3. Complete the “Where I’m From” poem. (template here)
I completed this poem in 2011 but still really love the idea that anyone can fill in the blanks of the template and end up with a very different, but equally beautiful story. Click above for the template and take a stab at it! I’ve tweaked and updated mine a bit here:
I am from a homemade cabbage patch kid by a mother with good intentions and short on cash. From Saturday morning cartoons, sips of Tab on hot summer days and matching Easter dresses.
I am from the horseshoe on 17th avenue south, where kids scamper through a private golf course chased by angry golfers, fingers stained with blackberries.
I am from nettles that sting no matter how many cattails and ferns you use to soothe them. I am from gentle swaying Evergreens lining the deep ravine on windy nights that put thinking girls to sleep.
I am from Friday nights at Shakey’s and long lanky bodies. From Lynn and Pete, Henderson and Bouska.
I am from jokes at the dinner table and tickling and laughter. From sisters and brothers who offer strength in numbers. From cousin Laura when school is out, to cousin Matt when school is in. I am from a place surrounded by family, but who I also call friends.
From “Oohhhhh-klahoma every night my honey lamb and I!” and “Many roads lead to Mecca!” From adults who speak in riddles to keep small children from knowing.
I am from red and black plaid jumpers and Catholic hypocrisy. A fight with Jesus before my eighth birthday.
I’m from Bohemian Rhapsody and “THIS IS A SCOTTSMAN’S HOUSE!”, mom’s homemade spaghetti and chocolate frosted cake. Filling my belly to the sound of clanking silverware and piggy grunts…a noise that means they’re watching me.
From the bottle of spilled nail polish that stained mom’s carpet and working together to cover it up, the sound of my sister giggling whenever Mom walked past because Lord knows she wasn’t good at lying.
I am from fat leather photo albums numbered and carefully ordered by a step-dad who loved me despite me. From diaries and scrapbooks and memory boxes filled with ticket stubs and friendship. From a ghetto blaster screaming “strike a pose!” and “beat it!” and fly girl dancing.
From Dad’s blue Nikes and Mom’s eye patch. From parents who loved and gave and sacrificed and raised kids who do the same. A cycle I’m happy to continue.
The Prompts:
1. List 9 Great ways to spend winter break in your city.
2. Book review time! What winter read has you snuggled in and turning pages?
3. Complete the “Where I’m From” poem. (template here)
4. Share your top 12 blog posts from 2018.
5. Share your top 12 photos from 2018.
6. What were you blogging about a year ago? What has changed since then?