If you can't say something nice, at least make it funny!

Thanks for visiting Tinfoil Magnolia, a blog about my life, times, marriage, friendships and all the strange things that happen to me and with me. I hope you find something here that will encourage you, inspire you or at the least entertain you. And if it doesn't today, check back tomorrow because, my life? honestly...

Saturday, October 20

Enough about me...

Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word.

Click the link to read the other entries-good stuff over there! This week's prompt word is: tremble.

Each week I talk, I write, I photograph. I capture moments in time that will be forgotten as soon as the papers, tossed in a corner and bound for recycling.

Capturing that one moment of small town life, it's amazing. For me, getting to tell someone's story is an honor.

A cancer survivor, wounded veterans cycling across the state, an artist with disabilities showing his work in a local exhibit. This was my week.

I am always humbled by the task of putting what I feel into words. I tremble in anticipation of the Wednesday delivery. It's my judgment day.


Saturday, October 13

Release


Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. Click the link to read the other entries–good stuff over there!

This week's prompt was inspired by last week's advice from Kurt Vonnegut and continues the thought of finding your voice.
Every character should want something. Even if it is just a glass of water."
 
This week's post takes the same scene as before and shows it from another character's perspective. I hope I've captured that in this post.


Pacing, he wondered how long it would last. She was terrified of being restrained in any way. He couldn't stop thinking of the torture he knew she felt.

But she had to learn.

He stood watch outside the door all night, heard her struggle as she drifted in and out of awareness. If only she would relax and calm down. Sunlight flooded the kitchen. He checked his watch.

It was finally quiet, wind chimes playing in the breeze. His hand was hovering over the doorknob when he heard her whimper. He walked away, shaking his head.


She had to learn.

Wednesday, October 10

Sixty Years

Every week as part of my job I edit the Society section of our newspaper. Now, in a town as small as ours, I tend to think of it more as “society.” But anyway... Each week I see announcements come through for someone's wedding, anniversary, class reunion, new baby, etc. Oh, and obituaries, too.

This week I found myself writing an announcement for my parent's 60th anniversary. Now, knowing them, it was difficult to write. I am used to people bringing in something already well written, or a form that holds the pertinent information from which I can cobble an announcement.

As I was writing it I realized that I know precious little about my parents and how they got married. I mean, I knew they sort of eloped and didn't have the big fanfare wedding that so many of us do. (guilty!) I thought they got married in Missouri. Or something like that.


Now, most announcements go something like this (names and events are totally fictional):


John and Mary Smith will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary on Saturday with a reception at Whatever Church at 2 p.m. John Smith and the former Mary Brown were married Oct. 1, 1962 at the Holy Church of Getting Married in Franklin, Ky. in a service performed by Rev. Snodberry.

The Smiths have four children, daughters Angie (Bubba) Jones and Helen (Frank) Rosenstein; two sons John (Mervis) Smith, Jr. and Bill (Arizona) Smith; The couple has 10 grandchildren, Anna, Bubba Jr. (BJ), KiKi, BeBe, JJ, John III (Trip), Penelope, Dexter, Roseanne and Willie. They also have 3 great-grandchildren. All reside in Franklin.

After the reception the couple has planned a skydiving trip. All friends and family are invited to attend.

No joke, I actually got a 50th where they were planning to skydive. Anway, when I read these and don't know the people, I imagine a great big loving family. I always think, now if families could just be like that, you know? Who knows what the truth is.

So, I write out my parents' announcement and it goes something like this:

Jack and Geneva Peyton recently celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary with a small family dinner at their favorite restaurant. The couple was married Oct. 6, 1952 in Ringwood, a small town in northern Illinois.

The couple has two children, Marsha Herndon and Steve Peyton, and one son-in-law Mitch Herndon.

Hm. Yeah. So to recap. I have no kids. My brother never married AND he has no kids. And I didn't plan a party for them because we did the 50th and they insisted they didn't want one.

WHO is a bigger failure at being a daughter than me?

It seems precious little to put out there to show for 60 years of marriage. I realized that we do measure a family by not just the people, but also progeny, activites, involvement, etc. It just doesn't tell the whole story, now does it.

I realized that perhaps if we wrote the truth in these, they'd tell more of the story. Be much more interesting. I found myself rewriting mom and dad's in my head to be something like this:

Jack and Geneva Peyton recently celebrated 60 years of marriage. Sadly, there was no party to celebrate because their daughter was “too busy” to plan something and said she “just had one ten years ago” and wasn't that enough.

The couple was married on a cool October Saturday after working all week and looking for a place without a 3 day waiting period. Their third attempt was successful and they obtained blood tests and a marriage license in Ringwood, Il and were married on the spot by a minister who was out working in his yard.

Although they wanted more, the couple have only two children. Daughter Marsha and son Steven. Much to their regret they have no grandchildren. Their daughter “doesn't want them.” They are also greatly disappointed by her leaving the church and feel she will burn in hell. Son Steven repented and returned to the church after a long absence. So he should be ok. He's found god, now if only he could find a good woman.

This of course is my own self-destructive thought process and should in no way be interpreted as theirs. Maybe it's my interpretation of how they feel. Possibly based on former events and conversations. Not that they'd come on out and say it. Anyway....

I do really love my parents and wish that I could be more of what they want out of a daughter. I'm really not a bad person, they just had other ideas for me. I'm simply not capable of it. And anyway, their raising me made me who I am so I owe them many, many thanks.

At the very least, they deserve all the riches in the world for making a marriage work through 60-damn-years! 

Saturday, October 6

A glass of water


Today's post is my entry into this week's 100 Word Challenge, hosted by Velvet Verbosity. The 100 Word Challenge is an exercise in which we write exactly 100 words in response to the weekly prompt word. Click the link to read the other entries–good stuff over there!

I've been on a long hiatus from the challenge, and blogging too I guess. However this week blog-friend Lance inspired me to step up. 

This week's prompt was inspired from advice from Kurt Vonnegut and inspires us to find our voice. 
Every character should want something. Even if it is just a glass of water."



She lay on her back as the ceiling swirled above her. Her throat dry as a Texas summer, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Shutting her eyes she tried not to think of the sweet, cool relief only 20 steps away.

Day was breaking, casting thin slices of light around the room. She heard trees rustling as the breeze blew through them. She willed her limbs to move but they refused; there was no slack in the rope.

Swallowing hard, she wished he would return but knew he would not. He was fond of teaching her these lessons.