Write four lines of prose about: the injury.
It's been a rough week for my left hand. On Sunday (or maybe Monday?) I was cooking a chicken curry in coconut milk, so I had opened up a can of coconut milk and left it sitting on the counter with the lid pointed straight up.
Smart, I know.
Shortly afterward, I went to grab something behind it and cut my left thumb and left ring finger on the lid.
That hurt quite a bit. I've had band-aids on both of them since.
This afternoon at the bakery I was mopping up in the back and had fallen behind schedule a little bit, so I was rushing. And being careless again, obviously. There's a long baker's bench, under which they keep four big bins of flour. I have to roll them out in order to sweep and mop under there, but this time I managed to squish my left thumb between the bin and the bottom of the table.
That also hurt quite a bit. As I sit here now, some seven hours later, my thumb is still throbbing. And there's a nice black spot under my thumbnail where the blood dried up.
So my goal for tomorrow's shift is to escape it uninjured.
Or, at the very least, to escape without injuring my left hand any further.
"Ma, I think I'm dying!"
"It's just a tiny little cut, dear - I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Ma, I'm bleeding out here!"
"Oh, just stick a band-aid on it and get back to cleaning your room."
Write about: the cleaner.
Slower day at the bakery today. Actually had cinnamon buns and croissants left at closing time, along with a half dozen loaves of bread, three baguettes, and two bags worth of ciabatta buns. Made for some extra work at the end of my shift.
While I was working Kat was in town running errands with the boys. On their way back home, as she was driving down Main Street, the car decided to stop working. At least she was able to pull into an open parking spot.
So it's at the garage now, and they'll be looking at it tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed for good news.
"Honey, have you seen my watch?"
"Um... have you seen my car keys?"
"Don't you always leave them on the hook in the kitchen?"
"Yeah, but they're not there."
"Maybe Claire moved them when she was tidying up in there this morning."
"I guess that's something she'd do."
"You know how she's always putting stuff back in the wrong spot. It's a good thing she's so nice."
"Yeah, she's a real sweetheart. Hey, do you know where my wallet is?"
"It's just... I could have sworn I left it right here."
"It'll turn up eventually."
"I guess. Oh... have you s-"
"I'm trying to get dinner ready in here! Can't it wait until later?"
"I guess. It's just... I feel like maybe we should know where our baby is right now..."
Write about: the time machine.
Worked from 8 until 4 at the bakery and was on my feet the whole time, aside from my 15 minute break to eat lunch. So... I'm a little tired right now.
It went well, though. At the end of the day there were only two loaves of bread on the shelf, along with a handful of croissants and some butter tarts in the pastry case. Closing up for the first time went pretty smoothly too.
Not sure I'm quite ready to get back to it tomorrow morning, but hopefully between now and then a good night's sleep awaits.
"Does it really work?"
That was always the question. The insulting, condescending, disbelieving, neverending question. Who were they to question my work? My knowledge? My methods?
There could be only one response.
"Of course it works. Step inside, if you dare, and I will prove it to you."
If you dare. I think that's what got them. Most of them, at least. I think a few of them would have been willing to test my machine even without the challenge to their courage. Their curiosity was too large to allow them to walk away without finding out for certain, one way or another. It was the moon, pulling at the tide of their imagination.
Every last one of them did consent to joining me on a foray through time though, regardless of their reasons and motivations. And, of course, I vanquished their doubts in each instance. Turned them all into believers. Followers. Soldiers.
I have a small army of time warriors now. I can send teams off to anywhere in history, ready to do my bidding. And, should they fail, I can always send others, until the desired result is achieved.
My desired result.
The ramifications are quite magnificent, really. To be honest they fill me with such a feeling of exhilaration. Whenever I take the time to acknowledge them. Appreciate them. Bask in them.
I am the most powerful person in the world... and nobody knows who I am.
Write two haiku about: the boys are back in town.
Kat got back to her counselling work this morning. In order to give her the space required, I took Max and Miles into town. It was the first time on my own with the both of them away from the farm.
We ended up at the park where we happened to run into some friends. Max did pretty well playing on his own until it was time to bring his little brother back home for milk. Afterward, as Miles was still awake, I brought them back into town again - this time for a walk/stroller ride/bike ride along the lake.
Definitely challenging but good to spend some time out of the house with the both of them.
Tomorrow I start my first of four straight 8 until close shifts at the bakery. Sleep... might be an idea worth investigating at this point.
The boys are back and
they're gonna be trouble - so
lock up your daughters
* * *
Empty, frightened streets
keep a close eye on the pub;
last call is coming
Write about: the classroom.
The fall session of soccer started up this afternoon, so I was there with Max. He was happy to find that not only were there only five other kids in the class, he was also the second oldest. I'm hoping both of those things will help him to be more comfortable and confident there.
He got off to a good start at any rate.
Still feeling exhausted from yesterday's activities. I should sleep.
"Has anyone seen Mr. Williams?" the principal asked from the doorway to the classroom.
"What, like, today?" Brock said as he tapped a cigarette out of his newly unwrapped package.
"Yes, today, Mr. Kennedy," the principal replied. "And I'm not even going to ask how a 12 year old got those - just put them away, please."
"Your mom gave them to me last night."
"That is more than enough, Mr. Kennedy." The principal glared at him for a few moments before turning his attention to the remainder of the students in the room. "So. Mr. Williams? Today? Anyone?"
"Pretty sure he quit," Shannon said without looking up from her phone.
"Yesterday," Annie added with the most enthusiastic smile the principal had seen in his school in years.
"Probably finally realized he could make more money on a street corner downtown than in this dump," Wade said before returning to his artwork on the ceiling. The principal made a point to not look too closely at what it was he was depicting up there.
"Children, this is not ap-"
"Just like your mom," Brock cut in, earning a round of applause from the students and another glare from the principal.
"I won't be calling in a substitute this time," the principal told them once relative silence returned. Then he continued before the cheers could get too loud, "I'll be bringing in the local Drill Sergeant instead."
Write about: the country fair.
Went to the Rock Creek Fall Fair with the family today. Met up with Becky, her mom, Natalie, and Emersyn, and spent pretty much our whole time there together.
Max and Natalie went on rides together, we watched a clown perform for a while, and we could not resist buying the kids cowboy hats. I think you might be able to figure out why:
The highlight came pretty early in the day though. So let me get right to that.
Becky and Adam have their two horses here on the farm now, so Natalie has grown up around them. I don't know how often she rides them, but I've seen her on one with Becky at her side a few times. She's got her own helmet and saddle and what not.
Max, on the other hand, has never been on a horse.
When we first met up with Natalie at the fair she was super excited to show us where she was going to go for a horse ride. Max had zero interest in joining her. He did want to watch though.
The eight of us went back to the main area of the fair to look at the animals and watch the clown, and Natalie got her face painted as well. Then it was time for her ride.
"Max, do you want to go on a horse like Natalie?" Becky asked.
"No," he replied. And then he surprised me. "Because I don't have my helmet here - it's at home!"
"Oh, they have helmets you can use here," Becky told him. "Do you want to do it now?"
And then he blew me away.
I'm sorry, what? Where did this brave little man come from?
So we took them over. And, I have to admit, the entire time I was expecting him to balk once he saw the horse he'd have to get up on. But he did not.
I lifted him up (he even picked one of the bigger horses they had available) and walked next to him almost the whole time. Started out holding one of his hands, then I got him to hold the pommel with both hands while I had my hand on his back. Then, at the very end, I let go entirely and backed off a bit, letting the little cowgirl who was leading his horse around be fully in charge of things.
He had a frickin' blast:
He also said he wanted to ride again, on one of the other horses, after we had lunch.
Anyway. I was very proud of him. Not least because I am not at all comfortable around horses (the last time I was on one was as a child and I was terrified pretty much the whole time). He's been going through a pretty shy phase recently and it was so great to see him come out of his shell at the fair today.
Hopefully this will help him out in other situations as well. But even if it doesn't, it made for a great time today.
This week our four line poems get to ponder this question: where are we going?
Endured a rainy market in Penticton today. Still did fairly well, considering, but I would have much preferred if the weather had been a little more pleasant.
Ah well, that's done for the year. Now to focus on other things.
Wake up, get out of bed,
Feet hit the floor, it's full speed ahead;
Don't think, no time for slowing,
Or even asking, Where are we going?