Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. For your twist, pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths.
1967 – My eighth home: Dennert’s Road, Hamilton.
I’m not counting the times our family has lived with grandparents, nor the times we had to go to relatives during mum’s pregnancies – sometimes she would be so sick she couldn’t look after us. I’m only counting the homes I can remember. Although I do not have any photographs from 1967, we still lived at Walker’s Farm in 1970 when dad gave me an old Box Brownie camera.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to do a full story and photographs again. For this long version, you will need to go to this page from the About Me menu. I’m a bit annoyed, as I have a full front-on photo somewhere, but can’t lay my hands on it just now.
It was a typical farm-house. That’s it on the far right of the photo. A front and back veranda.
Taken half way along our short cut across the paddock to catch the school bus.
Writing 101, Day Three: Commit to a Writing Practice
Write about the three most important songs in your life — what do they mean to you? … Today’s twist: You’ll commit to a writing practice. …
I’m as close to committing to a writing practice as I’m going to get. And I don’t see how writing about three songs has anything to do with the committment to writing for fifteen minutes a day. A twist of the imagination? [added later – oh yes, talking blogging writing habit ]
First song, my all time favourite is America’s “A Horse With No Name”.
I was a young mother with two very young children when this song came out. Though who knows, it could have been out for ages before it filtered on the 3HA’s playlist. (Hamilton, Victoria) It resonated with me, particularly the line ‘for there aint no-one to give you no pain’. At the time I was deep in denial that I had made a big mistake by getting married. I kept telling myself just as well I never acted on my instinct to run away before the big day. I would have looked very foolish when I later discovered I was pregnant. Two weeks, by my reckoning, on the big day. I don’t think I would have been able to bring myself to have an abortion, but I probably would have. We had lots of girls going through the Mt Gambier hospital for D & C’s, took me some time to realise what was going on! But then I have always been naïve. It’s taken me decades to work some things through in my head, to find what happened was different to what I thought was happening at the time. I don’t know if that makes sense. [sigh]
My second song is more recent. I fell in love with “Miss Murder” by AFI. I think the film clip influenced me – I KNOW the film clip influenced me. I just loved the whole drama of it. My favourite line is when he (Billy? Davey) sings about reaching for the golden ring that was promised and sings something like, “Will he let you get your filthy hands upon it”, which I take to mean will God let you get what you want. On second thought, I might love the growl in his throat during the rabbit scene. In the cd the prelude and Miss Murder are separate tracks, the video long version has both. (see at end for the video)
And I just cannot think of a third favourite song, my music tastes are diverse. I can say I love certain songs, but if I don’t have the record then I don’t love them enough … oh, gee, how could I forget … Meatloaf and ‘Bat Out Of Hell’ the title track. I was introduced to Meatloaf and Alice Cooper, both, during a party at the home of Mr Ex’s close friend. (The one I came too close to myself, eventually) [oops, wrong party]
Many years later, my Mr R and I saw Alice Cooper in concert in Melbourne at the tennis centre, and when I first saw him I surprised myself by leaping to my feet and screaming! It came from no-where and was completely unexpected, never happened at Bob Dylan or even Tex Perkins. Most of the concert I think I had my mouth hanging open, but I can’t really say I love Alice Cooper’s songs over any of the others I have named, especially this Meatloaf.
I haven’t been watching the time, but who cares. I have written this out pretty quick without really thinking about the three choices I made. Now I will polish up, and track down utube films to embed, etc. You can choose if you listen, or not. Oh, I will also check the lyrics on the lines I’ve quoted, for accuracy. Don’t want to look too stupid.
And then I’m going to pop my Miss Murder single in the player, watch the video and blast my eardrums. I think it’s my favourite. You know, I have no idea what I said at number one now [scrolls up] oh yes, …. ummmm…
A piece of writing for the Writing 101 challenge – I am trying to relate all challenges to my novel. This is a new scene which may or may not stay. If it does, it precedes what I have written so far. 🙂 Of course, I am days behind in the challenge.
Today, choose a place to which you’d like to be transported if you could — and tell us the backstory. How does this specific location affect you? Is it somewhere you’ve been, luring you with the power of nostalgia, or a place you’re aching to explore for the first time?
Today’s twist: organize your post around the description of a setting.
Love gave Jarryd new eyes.
He couldn’t remember the view ever looking quite this good.
Amusement drifted through the mindpath, and he felt a rumbling laugh vibrating under him. Jarryd patted the dragon’s green neck, grinning to himself. It would take more than his dragon laughing at him to stop his thoughts turning to the girl waiting for him back in Skerby.
He could see his stepfather’s keep ahead, the stone glistening high on the seaward side where the sea pummelled past on its sweep over the rocky island.
Below him the estuary opalised. Blues, grays and yellows, amid swathes of brightly coloured algae, twisted and writhed as the waters ran out to feed the salty behemoth eagerly awaiting beyond.
Jarryd glanced back behind him, tracing the path of the largest river as far as he could see. He couldn’t see the Great Waterfall, but he knew it was there, with its mists clinging, climbing, hanging over the mills and houses lining the shores below. Above the waterfall, he could see the waters of Lake Turras glinting, a vast inland sea, to the foot of the mountains blurring the horizon.
He sighed as he turned to look at his destination: almost home. The view seemed to darken.
Christine R 
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