One Step at a Time

I am away at this beautiful place on a writer’s retreat.  Incredible view, incredible mentors, incredible feedback for the children’s stuff I’ve done.

Yet today, when we got Prompt #One Million, I decided to ditch it and go for a run.  I’m not a ditcher.  At these things, I can often be a goody-two-shoes.  I like to stay with things, do things well, soak up the experience, etc.  Today, I needed to run.

 It’s a beautiful, beautiful place to run.  My ankle twinged later, but nothing serious, just definitely worth it.  Even though I may have been slightly depressed because it was tougher than it used to be, and I had to stop for some walk breaks.  I didn’t let that rain on me though … I just truly enjoyed the mountains and the cool, fresh air. 

And I said a prayer for my Troy, who yesterday afternoon, only an hour before I was scheduled to leave, threw up all over the library at school.  Eeeeek.  (I don’t like to throw up in front of ANYONE, so this was particularly disturbing to me.  Him:  “The janitor came running, Mom.  No big deal.”  )  I went to get him and delayed leaving about 3 hours.  I got in late last night, but it was no big deal.  Travelling alone is a cinch.  Also, thanks to my friend S, who seemed strangely thrilled to have Troy come and lay on her couch today.  She’s a great friend and is exactly the kind of person I’d want to hang with if I had just thrown up. 

 Here’s a writing bit I wanna share, and I’d LOVE to hear yours.  And if it’s hard to come up with, think about it on your next run.  (It totally works.)

Recall a childhood memory or image that relates to each of the five senses.

• Taste:   The last two bites of mint-chocolate chip ice cream, trying to make them small and lasting, not knowing when my dad would break down and buy another from the fat, happy man on Waikiki beach.

• Touch: The smooth oily-ness of my beagle’s fur, as I alternated dragging my fingertips and fingernails through her sleek coat.

• Smell:  Walking into my grandmother’s tiny creaky house, and the smell of sauerkraut enveloping my nose so strongly that my eyes watered.  Offensive to some, but completely comforting to me.

• See: Peering out a window that I could only see out of on my tiptoes, and seeing my dad’s work van come around the corner of our winding driveway, and feeling such …. glee …. the kind that makes you scream from your toes.  (Have I mentioned that my dad was a workaholic??)

• Hear:  The sound of my older brothers starting up their old farm truck, and patiently listening to the chugging engine and hoping it would “catch” (my technical term that I have actually written in a journal when I was five, and I still use, much to my husband’s frustration).  If it “caught”, we would get to pile in and ride in the fields carelessly, like only kids in the country can do, and go so fast over the hills that I would scream and my head would touch the truck roof ….