February 13, 2021 - Day 8

 Prompt: Continue the story "For once the fulgent sun was not a welcome sight..."

(Yes, this actually was the prompt for the day.)

Response: For once the fulgent sun was not a welcome sight as the greater Seattle area was finally getting long-awaited snow. 

    The PNW is known for its rainstorms and almost-constant drizzle but snow is a less frequent sight, especially in the Seattle area. Normally I long for the warm, dazzling sun come late Spring and into Summer. Summer is never long enough here in the PNW; in fact its barely long enough to get a good base tan. I'm definitely a summer gal, ready for outdoor adventures to parks, hikes to waterfalls and simply sitting outside reading a good book after ending work for the day. But today, I do not long for Summer but relish the cold, crisp air and the soft white powder accumulating at my feet. Even without the sun, the day is bright and cheery as light reflects off the white blanket covering the ground and the sound of laughter trails down the street as children crash their sleds at the bottom of the hill. There is also a sense of calm and quiet that comes with the snow, though I'm not sure why. It's peaceful to watch it glistening at dusk, all the children home for hot chocolate and warm beef stew. Snow changes the pace of life and it's a pace a quite enjoy. So for this weekend, I bid the dream of sunny warmth goodbye and instead rest beside the cozy wood-burning fireplace flickering in the dark; looking forward to the adventures a snowy Sunday will bring.

February 2, 2021 - Day 7

Prompt: Elmore Leonard famously advised not to start a novel with a description of the weather. Break that rule and write about today's weather.

Response: Today's weather is why every out-of-stater thinks Seattle is the rainy city. Water droplets fell down in a constant pattern of disarray. Gray billowing clouds filled the sky, with tiny peaks of sun as the atmospheric wind shifted the puffs. Puddles forming in gravel driveways reminds owners of the neglected summer project of a french drain. Chickens huddle under a structure, darting out to grab the quick bug or worm and trying to dodge the water droplet. The dog runs outside to relieve himself, takes a quick drink from a nearby puddle on the pavement and is right back at the door wanting to come in, with muddy paws and wet-dog smell. This weather causes drowsiness in a morning Zoom meeting and is reminder to be grateful for the wood-burning stove keeping the house warm and cozy. Just before sunset, the clouds part with noticeable space between each puff and the sun streams through, a reminder that the dreary is always followed by the bright and cheerful. Not enough time for a quick family walk before the sunsets but the peak-a-boo sun was a refreshing end to the day.

January 25, 2021 - Day 6

 *Warning, today's is a long post. I had some extra time after baby went to bed and this prompt was a fun one for me.

Prompt: Stendhal Syndrome, sometimes also called hyperkulturemia or Florence Syndrome (the city where Stendhal himself first swooned), is the psychosomatic disorder of being physically overwhelmed by art and tends to overtake tourists in cities highly saturated with museums and public artwork, especially when the traveler doesn't speak the language. Put yourself in the shoes of a tourist in Paris, experiencing its thrall.

Response: I stepped out of the jetway into the airport terminal with nervous excitement. As we were landing, I tried my best to understand the flight attendant's instructions in French but only passed the language barrier because each sentence was spoken in French and then in English. My minor in Spanish is not helping me now. As I stroll through the airport to baggage claim I see posters advertising iconic monuments such as the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and Notre-Dame. I see listings for world-renowned art exhibits appearing at the Louvre. I had thoroughly examined each page of my Frommers travel book for France, ear-marking pages and highlighting names of places high on my To-Visit list.

First stop was to check-in to my quaint Air BnB apartment nestled above shops filled with fresh flowers and a cafe with the strong, sweet aroma of coffee and fresh pastries. That cafe will become a part of my morning routine without a doubt.

I decide on an early evening flipping through my guide book yet again, mapping out my plan for the following day, ever-so-eager to start checking off places on my list. I check to make sure my phone is charging properly as it will serve as my camera to document my adventures around Paris. I know which monuments are within walking distance to which museums, and which I need to find an alternate mode of transportation. I count and recount my euros, place some in my cross-body purse, hide some in a jean pocket and yet others in my sock...yes, I've read safety tips for traveling in foreign countries and I'm prepared.

My first full day starts before sunrise as I coerce myself to overcome the jet lag and desire to go back to sleep so that I can make it to the Trocadero at sunrise to see the reflection of the Eiffel Tower in the fountain waters. Not only do sunrises offer stunning photo opportunities, you tend to beat the height of the tourist rush hours the earlier start you get. After a couple hours of climbing to view points in the Iron Lady of Paris,  I then wandered the surrounding streets and take a quick lunch break in a grass field looking up at the towering structure of grace and strength.

In the afternoon I wander around a bit more, just taking in the sights, sounds and people-gazing. Such an eclectic mix of cultures and languages mesh together at one of the most popular sites in the world. I find a few cute stores to peruse, quickly realizing I found a high-end fashion block that is well-beyond my budget. I grab a few food staples from a nearby market and head back to the apartment I'm renting to plan my next day. 

The Louvre is pretty-much an all-day commitment, I've determined. Now, I'm not especially intrigued by all things art but the vast amount of pieces on display, the history and culture behind them and the fact that I really want to take time to ponder the paintings, like you see in so many movies, meant I was committing my entire day to this museum with glass triangles emerging from the walkway.

By the end I'm emotionally drained, there is something magical and overwhelming about this place. Like I said, I'm not overly artistic, I don't become emotional over art but boy, I did today. How can you not with everything from exquisitely details sculptures to rare antiquities and of course some of the most famous paintings known to mankind. Like so many others, the works of the marvelous Leonardo De Vinci occupied at least a couple hours of my time alone. Now since photos and videos are prohibited, I pulled out my trusty journal and pen and tried to carve out time to sit and experience the art around me. I write notes, I scribble words of emotions I'm experiencing and I create list of my favorite works. I don't want to forget anything.

By the time I'm back at the apartment with a bottle of red wine, a fresh baguette (side note - they don't call them "French" baguettes in France), some cheese and fresh fruit. I pop off my shoes, hop on the bed and have picnic right there, reflecting back again on all I saw today, scrolling photos until my eyes just can't absorb any more. Even with the sturdy, supportive walking shoes, my feet are showing signs of the miles I've walked so far. Little do they know this is only the first leg.

Three more days of walking, touring, sputtering the few French words and phrases I've learned and my eyes start to glaze over. My exuberance of being in a new place is starting to wane slightly. I'm running low on money and energy. I start to mixup places I've been and what I saw where. I have to scan my photos to jog my memory, and I've only been here five days. At least the owner of the cafe knows my order and greets me with a friendly 'Bonjour'. The images I tried so hard to keep fresh in my head start to become more of a blurred collage, one monument fading into another, almost like painting with watercolors and using too much water. Colors fade and run together and the shape is no longer what it started out as.

My final morning is spent rushing to re-pack my suitcase, make sure my plane ticket, passport and what little cash is left are organized and kept in safekeeping. All my souvenirs barely fit, my phone camera roll is dangerously close to 100% and if I buy one more notebook, my suitcase will be over the weight limit. As I finally sit down in my seat on the plane, I think back to my trip. I start with clear, crisp images and by the time we are lifting off the runway, my eyes are heavy, my memories swirl like when you spin too fast and everything is a blur and suddenly I'm completely overcome with the exhaustion I was able to fend off the days before. There is a fine balance between having enough time to feel like you've experienced the city without missing the big parts and spending too much time and experience observation overload. I think I found that sweet spot since I was able to enjoy the days and generally remember what I saw, felt, heard but without becoming so bogged down to not appreciate what was in front of me.

Back home to plan the next adventure to a foreign city, maybe this time Spain or Guetmala where the language barrier would be far less tiresome and daunting.

*No, I've not been to Paris yet but it is on the Dream List*

January 8, 2021 - Day 4

Edit - I typed this on January 8th but apparently forgot to hit "publish".

Prompt: Every scar tells a story. Write the story of a scar you know well - yours or someone else's.

Response: I feel like I'm talking about Reagan's birth a lot so far in these posts but I guess it's because it's the most recent, big event and most exciting thing to happen in a while. I have the typical c-section scar.  It runs about 6 inches across my lower abdomen, right about where my pant's waistband hits (that was fun the first few weeks). It is red in color and slightly raised. Peeling off the bandage a week after the surgery was a bit difficult because I still had a bit of the baby belly and couldn't fully see the area without looking in the mirror. 

This scar is both beautiful and ugly in it's own ways. Beautiful because it was how my gorgeous first babe entered this world, albeit not the way I had planned and prepped for. I was told a few weeks before that my breach baby was no longer break, hallelujah! After being contorted like an acrobat, butt down for most of the pregnancy, I was elated to hear she had moved to make for an easier, more natural birth. We were in the hospital not more than 2hrs before the rush decision was made to prepare for a c-section because infant, baby was butt first and labor was progressing too quickly to turn her. So my plan for a vaginal and possible natural (depending on paid tolerance) switch to a medicated c-section in a matter of minutes. So fast in fact, I barely had time to process what was going on until I was laying in the operating room waiting for the epidural to fully quick in. That's when the few tears slowly slipped down my face as I tried to discreetly turn away from as many eyes as possible. I was nervous, I was scared and I was disappointed to add this c-section to the ever-growing lists of pregnancy disappointments that had developed because of the pandemic.

Everything went smoothly during surgery and out came this wide-eyed beautiful blessing of a daughter. Recovery was a lot harder than I imagined, who knew just how much your abdominal muscles really worked in every day life. Getting up from the couch was difficult, holding baby was difficult at times and walking upstairs to my nice, comfy bed was just not going to happen the first week.

The scar is a reminder of her birth and the joy that being a mom brings but I would be lying if I didn't say there's a tiny part of me that wishes she had chosen to grace us with her presence a different way. But we are both healthy, happy and looking forward to hopefully experiencing a VBAC with her young sibling sometime in the future. (No we are not pregnant nor planning to be anytime soon).

January 14, 2021 - Day 5

Prompt: Think of a person and describe his or her personality through writing about a cup they often drink from (real or imagined).

Response: This coffee cup is stainless steel - strong, heat-retaining, tough to damage or break. A muted burgundy red color on the outside with the company name etched out so the letters show in the silver color from the base material. Not bright in color but a deep, warm color reminiscent of the local area school colors. It has a capacity to hold 24oz of liquid, more than your standard coffee cup. It is able to maintain the liquid's temperature for 3-4x longer than the standard coffee cup. It doesn't fit in a standard vehicle cup holder so it sits next to it's owner on the seat...but it's always in the truck on a weekday morning. At times it has week-old coffee remnants after being temporarily misplaced out in the shop on a workbench after an early, frosty morning preparing equipment for the day. It is a hand-wash only cup, usually washed by the owner's wife and left out to air dry. It rarely makes it back in the cupboard but rather is washed and drying on the counter in the evening and being filled again by 6:30am the following morning. Oh, and it only ever holds coffee. This is not a hot tea or hot cocoa mug.

January 7, 2021 - Day 3

Prompt: Think over the past week. What was the strangest or funniest thing you witnessed?

Response: Well the strangest thing I witnessed this week was the complete breakdown of US democracy. After President Trump spoke to supporters in Washington D.C., a majority of them (and possibly other instigators like ATIFA) marched to the Capitol and attacked with a majority of the House and Senate in session to confirm the electoral votes for president-elect Biden. These people were destructive, harmful and one person is dead as a result of a gun shot wound from capital police, according to the reports. Regardless of political views, political parties, race, religion, etc - the attack on the Capitol was unnecessary, disrespectful and heart-wrenching. The United States used to be a prime example of the democratic process, of true and fair elections and that was all smashed to smithereens over the last few months, culminating in the events of yesterday.

It's been a tumultuous year with the pandemic, the BLM & ANTIFA marches and riots that caused so much physical harm and destruction, autonomous zones CHOP and CHAZ, police brutality and attacks on law enforcement, fiery political races and presidential election, voter fraud accusations and now the domestic terrorism at the Capitol. 

What a year...this is the strangest last 10 months I've witnessed and I pray it is the strangest I will ever witness.

January 5, 2021 - Day 2

Well, I'm off to a rockin' start...I've missed days 2-4. But I'm not dwelling on the misses but focusing on the day at hand.

Prompt: Select a family photo, then write about the things you can't see in the picture.

Response:

You can't see the pure, boundless love we have for baby Reagan, only a few days into her life outside the womb. There is also unseen (Ok, maybe you can see a bit in my puffy eyes) exhaustion and pain from a c-section. You can't see that I spent 95% of the first week after her birth on that couch, because I couldn't walk up the steep stairs to our bedroom, let alone climb in/out of our bed. You can't see Caleb's makeshift bed on a futon across the room because he didn't want to leave me and baby downstairs while he slept upstairs. You can't see my emotional struggle comprehending and accepting her birth story - an unplanned, emergency c-section only 2 hours after being admitted to the hospital because little miss was coming fast but breach. You can't see my sadness and depression that my pride and joy, my firstborn, would not get to meet friends and family as soon as I would've liked due to COVID-19. That I couldn't take her out and have people fawn over her and comment how cute and wide-eyed she was. You can't see my sigh of relief that my parents were able to fly in from Ohio and stay for a week, I would've been absolutely heartbroken if COVID-19 kept my parents from meeting their first grandchild. You can't see that Tucker adores his human sister and loves to snuggle up with the family during story time but also thinks he inherits any baby toy that squeaks.

January 1, 2021 - Day 1

Prompt: In her essay "Fail Better," Zadie Smith says, "The very reason I write is so that I might not sleepwalk through my entire life." Why do you write? What does it do for you?

Response: Well, those are two good questions. I haven't written much of anything besides some prayer journaling, and sentimental greetings in birthday cards over the past year. Some of it was due to lack of time (or so I thought), some of it was laziness (easier to turn on a mindless tv show) and some of it was not knowing what to write about or where to write it...blank paper journal with a pencil, prompted journal with a pen, phone app, computer word document, blog. So many mediums, so many options and too many content ideas to know where to start. Well I found this prompted journal collecting dust on my bookshelf and decided to give it a go, again. Hoping the blog will help keep me a little more motivated as this is public for all to see. If you're reading and are a personal friend or family, please feel free to gently encourage/motivate me if I fall behind.

So why do I write. 

I guess similarly to Zadie Smith, I want to write so that I have something to look back on. To remember the little details that might get lost in the fogs of memories. It's also a way for me to sift through thoughts, emotions and observations. To make sense of things, to draw conclusions and simply a place to brain dump . Maybe some day I'll be in a place to use my writing to positively impact others. 

What does writing do for me.

It gives me an outlet to write everything I'm thinking, feeling and seeing and the ability to either share it or leave it for the eventual disintegration into the abyss. It's a stress-reliever, a memory-keeper and hopefully a catalyst to cause me to focus more on the things around me. In order to write about things, you must observe those things. Recognize their shape, color, smell, feel, sound, etc. You can't adequately describe an object or event without first taking notice of it. 

Like Smith said, I don't want to sleepwalk through life.

New Year, New Start...Again.

Does anybody read and follow blogs anymore or has the stories feature of Instagram taken the place of blogs? I guess we'll find out.

As a new year begins, I think many of us look back and celebrate the good, try to learn from the bad and make plans for the new. 

Especially this year I think most of us are ready to start fresh, start new and say "goodbye" to the year 2020 - one filled with a pandemic, quarantines, lost jobs, lost lives, closed restaurants and businesses, little interaction with extended family and friends and a whole lot more struggles. There are good things to come from 2020 - for me the best being my daughter Reagan who joined us May 26, 2020. While pregnancy and her birth did not go the way I had imagined and planned, she's here, she's healthy and becoming a mom is far better than all the negatives of the year combined.

A lot of us tend to use the new year as a jumping off point to make resolutions, set new intentions, make new goals and dream about the future. We don't really need a new year to do any of those things, or a new month, or a Monday. We can use every day and any day to set new goals or start a new habit. But alas, I still use the new year to do all of those things.

I used to love to write, and read. There are people who tell me I'm a good writer (I'll thank my dad and middle school English teacher for that). And yet, the last couple years I've let the responsibilities of adult-ing (work, being a wife, keeping a household running, cooking, cleaning, and now becoming a mom) de-prioritize those things that bring me joy (not that those other things don't by any means). It seems the world is getting back into finding hobbies amidst the stay-at-home orders. 

So with that, I'm going to begin to write again. I attempted to do this a couple years ago and like many new year resolutions, intentions or whatever you choose to call them, it slipped away.

I have a daily writing-prompt journal that I will be going through and my intention is to use this blog as that journal, sharing with you the prompts and my responses. It is a daily journal and I will try to post here as often as I can but I know I can't commit to daily, being realistic here. 

Beyond that, I don't have a plan for this blog but if you're interested in reading my attempts at creativity in written word, feel free to follow along. If you like to write, feel free to use those prompts to spark your own written adventure. This blog is just as much for me as anything, or anyone else.