I might start with the writing prompt – just in case you’ve been waiting around all day for it.
Writing prompt #211
Stand in front of your bookshelf. Close your eyes. Reach out five times, randomly selecting a book each time. Write a paragraph about each book, starting with where you got it/who gave it to you, what it was about, what it meant to you, where it has been with you, where it has taken you.
Having to go back to work has made me think: how good is it to have time? It’s what everybody wants, and nobody ever thinks they have it. You can’t even buy it. Not really. And it’s a man-made thing! Should be at our whim, right? We should be able to just, you know – yell out, ‘Scott, I’m just off to Sheppo to get some time. Need anything?’ Should be able to get time, take time, make time, any time. Especially for all the good stuff, things we love to do. But time always goes somewhere else. To some responsibility you must meet, a job you have to go to, housework you should be doing (!). All important stuff, all things you believe in doing (oh, yeh, especially housework, I really believe in housework).
Well. What about those rare pockets of time when you find yourself in the inexplicable position of having time? You have that ‘how did that get there?’ moment. You’re gifted with coming home to an empty house. Somehow two long lovely hours stretch between you and your next responsibility. Two lovely hours of time. All yours. You close your eyes for a minute (yes, it’s ok to use one minute of this precious time to be grateful), and imagine all the things you can do with this time.
So much you COULD do! Get out your laptop, your note book, get some words down. Catch up on the writers newsletters that came in today. Even do some research or coursework!
But wait! What you actually do is – put up the fairy lights on the deck.
Sigh. Anyway. Good luck with the prompt.