Saturday, December 29, 2012

Mindful Writing Challenge 2013

~For those interested, I shall keep ALL 31 of my SMALL STONES 
here in this blog post and update everyday.
The updates will not appear in the blog followers but will pop up on Google+

   Enjoy! Be Mindful!
And much gratitude to Writing Our Way Home for the opportunity.
xox  ~Mimi

While you're waiting, here's a fun blog post
from the RIVER OF STONES publication from 2011
I have wonderful friends!  :)
click here for:  A RIVER OF STONES 2011 BBQ & BOOK SIGNING

AROS Crazy BBQ & Book Signing


Practice Stone  12/30/12

"Pine needles from my humble Yule bough drop demurely in the glittering snow gifting me with a lady slipper pattern of heart's desire."
And Here We Go.....

January 1
"A lone, exquisitely tattered fragment of lace dangles from my antique tablecloth, divulging old, sweet tasting tales of the goat who used to live here." 

January 2
"Christmas lights from across the way glimmer against the chaste snowflakes, leaping 
upward to reflect upon a moon which isn't there."

January 3
"I count slow thrice inside my head these days before spewing forth thick honey mead
or bitter thin venom from my hushed tongue."

January 4
"A salmon sky forms  the letter V, pointing to a place I'll never go again."

January 5
A slightly bigger stone
click here:   January 5th Stone

January 6
"Tang of Christmas-past pine needles delights my nose
as the munch-munch-munch of joyful goats on a cold Sunday morn is the only sound I hear."

January 7
"Rouged, cherubic cheeks of the setting sun give way to the cool, lascivious sliver
of the rising moon."

January 8
"Mary and Joseph kneel humbly in the snow, comforted by the knowledge that a giant polar bear protects the baby Jesus."

January 9
"Just in case any of you were talking about chipping in to get me a present, I've been thinking that I should like a mime from Paris. He could live in my basement and when I'm bored he would amuse me with funny faces and that stuck-in-a-box  thing they do. He'd probably only need to eat invisible bread and cheese, which is good because I never cook. I'd name him Mimey, which would go well with Mimi, though it would probably confuse people. But not as confused as they would be when I told them that a mime from France lived in my cellar. We'd have a lot of fun. And on days when it rained, Mimey would hold a lovely umbrella for me as we walked in place on the street. But I would still get wet."

January 10
"Birds tweeting and the drip-drip-drip sounds as though Spring  has arrived, even though I know it can't have done." 

January 11
~Clan of the Cave Fox~
"Thick smoke drifts from the neighbor's patio with savory smells that make my mouth water,
reminding me that single girls rarely cook raw meat over an open flame on a warm January day."

January 12
"Once upon a time, a while ago, I gave directions to my house for someone to deliver something to my mailbox because I wasn't home. Later, he emailed me and said: "I was so disappointed when I saw your house. I imagined you lived in a rose covered, thatched roof cottage at the end of a dirt road, with a perpetual rainbow and animals in costume dancing on your front lawn." I seriously didn't know what he was talking about. The Cow Ballet is always in progress whenever I leave the house.........."

January 13
"If words fall in a blog and nobody reads them do they make a sound?"

January 14
"I shall need a donkey when I go to France. I won't do very well because my French is terribly bad as I refuse to conjugate my verbs, but I could sing Mon Ane to the people in Paris until someone came for me and showed me where to purchase the lilac colored shoes. With my money left, we could have a grand garden party at the Eiffel Tower and, as we sipped our tea and nibbled violet petite fours, I would tell the people of France stories about my ass. And that's how I know it will be lovely when I go to France."

January 15
"A terrifying wind swept through the land, leaving behind sweet light and a blue, cloudless sky."

January 16
"Sharp pine needles, hunter green moss, crushed wild violets and a musky tang that lingers in my hair long after he has gone."

January 17
"Cold, white winter moon shines down on the storm ruins of my once tidy backyard."

January 18
"Fine, fat, flaxen flakes fall furiously forever."

January 19

"The stitches in time
where the light falls seven locks
words in a French Life"

(as I was jotting down the titles of the books I'm currently reading
I noticed they made a Haiku.......)

"Moons ago, when I was young, the lawn and field edge were always covered with the most lovely flower. Like a Dandelion in gypsy garb. My Uncle Whitey called it an Indian Paintbrush. It was orange and black with a tiny bit of yellow, and feathery, like a paintbrush dipped in nature's paint. My Uncle Whitey was smart that way.
You never can find that flower any more. It went away. I think it loved my Uncle Whitey so much it went with him when he left."

"I have been devouring those *I Lost My Mind and Went to France* books-which, by the by, will be the title of the book of stories I write when I go to France.
 I long to reside in a maison bourgeoise....and savor clafoutis....(mostly because I like saying clafoutis....come on, say it with me......claufoutis! There! Wasn't that fun!....and haunt the brocantes until the vendors knew the exact sort of lace I adore........"


"I'm having breakfast at McDee's in my barn clothes but I'm pretending that I'm brunching in Paris and wearing a lovely scarlet gypsy skirt covered in bells that tinkle when I summon the waiter for more cheese.  It's the sort of place where they don't mind if one dines with a goat.  Edith Piaf made it partway through La Vie En Rose before screaming made up French obscenities and slapping an elderly mime.  My little donkey ordered the gateau au chocolat with blood orange parfait.  We both agreed it was an excellent choice.

And the carousel keeps going round and round.

I do wish you could all visit inside my head.
  Except for the purple plum place.  You're not going to want to go there."

"You grin and show me
the empty path you cut
through the dense woods.
From either side green leaves beckon
offering false safety.
My old red cape drags behind me
as I journey to the end
wondering when the wolf will appear."

"One day I shall live in a small village in france with a modest herd of goats, two funny ducks, one black and white cow and a beloved Yellow Dog. And the people of the village will know I am awake of a morn when they see my shutters open to the sun. After a modest breakfast of lavender tea and hard bread with blackberry jam it will be time to walk the stone path and climb the pasture hill.
The goats will be impatient and call, "Allons, Mimi! Dépêchez-vous! La journée est votre appel!" and we will begin our day's journey making a grand parade."


Anonymous said...

Do I dare try this? January is not a good month for me to be fully engaged because of the incredibly short days. I can hardly wait to read yours.

mimsy said...

LOVE your blog! I wish you had been on the group-page, inspiring us to even greater heights of lunacy! XX