What to Say! What to Say!

I saw the list of writing above on a couple of Facebook walls earlier this week and didn't think much about it until I realized that I took no photos yesterday----not one.

That meant I actually have to write about something today.  

Oh, I could write about loaning a neighbor kid two gallons of gas cuz his truck ran dry near Gary Finney's driveway yesterday.

Unfortunately, that idea would run out of its own gas pretty soon. 

Or, our dining experience with former Ponderette drill team captain Sue Self and her husband last night would be nice.  

The fact that it was non-stop talk between husbands (both fishing fanatics) and wives (both retired educators with family ties to Wallace) would be of interest for only so long. 

I did buy a new set of pruning shears yesterday, and the annual fall shrub and plant trimming has begun.  

Still, there's not a lot to be said, just a lot to be cut. 

So, of course, I went back to the list above, hoping something could be of inspiration. 

Scanning the  awe-inspiring topics, I'd say a few things jumped out at me-----earliest memory, things you'd say to an ex, tattoos I have and their meaning and, finally, putting my music player on shuffle and writing the first three songs that play and what is my initial thought?

Inspiring, I must say!

Now, earliest memory I could handle---vaguely.  

My earliest memory couldn't hold a candle to Adam Long's.  He was only two days old when he remembers the nurse bringing wee Willie Love (was he ever wee?) into the Bonner General Hospital nursery.  Amazing!

In my case, I'd have to go back to about age 4 when company came to our new home on North Boyer.  The company included my Aunt Rita and Uncle George and their first daughter Loretta.  

I remember making friends with Loretta, but what I remember most was thinking, sometime in the middle of the night of their stay, that I needed to make donuts.  With everyone sleeping, I wouldn't have to ask permission.

So, I went to the kitchen, got out the flour from the lower cupboard and a container.  I must have put some liquid into the bowl cuz the next thing I remember was a mess all over the kitchen floor.  

I think that signaled my need to get back to bed before being caught.  

I think also that I was safe from my mother's wrath when she discovered it the next morning cuz, of course, we had company and screaming at the culprit in front of the company was not an option.

That's about all I remember of my first memory. 

Then, there's the topic about things you'd say to your ex.  I'm not planning for Bill to be my ex, so I don't think I'll write on that topic. I do know things I've said to him sometimes as my non-ex, but this is a general audience, so we'll keep it civil. 

On the tattoos.  I must be dating myself (really, now that's a concept), and since I am dating myself (just in case Bill ever becomes my ex), I don't think I'd get too excited about seeing my tattoos, so I've stayed away from the tattoo parlors.

I'll just keep on dating myself and then if I ever become my ex, I might have to come up with some good stuff to say to me.  

I really liked the last of the inspirational writing topics, simply because it made me think a lot---mainly like "What the heck was it trying to suggest?"  

Iz there a shuffle button on my CD player?  I know one does not exist on my computer.  I do listen to Irish music every morning, and if I had a shuffle button, maybe I'd hear "Whiskey in the Jar" before "All for Me Grog" and then "Waxies Dargle."

So, those choices do present some problems, meaning I must keep studying the topic possibilities.  I have done that once more and am happy to talk about the night of my 21st birthday, which occurred when I was 21. 

When I was one and twenty, my first and last memory of the night is that my friend---who was two and twenty and someone else (maybe Sally O'Donnell)--took me out for my first legal drink. 

It was a beer, just one, and I do believe it may have been imbibed at the Middle Earth tavern, with a smoke or two.  We were SO adult way back then!  

I will not mention this person's name but will disclose that she once spent a lot of time playing pinochle in an elevator when it got stuck between floors at the Wallace Complex on the University of Idaho campus.

Now, there is something to write about!  And I did way back when.  My completed assignment appeared in the University of Idaho Argonaut with the headline "Carter Hall Girls Get the Shaft."

A few years later, thanks to the fact that she lived to tell about the stuck-elevator incident, we did celebrate my 21st birthday and may have even discussed the "near-death-while-playing-pinochle" incident.

But I can't remember. 

I think I've remembered enough on this day with no pictures and have probably dealt with enough topics above to make up for almost a week's worth of the 30-Day Writing Challenge.

Tomorrow, I'll discuss my feelings on age-ism, only if my memory is serving me correctly.  

The End!