I attended the Minnesota Blog Conference today, and was happy to attend a session by Kate Hopper on writing. Part of the session was just devoted to writing, and she challenged us to write something evocative about our childhood, so here's what came out of a 7-minute free writing session:
Why do I love summer? Because you say the word "summer" to me and I am instantly back in those neverending summer nights, wearing my pink striped kitty cat shortie pajamas (how can I even remember back so far? those pajamas barely fit Beatrix now) — and it's the middle of the night, and the light glows pink-gold in the upstairs hall, and the night is thick and glorious with sticky warmth. And I never know the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning, but my mother always does, and she scoops me up and brings me down to the basement where the yellowed white radio is set to WCCO radio, always scratchy and slightly off-station. I sit on the cool green squares of concrete, which feels so different from the still-thick air, and am allowed to sort through the divided boxes of shiny bright beads and sequins that live down there waiting for some upcoming craft project. And I don't even realize it but I've fallen asleep on the green wool army blanket, and my mother carries me back up to my still-slightly-stuffy pink and orange room and it's still summer and it always will be.