The One

Summer Sunflower

 

Daily Prompt: Keep Out

by michelle w. on July 9, 2013

Who is the one person you hope isn’t reading your blog? Why?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us OUTSIDE.

When I think of the question “who is the one person you hope isn’t reading your blog?”
I actually have a hard time narrowing it down to just one person, and for so many different reasons.
Believe me, I know that this is a public site, and when I hit the “Publish” button, it is free game –
for anyone – to look me up, to critique my work, to say whatever they choose,
to hurt me or to encourage me,
but when I think about that question,
there are few people that come to mind –
that (quite honestly) I wouldn’t be upset
if they were not reading my blog.

It doesn’t matter, how hard you try
There’s always that one professor, who has pegged you
as the “B” student, because he doesn’t like your metaphors
Thank you  for those sleepless nights, those numerous drafts ..
red marks, feedback that often left me in tears.
sometimes – there is no metaphor
Sometimes, It just is what it is
Professor P – this stanza is for you..
I really hope you aren’t reading my blog.

Life is too short to copy and compete with others
Our friendship started to diminish as you tried
and tried to copy ALL of my likes, my dislikes
my hairstyle, my clothing, pretty much my life.
Other friends said I should think of it as “flattery”
I tried, but our visits soon turned into something from
“Keeping up with the Jones’s” and I lost interest
in this superficial friendship.
“Xerox”- I really hope you are  not reading my blog.

Those who are closest to you are the ones who hurt you the most..
to the sibling and sometimes the parent who lashed out at me
because they are unhappy in their own life
I’ll never forget that voice mail – on my honeymoon..
I was disloyal to my family for not lying,
for believing in accountability..
to ‘the one’ who never said he would read this blog again,
to “the one’ who has erased me out of her life
I really hope you aren’t reading my blog

Ex-girlfriends and Ex-boyfriends
There is a reason why you are an EX
It’s time to let go and move on
Nate and I are happier than we’ve ever been
Please stop “friend requesting”, “Twitter Inviting”..
and filling your head with these “what if” scenarios
It is NEVER going to happen!
I hope you find your own happiness,
But I also hope you aren’t reading my blog.

-By Heather Decker

 

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Weekly Writing Post Challenge: Listen to the Voices in Your Head – “A Decker Daycation” -By Heather Decker

My Purse Dog “Post It” Note – my kind of style!

Last weekend Hope and Chris invited my husband and I to spend the weekend at their cabin near Roslyn, Washington.  Normally, I would rely on the GPS in my car for driving instructions, I’m an absolute mess when it comes to finding new places on my own! But, as Hope insisted she give me them over the phone Friday evening, the blank Post It Note stared back at me, waiting for some action.  Let’s face it, there’s just something about a cute little dog dressed in a pink button up jacket .. hair bows and all that makes a Post It note extra special and quite thrilling to write on! My instructions were exact, without any question and left no room for error, mirroring the same characteristics I so highly valued in my friend Hope, who also knew of my shortcomings with directions and without hesitation restated them for me, as I wrote them down, word for word.

Chris & Hope’s Cabin Aug. 2012

In the four years of attending college in Ellensburg, never once did I venture out towards Roslyn or any of the towns surrounding this little gem of a weekend getaway.  We arrived at the cabin Saturday afternoon, greeted by some of the tallest trees I’ve ever seen in my life.  The cabin reminded me of a cozy hide-a-way on a cold winter’s night. Dark stained wood panels lined the cabin’s rustic exterior, along with two small windows on either side of the door. The windows were just big enough for you to watch snowflakes fall from the inside and the coffee pot brewing from the outside.  The porch, adorned with a red floor mat and a white screen door, awaited my entrance.

As I walked inside, Hope filled me in on the details of the cabin. “Roslyn used to be a coal mining town, and so this cabin was originally built to house coal mining workers,” she said. The inside was no larger than about 500 square feet. I looked around at the space being used. A kitchenette to my right which included a sink, a counter and some cupboards above, and a wood stove in the corner.  Directly in front of me, a 1970’s style sofa, and a door leading into the restroom. A flat screen television (newest addition) directly hung on the wall in front of the sofa.  To my left, an alcove that housed two bunk beds on one side, and another small window, offering sunlight over the queen sized bed on the other side, still allowing for a small walkway between both beds.  This cabin (even for its small size) could easily house 6 grown adults. The outhouse (behind the cabin, respectfully built for two), replaced with an indoor bathroom, which included the essentials: a sink for brushing your teeth and washing hands, a mirror for fixing your hair, a few hooks for hanging bathing suits and swim trunks, a freezer/fridge for holding more of the essentials: fruity drinks, hamburgers & sausages for campfire BBQ‘s, and the most important essential of all: a toilette…much preferred over the two person outhouse!  What once was used as shelter for coal mining workers is now used as a vacation cabin just one block away from a crystal clear reservoir, otherwise known as Lake SPY.. something rather.  I promised Chris I would not disclose the actual name of this reservoir, and honestly I can’t remember the particular spelling of it anyway.

A beautiful day on “Lake Spy”

As we ventured on out and walked down to the beach, I imagined the family life of others living in that cabin during the coal mining days.  I imagined a husband coming home to his cabin, his sanctuary after a long day of working underground, shovel in one hand and maybe a lantern in the other, breathing in the worst of fumes, filling up one cart after the next, full of black pieces of rock, until the whistle blew, giving him permission to go home. I imagined his wife inside cooking dinner over an old wood-stove, while his two small children help gather the wood outside to keep the fire going while they sleep.  I imagined a home, a safe haven, that he looked forward to seeing at the end of each day.  And now, this very same cabin continues to serve its purpose.. as a getaway from ringing cell phones, Facebook status updates, and the never ending stresses of the daily grind.  It allows time for those priceless moments filled with heartfelt conversations, a “little” laughter over the fear of being stuck in the bathroom, or maybe just pure silence.. with the exception of chipmunks and their chatter.  “Isn’t it nice to just be off the grid for awhile?” Hope says, as I slip back to reality from my daydream, realizing we are now standing in front of a beautiful lake.. in which I’ve promised not to disclose its whereabouts. “Yes”, I reply .. already inspired and thinking about what I’ll end up blogging about this cabin and our daycation!