this is a page for
Category: Writing Prompts
I found some topics on Pinterest grouped monthly. Thought I’d give it a whirl.
I’ve fallen super far behind on these writing prompts (shocker) but when I was looking at the topics this morning for ideas (I’ve got the itch again) this one jumped right out. I’m a great example of a person you would come to for precisely this kind of advice. “Hey Amy, what’s fun to do in Knoxville?” “Hey, Amy, if you had one day in Pigeon Forge, what would you do?” “Hey, Amy, whatd’ya think about ridin’ this horse?” But the monumental worst decision I tend to make is….”Yes! Cotton Eyed Joes sounds like a FANTASTIC IDEA!” It’s not. It never has been. And I’ve not even been in more than ten years, but it was a terrible idea then, too. Cotton Eyed Joes is a bad idea of catastrophic proportions. It sounds like fun, let your hair down a little, have some beers, laugh at some drunk folks trying to dance or ride the mechanical bull, and then…..then it’s two o’clock in the morning and you’ve had two fishbowls, nine beers, and a line of cocaine and you’re the drunk girl on the bull….or you’re hunting “the queer in the yellow vest” to go the hell home. See how it deteriorates? QUICKLY. And then you’ve gotta…
Day 2. Some place you are grateful for. Oh myyyyyyyyy. Right now I’m grateful for all the places. All the places I can go (home, work, Food City) and all the places I used to could go. (Yes, that was intended to sound redneck. Cause I AM.) I know. I’m grateful to Holston’s. Sevierville needed them so badly and we didn’t even know. We needed a sit down lunch spot on this side of town, without having to go plumb up to Pigeon Forge or getting out on 66. We needed a place that served good food for a reasonable price, nothing fancy and some different dishes from what Ruby Tuesday’s has had for a thousand years. We needed a place to gather for a relaxing drink after work and a good spot for little groups and still private enough for a dinner date. Holston’s remains virtually undiscovered by the tourists, so you’re bound to run into someone you know when you go. The waitstaff doesn’t have a huge amount of turnover, and so they learn your preferences on where you want to sit and your favorite libation. I always feel welcome and appreciated under their care. It seems like I’ve eaten there at least once with nearly everybody I know. It’s my go-to. I like their catfish and coleslaw better than anywhere. Any time someone is unfamiliar with…
I like to think that my writing is a gift I have. Y’all tell me so, and I want to believe you. You say that reading my words is just like having me in the room with you, chatting. And that makes my heart swell. Because ain’t nothing worse than pretentious writing. I have a little sign above my desk that reminds me every day to be thankful. It says, “The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.”~Pablo Picasso I think I do. Even if I’ve had half a pot of coffee, I can write. Even when I hurt, maybe especially when I hurt, I can still write. I may not be writing about the thorn itself, but I’ll be circling it like a shark circles its prey. My other gift is my hair. It gives y’all something undeniable on which to blame my crazy. You’re welcome. It’s also a gift to me from God, that way I can shrug and say, “What’d you expect? I’m a redhead.” I think my hair was the gateway that got me here. It’s wild, and people are drawn to it. When there’s nothing else to talk about, when we’ve exhausted the weather, and what we do for a living, conversation will unfailingly turn to…
All the words!!! I want to scream from the rooftops to do what you want to do! For the last time, you’re not promised tomorrow! You’re not even promised a minute from now! Life is but a vapor, get to it. And you gotta have faith. That’s the main thing. Someone is always going to disapprove of whatever decision you make. They’ll always try to make you see things from their perspective and bend you to their will. Hey, they may be right, but you’ll never know how it might have turned out for you. You only get one spin in life, live it to your satisfaction. Don’t regret anything if you can help it. And in my experience, I regret more of what I DIDN’T do than what I did. (I bet you’re wondering what I haven’t done, aren’t you? Well, for starters, I wish I had gone to Key West that time and left my work out to dry! It was before most of y’all knew me–my job selling dishes). As I write this (March 16th, 2020), we are amid a panic as the Corona Covid-19 “crisis” continues. I’m not trying to downplay what has happened in China or Italy by any means, but here in most of mainstream America, we’re not living in densely populated areas…
The short answer is after a good night’s sleep. Just like any of us. So when do I get a good night’s sleep? Well, after a long hike, but one not so strenuous to cause my legs to ache. I sleep well after a few G&Ts. The temperature must be 70 or below, and a fan is required for those hot humid months. I’m not opposed to having a window open on frosty nights. I prefer completely dark, but it’s not necessary. I can even sleep in the presence of strangers. I sleep well when I’ve accomplished all my tasks for the day, like getting all my contracts updated at work. Or getting caught up on blog posts. Or knocking out a book in a day. Much more satisfying than say, binge watching a whole season of Big Little Lies. I fall into a deep sleep when my house is tidy and all the bills are paid. I sleep peacefully on vacation, especially when I’m near the ocean. I learned a while back that tranquilizers have absolutely no effect on me. Best to medicate the old fashioned way. I also cannot sleep if there’s a TV on. All bets are off if it’s a full moon. I could have cleaned my house, paid my bills, balanced my checkbook, shredded mail, driven ten hours, drank a vodka lime, and opened the balcony door…
My stomach turned on this one. If it helped me, was it a mistake? No. I tend to be rash. I am notorious for thinking it and saying it in the same split second. I don’t think about consequences. This is a fault. I recognize this. I’m gonna turn lighthearted because I can’t write about the real mistakes today. Not today. Almost all involve trust and love. Doughnuts. Chinese food. Biscuits. Mountain Dew. Cake. Cupcakes. Butter. French fries. Cheese. Cheeseburgers. Bacon. Mocha lattes. Caramel ice cream. Fried oysters. Fried chicken. Fruity, sugary, alcoholic-y drinks. Chocolate. Pasta. Rolls. Ranch dressing. Barbecue. Cream cheese. Brown sugar. Caramel. All of these things were mistakes that helped me grow…..around…
Ahhh. The one I would normally pick to write about is, “Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes,” but I’ve written about that before. It’s no coincidence that my favorite quote concerns travel. “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” ~ Mark Twain I try to live without regrets or guilt. It’s not always easy. Balancing what is right for me, against what was ingrained in me what is the polite thing to do. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, it’s not easy being a woman in my beloved South. Travel got in my blood early, and I did it right. I never said no when Co-Op presented me with an excursion, flying me to Texas and St. Louis and Las Vegas. I practically lived in a Lance camper for six months, touring the southwest, flying in & out of Salt Lake half a dozen times and to Seattle once. I forwent communication with several friends and family during this time, but for the most part we’ve made peace with it. I was 25, and I would do it all again. And then I traveled alone, because I wasn’t going…
My Grandmother, even though I didn’t realize it until she was gone. Not really. She divorced her cheating lying husband, even though she had a new house to pay for and two kids to bring up. She worked night shift at a factory and still found time to go dancing in her gold shoes. She had her hair done every Friday morning, smoked Marlboros, wore Chanel #5, and caught her granddaughter a toad in the well house. She carried a .38 revolver, glued on false eyelashes every day, and raised Angelfish. She loved fresh long stemmed red roses but always killed houseplants. She cheered for the Vols and the Cowboys and cussed like a sailor when Alabama scored or she dropped food in the floor. She would drink bourbon while canning green beans. She was a registered Democrat that voted Republican most of the time. She nursed her baby brother to health and took care of her mother till the end. She counseled her granddaughter and made her stand up straight and become a well rounded woman through beauty pageants, guitar lessons, and clogging competitions. The only thing I ever knew her to be scared of was snakes. So here’s to all single mothers and dads. I really don’t know how you do it. I can barely feed and raise myself, let alone another human…
Copper Cellar. MMMM-hhhmmmmm. Lorie is the reason for this new destination brunch spot of mine. And it is GLORIOUS. I don’t know how I’ve gone all these years and this place has never come up on my radar. I think the last time I went was 1998. And it was for supper, not brunch. Knoxville may have not even caught on to the whole brunch theme back then. After all, we are the scruffy little city. Anyway. Copper Cellar is a fixture on Kingston Pike. They’ve been there forever, and for good reason. I can’t find a single thing i don’t like about the place. The booths are comfortable, the dining area is cozy, the waiters are all friendly. I like the ambiance in general. It’s usually groups out for something special. For brunch, which i have now enjoyed twice in a month, they offer the following (and I’m sure much more that I never even saw) Belgian waffles with all the fixin’s Fruit Sausage Biscuits Gravy Eggs Sausage links Hash browns Fried potato cakes Spinach mac & cheese (heavenly, and I detest mac & cheese) Omelets to order Sweet potato bites Fried chicken tenders Fajita chicken Chips, guac, salsa, pico, sour cream, black beans Spinach maria Green beans Hash brown casserole Shrimp creole Rice Salad I think I saw lasagna yesterday Some other kind of chicken. Cheesecake Cookies, doughnuts, mini eclairs, all…
I can get enough to eat. I’ve never gone hungry. I might not be able to eat quail and creme brulee every day, but I’ve always got meat and taters. Food is obviously very important to me. It’s also a way I show love. I feel so homey when hosting a dinner party, and I love to be in my kitchen, especially now that I’ve updated the flooring and fridge. It seems like no matter the company, that’s where we gather. The kitchen really is the heart of the home. I cannot stand to think of people or pets going hungry. That’s why nearly every dog or horse I’ve ever owned has been pleasantly plump. Of course, LB passed plump about three years ago…. I miss cooking every day. I can’t hardly stomach leftovers more than once and not everything freezes well. And when I do freeze it, I never think far enough to label it, so I’ve often thawed vegetable soup thinking it was chicken taco soup…or, like last week, chili. That’s always disappointing. And I can’t eat cornbread fast enough to warrant making a whole pan, so now I’ve been without it for some time. I’ve thought about volunteering at the local food ministry, but I have mixed feelings about that. I know that certain programs are misappropriated, and…
