Memories of the Past, #FlashFiction #MondayBlogs

The Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction challenge for January 2, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about something found in a hutch. It can be any kind of hutch — a box for critters or a chest for dishes. Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by January 7, 2019.

Fellowsstudio.com

Julia packed the last of the doilies into the bottom drawer of the hutch. She lovingly stroked the top of the sturdy pine chest. This heirloom had been in her family for more generations than she could count. She hated saying goodbye.

She opened a cupboard door and touched great grandmother’s bone china wrapped in cloth for protection. A great feeling of sadness overwhelmed her, and she gulped back her tears.

With one last look at the remains of a life she had to leave behind, Julia stepped from the covered wagon into the heat of a prairie dawn.

Image by Karin Henseler from Pixabay

My ancestors were wheat farmers who came to America in 1906 from Dreispitz, Russia, and settled in Dorrance, Kansas. My grandparents on my dad’s side used to regal me with tales of life on the prairie. My grandmother was Swedish. Her family lived in a sod house when she was growing up. Eventually, after the great depression, my family moved to Milwaukee, Wisconsin where I was born and grew up.

The “hutch” story is a part of American western lore. Thousands of pioneer families left the eastern shores of the United States intending to reach California. They did not understand the hardships they would encounter. The prairie was dotted with the remains of their lives. It the Indians didn’t get them, the lack of planning and inexperience did.

Laura Ingalls Wilder, “Little House on the Prairie,” books were a favorite of mine growing up. Read the real story HERE. This article shares the truth about how harsh life really was.

It is absurd and unfair to hold the child of 1870s frontier life to the standards of 2018. As Fraser so brilliantly elucidates, Wilder’s mythmaking was, in part, a means of coping with her past...”

Maureen Callahan: The Real Story Behind the “Little House on the Prairie” Controversy

“Equality,” A Flash Fiction Memory

January 18, 2018, Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes boots. Whose boots are they, where do they go and what is their significance? Go where the prompt leads.

Respond by January 23, 2018, to be included in the compilation (published January 24). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!

 

Colleen, July 1976, Airman Basic, USAF

The sound was faint, but it was definitely there. The rhythmic stomp of combat boots echoed in my memory transporting me back to basic training in July of 1976. I had wanted to prove that I could do anything that a man could. I achieved it, but things still didn’t change for women.

Forty-two years later, our hats are pink, and our boots come in many colors, but our dreams remain the same. Today, the sound of many boots marching gives me hope. We need equal pay for equal work and no sexual discrimination. Some dreams just never die.

Image credit: USA Today.com

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“The Gales of November,” A Haibun/Haiku

December 7, 2017, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write what features a performance. You can interpret what is a performance any way the prompt leads you.

Respond by December 12, 2017, to be included in the compilation (published December 13). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!

(October 2017 Storm Born Rocks from Michigan – underwater to show the colors)

The Gales of November

I watched from my perch upon the beach as the November gales arrived early this year. North winds filled with an anxious rage howled across Lake Superior. Frothy white-capped waves erupted in a crescendo of deafening sounds, pounding for attention against the agate strewn sands. The spray splashed against my face like tears falling in a sorrowful refrain. Amidst the roiling of the storm, a quiet and gentle acceptance surfaced within me. I acknowledged my loneliness knowing that this too shall change. The show must go on.

Primeval gems–
Storm born, birthed on barren shores,
Remind me of home.

©2017 Colleen M. Chesebro

Image Credit: Lake Superior – Pixabay.com

I love rocks and gems. I have quite a collection. A friend sent me some superb specimens from Michigan. As I ran the water over the pebbles, a Haibun/Haiku formed in my mind. The rocks smelled like home. I grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin not far from Lake Michigan and a long way from Lake Superior where these rocks were born. However, it was the smell that triggered the memory of a place I used to call home.

If you look, you can find inspiration everywhere. The November gales are Mother Nature’s performance of the year.

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Pain & Peace

Ronovan Writes at http://ronovanwrites.wordpress.com/2014/08/25/ronovanwrites-weekly-haiku-prompt-challenge-rewind-7/#like-4383 came up with a great challenge this week.  Our two words are:  Pain and Peace

If you want to refresh yourselves on a bit of Haiku in English, although you do not have to stick to that particular style of Haiku, it’s just my particular style to use, click here.

For Tips and Guidelines refreshers click hereEVERYONE IS WELCOME TO JOIN OUR WEEKLY HAIKU CHALLENGE!  COME ON… TRY IT OUT!

Sorrowful memories –

photographs stuck in time

Old reconciliations.