I am participating in my ninth Slice of Life Story Challenge run by the team behind the Two Writing Teachers website. We are challenged to write a blog post a day throughout the month of March.
I sat at the kitchen table as I do every morning, waiting for my coffee to brew and contemplating how to fill my morning page with words. Noticing floated to the top of my thoughts, and I started to write about
The amaryllis in bloom on my windowsill, blood-red against a gray sky, a dollar-store gift from a beloved neighbor who has since moved away. I texted her a picture of it yesterday.
Smaller lilies propped in a tall vase, lipstick-pink and blushing white, forming a canopy over the clutter on my dining table. Ever since my fortieth birthday, we have had fresh flowers in the house, mostly bought by my husband. That's been fifteen years of flowers.
The sounds of the clock on the wall ticking, the refrigerator humming, the birds chirping outside until I was writing that sentence, when they went eerily quiet.
Piles of get-to-it-later mail, mostly destined for the recycle bin.
The kalanchoe flowers, once bright orange, are fading and about to drop, sure to make a mess on the table.
A planner filled with tasks in colorful ink, shouting at me from the sidelines.
A bright green timer cube, nestled up to a brown owl mug filled with a rainbow of Inkjoy pens. Their ink does bring me joy.
My prescription glasses resting upside down on the green gingham oilcloth, unnecessary at close quarters.
My Wonder Woman Tervis cup. It brings me joy, too.
I am chilly in my pajamas, but know that if I put on my fuzzy blue robe, I'll be hot in ten minutes. Oh, the joys of post-menopausal thermal mis-regulation.
Stickers next to my planner, swag from an online conference. A barely-eaten tub of strawberry-flavored cotton candy and an almost-finished can of lemon-flavored mineral water, also swag. I wasn't fond of the latter.