Should I be embarrassed to admit that at the age of 74, I still feel like a kid thrilled to be able to live as an adult?
Join Me!!!
The next time you find yourself thinking a surprising thought, write it down and send it to me here. Above is my own surprising insight that caused me to extend the invitation for you to share yours as a comment below. Links to blogs are fine.
My friend Marilyn Armstrong sent me this quote, which at the time applied perfectly to a stupid act I had just unknowingly committed. I’ve decided as penance for my action that I should write a poem to this theme and invite anyone who wishes to join me to do the same–poetry or prose.
The first person who answers this prompt will be my further prompt. I will take the first word of each of your sentences for the first word in each of my lines of the poem. Please note that your entry need not be a poem, but if it is a very long essay or story, I will just take the first words from the first twenty or thirty lines or sentences, lest my poem run on for too long. Use the quote above for your theme and send a link to your piece in the comments below.
Will whomever it was who asked me to post another quotation prompt please identify herself so I can give her credit? I’m crazy busy right now and tried to find your comment, but couldn’t!!! Thanks in advance for the suggestion!!! Judy
P.S. The picture above is not intended as a prompt. It is just an illustration of my stupidity coupled with Morrie’s absence of malice in creating this mess and severely limiting the supply of toilet paper in my house. We all know he went on to much more destructive acts–all with absence of malice. He’s tamed down some and his present hi-jinks have been limited to a construction worker’s back pack and four sponges used to smooth the stucco. And any errant plastic cup that gets in his way.
Marilyn Armstrong was the first to answer this prompt. Go HERE to read my poem based on her essay. I’m still accepting entries for another week, so please give me a link to your blog in my comments section of this post and on November 12th, when the entry period is over, I’ll list the entries of merit and links to all your blogs.
Contemplating my next order?
Eating Out
I do not remember the first time I ate out at a restaurant, but I have heard a story over and over about the first time I ordered for myself. I couldn’t have been over two years old when my folks took me out to a movie and then to Mac’s cafe for a drink and a visit with town folks afterwards. We lived in a town of seven hundred people in the middle of the South Dakota prairie. Our sole entertainment, other than church and school ballgames, was the Saturday or Sunday night picture show in the small theater on Main Street. It was the social event of the week, and visiting with friends afterwards at Mac’s Cafe across the street from the theater was as much a part of the evening as the movie.
Later, in college, one of my best friends was the granddaughter of the man who owned the theater and she revealed to me that it never had made a profit. He just kept it running to give the folks in the town where his wife had taught school as a young woman something to do.
Probably 200 of the 700 citizens of our town were members of a pentacostal church who didn’t believe in dancing, movies, or even TV, so at twenty-five cents per ticket, I’m sure if everyone in town had gone to a show one time a week, it still would not have paid the overhead, so we should have figured that out long ago, but we hadn’t thought of it––at least no one in my family ever did.
I had two older sisters, so if I was two when this story happened, one must have been about six and the other would have been thirteen. They ordered Cokes. My folks ordered coffee, and when it came to me, I responded in the only way I knew to respond in a restaurant. “Amgooboo an tabey dabey!” I ordered.
The waitress looked puzzled. “She said hamburger and potatoes and gravy,” said my father, deadpan. The waitress looked at my mother. If that was what I wanted at ten o’clock at night, my mother was all for it. The waitress left and my family struggled to keep straight faces but it just didn’t work. They all exploded in laughter, which was fine with me. I’d been entertaining them for as long as I could remember–and I think perhaps I still am to this day!
The Prompt: Tell about the first time you ever ate out in a restaurant. https://wordpress.com/read/post/feed/13075952/895361496
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 