This week there are several prompts I think are fun so I'm picking two from Mama's Losin' It.
6.) Share a sleep walking story of your own!!
When I was little I used to sleep walk A LOT. On one particular night I got up walked out the front door, across the yard and into my dad's barn. I then turned around and walked back to the house (a trailer at the time) and found that I was locked out. I began to cry and beat on the door waking and scaring the holy hell out of my parents. I went back to bed not traumatized at all, but my mom says she stayed up crying the whole night. My mom had my dad install a chain on that door the next day. Later I tried it again. I got my body out, but not my head, thanks to the chain!
5.) List ten things that make you HAPPY:
1. my kids. Now this one could be broken down into several installments detailing all the ways they make me happy. Not the least of which is playing happily together...
2. my husband. This one also could be listed as several different things but let's uh keep it PG.
3. a clean house. And not just anyone's. Mine. I can handle absolutely anything if my house is clean. Seriously.
4. chocolate. Ghiardelli caramel filled chocolate squares do the trick nicely.
5. money. Not in the sense that it sounds like. BUT, I don't have to worry about it so that makes me happy. I mean, no we can't buy anything we want and no we're not building the dream home this year, but I just spent almost $400 on groceries and miscellaneous at Walmart and didn't even really think about it. I mean I thought 'wow that was a lot of groceries.' I didn't think 'oh now we can't pay the water bill.' And that makes me incredibly blessed.
6. scrapbooking. I'm simple that way.
7. quiet alone time. I crave it. A lot of stay at home moms crave adult interaction. Not me--I would be happy to spend the entire day all by myself in a quiet house reading a book or whatever.
8. funny people. I love to be around people who are funny!
9. music. Good music is very soothing for the soul. I love to sing along in the car...by myself.
10. good smells. Or even the lack of bad smells. {wry little laugh here}
Showing posts with label writer's workshop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer's workshop. Show all posts
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Writer's Workshop
(4) I remember...
the very first person I arrested for DWI. I don't remember all the details, but I remember the overall feeling of the night. Sadness. Intense sadness. And not really on my part as I was too nervous. I was new to the job of policing, riding with my training officer-an ancient specimen and a drunk himself. We saw her driving her minivan through the parking lot of an abandoned mall leaving a Whataburger.
I can't pinpoint why I stopped her. It seems odd now, but my cop memories are either bright and shiny like the pain of slamming your shin into an open dishwasher, or dull and faceless and dominated by an emotional echo like this memory is. She was meek, an unusual thing for a drunk being arrested. Most seemed to know how it would end, and that would make them angry and argumentative. Maybe her demeanor was influenced by her two small children in the back seat. Whatever the case she was an easy first DWI arrest for me. No resisting.
Other memories of that night include the smell of Peppermint Schnapps. Her beverage of choice wedged near the driver's seat. A memory of the children crying for their mother. A memory of them hugging her as she leaned out of the back of the patrol car. A memory of her tears falling long after the children were taken away.
The quiet time after four in the morning usually left space for writing the reports. Not always, of course, police work is unpredictable. DWI reports were long and tedious. They must be flawless because they will be scrutinized. I had to turn her into CPS, of course.
During my short term as a cop, she was the only case that CPS ever took an interest in from my reporting. I never found out what happened to that family. She was just travelling through town after leaving her husband, taking her children on an all night journey to a relative's house. My memory of this is bitter and sweet. Bitter in that she was not a mother who beat her children. It was clear that she loved them, and that she was simply at the end of her rope. So the fact that her children were likely taken from her is bitter to me. On the other hand I comfort myself by thinking of the sweet. Perhaps without my intervention those children, and their mother, would have become a casualty that night.
****************************************************
I found a BLOG that gives out writing assignments and so I jumped on this one. And yes it's a true story. And yes it's a departure from my normal blog posts, but I thought it would be fun to play along with another type of challenge...
the very first person I arrested for DWI. I don't remember all the details, but I remember the overall feeling of the night. Sadness. Intense sadness. And not really on my part as I was too nervous. I was new to the job of policing, riding with my training officer-an ancient specimen and a drunk himself. We saw her driving her minivan through the parking lot of an abandoned mall leaving a Whataburger.
I can't pinpoint why I stopped her. It seems odd now, but my cop memories are either bright and shiny like the pain of slamming your shin into an open dishwasher, or dull and faceless and dominated by an emotional echo like this memory is. She was meek, an unusual thing for a drunk being arrested. Most seemed to know how it would end, and that would make them angry and argumentative. Maybe her demeanor was influenced by her two small children in the back seat. Whatever the case she was an easy first DWI arrest for me. No resisting.
Other memories of that night include the smell of Peppermint Schnapps. Her beverage of choice wedged near the driver's seat. A memory of the children crying for their mother. A memory of them hugging her as she leaned out of the back of the patrol car. A memory of her tears falling long after the children were taken away.
The quiet time after four in the morning usually left space for writing the reports. Not always, of course, police work is unpredictable. DWI reports were long and tedious. They must be flawless because they will be scrutinized. I had to turn her into CPS, of course.
During my short term as a cop, she was the only case that CPS ever took an interest in from my reporting. I never found out what happened to that family. She was just travelling through town after leaving her husband, taking her children on an all night journey to a relative's house. My memory of this is bitter and sweet. Bitter in that she was not a mother who beat her children. It was clear that she loved them, and that she was simply at the end of her rope. So the fact that her children were likely taken from her is bitter to me. On the other hand I comfort myself by thinking of the sweet. Perhaps without my intervention those children, and their mother, would have become a casualty that night.
****************************************************
I found a BLOG that gives out writing assignments and so I jumped on this one. And yes it's a true story. And yes it's a departure from my normal blog posts, but I thought it would be fun to play along with another type of challenge...
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