Monday to Friday
Feb. 27th, 2004 09:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dampscribblerMonday mornings for the past 3 years I have been meeting a group of writers to free-write. It's a great way to start the week.
This week, the group consisted of myself and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zoe_trope. She posted her writing on one of the topics here a few days ago. Here is my writing on the same subject, "orange and red."
orange and red
siamese twins on the color wheel,
orange the middle sibling of red and yellow,
red the overachiever, yellow
the laid-back youngest child
with the sunny disposition
-what color is yellow's shadow?
orange and red the color of her car, and her hair, not necessarily in that order
the car, a 280 ZX, red with black interior, backseat large enough only for the baby seat she carried Elizabeth in when she went one of the many places she went -- shopping at Nordstrom or shopping for a preschool or to the luncheon of the Republican county committee run mostly by ladies who had time for luncheons and felt the need to campaign for Reagan, even though he had already won. Really it was about the luncheons. Twelve women, one monthly luncheon, full service for twelve at each home once per year, always on the fine china, never the everyday plates, though silver was optional and crystal water goblets, too ostentatious, were never used -- crystal should only grace a table after dark, cut crystal, that is, though who would have thought to have blown crystal? no, the plain glass drinking goblets were the only supposed economy on those tables
oh good grief, what am I talking about, I wasn't there, I don't even know if she was on the Republican committee when Elizabeth still rode in a car seat. I know I so admired Linda for her full head of curly read hair, for her little red sports car, and for rollerskating around the neighborhood for exercise. How the neighbors sussssed and tssstd amongst themselves about Linda's sportscar and roller skates, and about the particular shade of green she had chosen to paint the front door. Linda wore heavy makeup and she wore blue blouses that drew attention to her full breasts. I never imagined a woman of suburbia could be as glamorous as Linda was. She and her husband, Tom, were among the first adults to treat me as a respected equal, despite my unripe age of just 13. They looked me in the eye when I spoke, they listened and responded thoughtfully; I was more accustomed to dismissive "mmmhmm"s or "uh-huh"s followed by a change of subject from adults. Tom was one of the first people who made me feel like I should pay attention to the things I said, because someone was listening as if what I said was worthwhile. It probably ought to be, at least enough to keep Linda and Tom listening.
This week, the group consisted of myself and
zoe_trope. She posted her writing on one of the topics here a few days ago. Here is my writing on the same subject, "orange and red."orange and red
siamese twins on the color wheel,
orange the middle sibling of red and yellow,
red the overachiever, yellow
the laid-back youngest child
with the sunny disposition
-what color is yellow's shadow?
orange and red the color of her car, and her hair, not necessarily in that order
the car, a 280 ZX, red with black interior, backseat large enough only for the baby seat she carried Elizabeth in when she went one of the many places she went -- shopping at Nordstrom or shopping for a preschool or to the luncheon of the Republican county committee run mostly by ladies who had time for luncheons and felt the need to campaign for Reagan, even though he had already won. Really it was about the luncheons. Twelve women, one monthly luncheon, full service for twelve at each home once per year, always on the fine china, never the everyday plates, though silver was optional and crystal water goblets, too ostentatious, were never used -- crystal should only grace a table after dark, cut crystal, that is, though who would have thought to have blown crystal? no, the plain glass drinking goblets were the only supposed economy on those tables
oh good grief, what am I talking about, I wasn't there, I don't even know if she was on the Republican committee when Elizabeth still rode in a car seat. I know I so admired Linda for her full head of curly read hair, for her little red sports car, and for rollerskating around the neighborhood for exercise. How the neighbors sussssed and tssstd amongst themselves about Linda's sportscar and roller skates, and about the particular shade of green she had chosen to paint the front door. Linda wore heavy makeup and she wore blue blouses that drew attention to her full breasts. I never imagined a woman of suburbia could be as glamorous as Linda was. She and her husband, Tom, were among the first adults to treat me as a respected equal, despite my unripe age of just 13. They looked me in the eye when I spoke, they listened and responded thoughtfully; I was more accustomed to dismissive "mmmhmm"s or "uh-huh"s followed by a change of subject from adults. Tom was one of the first people who made me feel like I should pay attention to the things I said, because someone was listening as if what I said was worthwhile. It probably ought to be, at least enough to keep Linda and Tom listening.
