Lying here with you, half awake drifting dreaming back to a bedroom window in a cabin in the woods and that birdfeeder maple branch outside.
That time at night when the branch bent down down down as the mama bear raided the feeder but that branch! Bending all on its own out of nowhere.
Walk up the hallway to row after row of glass jars full of beans. Adzuki beans, appaloosa beans, pinto red and black eyed peas.
Breathe you in, breathe in the memory of that window and the hall of beans.
He spends days filling quart-sized mason jars with dry goods. He stands and stares at them. He holds their sturdiness in his hands.
Sustenance.
She was a tall glass of wine. She was bees on flowers and gardenia on the wind. She was a patchwork quilt. She was a homecooked meal.
She took it all with her.
She was endless syndication.
Every cloud has a silver lining. The platinum was worthless. We ate a fine lunch on the proceeds.
I drink my water from a mason jar and my wine from a jelly jar.
You and me, let's lasso the sun with a water rope.
Drink me up. Half full.
Sir of etceterablah challenged me this week as follows: "Every cloud has a silver lining," he thought to himself, then continued, "silver, of course, being less valuable than platinum." Talk about the general status of your glass (half full or half empty), how it came to be, and whether you view its status as a blessing or a curse.
I got my dry goods from Dave Hayes. And I have written on the topic of the glass being half full before, here and here. (Both of those posts contain adorable photos so you should definitely click.)
She was a tall glass of wine. She was bees on flowers and gardenia on the wind. She was a patchwork quilt. She was a homecooked meal.
ReplyDeletegreat character sketch!
thank you. sigh.
ReplyDeleteyou're welcome. sigh.
ReplyDeleteThe imagery is pure poetry. I can see those mason jars, life brimming with beans and all that it means for the man who holds them and the woman he drinks in. Sustenance... indeed!
ReplyDeleteA fascinating approach to the challenge. I agree 100% with Ian on the talent you have in painting your characters with such vivid colors. Also, I love drinking anything from mason jars. They seem to add flavor to everything, even if it's just our imagination.
ReplyDelete"She was a tall glass of wine. She was bees on flowers and gardenia on the wind. She was a patchwork quilt. She was a homecooked meal."
ReplyDeleteThat is beautiful, but this
"That time at night when the branch bent down down down as the mama bear raided the feeder but that branch! Bending all on its own out of nowhere."
I see this. In the moment, dark night through glass, darker shape of the branch bending... but why?? Mama bear unseen at the feeder below.
She took it all with her.
ReplyDeleteShe was endless syndication.
I was blown away by last week's prompt of course. But I'm pretty blown away by this one as well. xo
endless syndication. la la la la
ReplyDeleteYeah, my favorite is "endless syndication" too. I love your writing. It's so vivid and unexpected, and I am incredibly inspired by it.
ReplyDeleteaw, shucks. thank you, sister
ReplyDeleteI concur with Ian's first comment. A delightful series of descriptions there.
ReplyDeleteAnother dandy piece, Marian!
dandy? you make me wanna don my top hat and my tap shoes.
ReplyDeleteWonderful. I always look forward to your interpretations of the challenges so I can add a moment of whimsy to my day :)
ReplyDeletewhimsy! love that. thank you.
ReplyDeleteReading this was like having a visual comforter wrapped around me. I felt at home among your words. (Hugs)Indigo
ReplyDeleteaw, c'mon over and we can snuggle here under this blanket.
ReplyDelete