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the metamorphosis from me to ME along the journey |
| Fresh Water Journal/Blog Prompt #3: Reward for Participation “There was an old woman, who lived in a shoe. She had so many children she didn't know what to do. She gave them some broth without any bread. She whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed.” What did she look like? What was her name? How old was she? Why did she live in a shoe? What color was it? Did she have any neighbors? How many children is “so many?” Were they both boys and girls? Why was her thinking limited and she didn’t know what to do? Why did she whip them? Was this a nightly affair? Did they share beds or each have one? On Saturday, August 27th, write about her in a journal/blog entry. It will interesting to see the different takes on this well known person. Your reward for participating in this prompt and on this day will be 233 gift points. ====================================================================================================== My response for 8/27 is running a little late! Sorry! My dear great aunt Hortense lived in a shoe-shaped building (which was originally built for advertising purposes) because it was nicely padded and decorated and she “couldn’t find a NICER space” (her words). It was robin’s egg blue on the outside, with white trim; during its advertising life, I think it was intended to be a trendy tennis shoe. She had 6 kids, 3 boys and 3 girls; she meant to stop at a total of 4, but just couldn’t. Having 6 really overwhelmed her, because they were never in the same school at the same time due to the age spread. When she spoke of whipping them, she was referring to serving them brownies with whipped cream. The broth plus that snack filled them up and consequently, they often went to bed without a nourishing meal under their little belts. There was no bread with the broth because she determined that they were getting enough starch from the brownies. This nursery rhyme actually started as family lore, and became popularized because of its catchy rhythm! Great aunt Hortense was a writer just like me. She had sort of a withered, pinched face; it was hard to tell whether she was smiling or trying not to sneeze or swear. Any of those options was equally likely at any given time! She sneezed a WHOLE lot; her husband used to tease her about having “sneezures”, rhyming with seizures, she made such a racket!  |
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