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A couple of years ago I found a challenge to submit a 25 Word story. I can’t remember what website it was on, but I submitted a few stories.
I stumbled across the stories yesterday and I thought they were good pieces – I couldn’t believe I wrote them!?
Here they are:
The dichotomy is expressive and colourful vs professional and calculating. To join them proudly is challenging. Two halves give birth to a fulfilled, whole being.
Begin with atmosphere and lightning? Impossible. Yet here we are – conscious. There is a force, yet unnamed, that really drives life. Open your mind.
A spirit is born. Hair of fire and liquid elegance. S/he battles the enemies of progress: exploding ignorance, dousing anger and always, always seeing beauty.
This past weekend I was camping with the family and friends at a fishing derby at Knouff Lake resort. The low-lights of the weekend are pretty humorous when you string them together.
Thursday night before we leave – my youngest, 1 year old River – pukes in his crib at bedtime. I had just finished washing and putting away all the laundry – 5 loads I think, so I strip his bed and start a new pile – I think he developing a milk allergy. Friday we arrive at the lake, River doesn’t sleep that well that night – he wakes up at least 10 times.
My hubby gets up to go fishing at 6am on Saturday, and wakes him up when drives away. River hears the truck turn on and drive away and bolts awake crying ‘daddy, daddy…’. River’s nap time rolls around, and I sleep too. My two other kids are off playing or fishing with dad, I am too tired to care. Three hours later the tent trailer is quite stinky, River had a lovely nap but woke to FILL his diaper and actually spray sh*t up his back. We are camping! Do I try to bath him with wipes? Where do I even start with damage control?? I notice he hasn’t actually gotten any sh*t on his bedding, he must of been sitting when he performed the deed and his clothes seem to be the only casualty. I pick him up by the armpits and put him outside – we then walk to the shower house 100 metres away, hoping noone will notice he is covered in sh*t.
Saturday culminates with a lovely steak dinner with the fishing derby crowd. However, between shower time and dinner time I change River’s diaper 4-6 times – he has some nasty stomach issues going on (use your imagination). After dinner I feel horrendous – 2 hours later, I puke in the bushes and promptly go to sleep. It is 9:30pm, my kids are all in bed, but still awake – I don’t care, I assume they fall asleep eventually.
Sunday is pack up day. My 4 year old is exhausted from the weekend and spends the entire morning throwing temper tantrums. I am pretty sure she wakes up the entire hungover campground with her wails – I wish some cranky person would stick their head out of their tent and yell at her to shut up. Needless to say, noone does and I continue to try to convince her to relax and be quiet. As we are packing the vehicles to go home she needs to go pee and claims she can do it by herself (squatting in the bushes that is – she can use a toilet no problem) – so I let her. She pees all over her clothes.
On the way home all 3 kids have lovely long naps – hopefully dinner will be uneventful as a result. We are meeting with friend for a greek buffet. All goes well, until we leave. 30 feet out of their driveway River pukes again – rivers of curdled milk and grapes spew out of his mouth. The carseat is covered, River is covered and everything smells like feta cheese. My oldest now feels nauseous and we have to go back to host’s house to ask for help – trying to clean River and the carseat enough to transport everyone home.
My weekend = puke, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, puke, pee, puke. No wonder I have to do so much laundry.
The funny thing is – I actually felt like I had a great weekend.
Before I marveled at the source of my mountain of laundry, I was quite content. I got to hangout with some lovely friends. My kids had a fantastic time playing – they were exhausted from socializing and exploring. Dinner was delicious. I won and ice cream maker and 11 litres of free ice cream (yes eleven litres!). I got lots of sleep. My dog was relaxed. My better half managed to catch a fish. The weather cooperated and the tent trailer was warm at night.
My deep down feeling was one of a good time – after considering all the bodily fluids I had to contend with – I surprised myself. It is all about attitude 🙂
A full moon on a snowing field. When you can see your shadow and the air is so quiet. The night is enchanting.
You can imagine you are anywhere. A wolf in the forest or an urban artist strolling down a festive street.
I can’t imagine living somewhere with no winter – never experiencing the cold, peaceful nights.
There is full moon tonight and the air is crisp, but no snow flies. My horse, Shadow, walks – in the moonlight you can see the steam rising off his neck. We are walking home after bringing a jailbreak calf home to the pasture.
The cattle are back on the ranch after a summer on the range. But some of the younger ones don’t like their new captivity. The old cows are happy to lie in groups, happy not to spend the days wandering through woods. They know winter is coming. I wonder if they like the snowy, full moon nights.
I used to spend cold nights in the living room. Living winter through the windows, with awesome hair and festive parties drowning out the silence outside.
My boyfriend laughed over beers. I watched tv and curled my toes. The drama of life was all gossip and career posturing.
I reveled in the success of urban life. The buildings I owned in the city centre breathed they were so vibrant.
And then I saw him. The same guy who was always there, he was missing a leg, wore dark dirty clothes and matted hair. I saw him everyday, but today was different.
I asked him the question I have always want to ask every person who doesn’t appear delighted with life: if I could give you whatever you need to get a start, to get you out of this cycle of failure, what would you do? Would you be able to stay there? Would you be able to turn your back forever on the things that drags you down?
And he started to cry and asked if I would buy him a coffee. It started to snow, but the full moon still peered out from the behind some clouds.
He said no. He had been successful before and been homeless before. It is hard to fix what wrong inside yourself.
His longest time of pleasure and success, were his years on the ranch. Shoeing horses and fixing fences. When you are in touch with the land, nature has a way of comforting you and encouraging you. The changes in weather make you feel alive. The animals always try to respond with love and respect.
But when she turns on her fury and you feel total despair – you need your own deep strength and faith. My new friend stumbled in the torture of years of bad weather, failed crops and sick livestock.
But I felt his connection.
So we left. I didn’t even go home and grab better shoes. I had my credit card, we went north and west until the houses were miles apart.
I was following an instinct, I knew the right house would appear. And it did. Well, the right horse did.
Shadow was there, grazing in the ditch. I couldn’t even see the house from the road, but it was the right driveway. An old man ran the ranch. His kids came by occasionally, but he was getting tired. This ridiculous looking pair – a glamorous, business women and a one-legged, stinky bum – we more than welcome here.
So we stayed. And it snows a lot.
But instead of worrying about the roads, I feel peace and bask in the moonlight.