken bone
Gravel and rock Did meet its fate Covering of asphalt Brought it up-to-date
Lined with oaks Massive on scene Intense in beauty Regal of queen
Forces of nature Hurling all around With mighty fury Ripped the ground
A narrow street Barren along each side Bears only ghosts Where mighty oaks once thrived
“Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.”
~From the television show The Wonder Years