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A place for Writing 12 students to read each other's writing, to critique, to suggest, to improve.
About Me
- Brad
- Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
8 comments:
"The Laundry, the Laundry, I'm slowly going insane. If I see another load of laundry; I'm gonna stuff it down the drain" sings Charlotte Diamond, famous children's performer(and former teacher at New West Secondary). Since I'm home the most, I do the laundry. But, I never fold it since I'm not talented in the fine art of folding. For that, my wife is best so, today, I did two loads, dried them and then left them as a gift for her to fold when she gets home!
Another Balcony Story
My husband could have the chance of being a professional Ping Pang player if his eyesight was good enough. But we seldom played it when we were in Beijing—my level was just too low. But since we are the freest couple in Vancouver now, so we almost play it every morning—as long as we can get up before the noon.
Yesterday, we went to the social room and played Ping Pang for an hour and a half. It wasn’t a fun, always—my husband always wanted to coach me—I never listened to him. Plus that day, the contractor was cleaning the drain system outside the social room; the terrible smell just killed me like chemistry weapon.
We went back to our apartment and he smoked in balcony immediately. What a smoker! I opened the balcony door and told him that I was going to pick the Christmas tree’s container. I went to the storage and couldn’t open the door. I’d forgotten the password. I tried all the possible numbers and none of them was correct. Thinking that I shouldn’t waste my time by coming down so I went to the main floor to collect our mails.
After I finished all these, I went home. I opened the door and yelled “hubby….” Nobody in the room!?
“Bang, bang, bang…”
“Open the damn door!” Gee, it was him—I locked him outside in the balcony wearing only short pants and a T-shirt.
“It’s not funny, are you crazy? Don’t know how cold it is?” he surely wanted to seize me by the throat, he thought I was playing with him.
“No, I didn’t mean it,” I explained, “I made it unconsciously and I’m so sorry. You’d take a hot shower and it’ll be fine.”
He looked at me doubtfully and asked “where is the tree container?”
I suddenly became a coward—“I don’t remember the password to open the door.”
He wanted to say something, but just sighed and left for his hot shower.
this is my online notebook, i hope u like it...
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Whenever I do my homework on a laptop, my niece always comes to my bedroom, and ask me "What are you doing, what's that?" That makes me angry, but i can't show my anger to her, if I do she'll cry for sure...
The fire alarm in my home is very sensitive. It will sound if the dishes need more time to fry. Therefore, cooking fish in Chinese style is a tough job. Every time we want to eat fish, listening to the weather forecast is the first thing we need to do. Why? Windy weather is a great asset. Once my mom starts cooking, the windows in the kitchen and living room and the main door will be wide open. More than that, an electric fan will be working toward the fire alarm in the second floor hallway. We do in this way even in winter. As a result, we have to enjoy the delicious fish in a cold room.
I usually sit nearby the window that overlooks a brook and small forest reading book or listening music.
Tasting the fresh green tea, suck up the nutrition from thinking and communicating with the author in mind is a pleasant thing in life.
As I feel tired, I look up to appreciate the scenery outside. From spring to autumn, I can sense the seasons come and seasons go—the snow covered land, the blossom cherries near and the flaming maple forest at far.
Most of time, it is quiet like a painting of living still. Sometimes, It is stormy: wind scudding, dark clouds gathering and the seagulls hovering high to welcome its coming. Suddenly the huge raindrops tap on the window heavily.
It is a routine activity, but it isn’t boring for the every page is new and every day is fresh.
Words: 138
Mist, smog, fog,
Vapour and vampires,
I missed in the amnesia,
Lost the memory of sunshine,
When was the last time I saw the sun?
I am a sunny girl,
Yet still blue and grey.
Our family nickname is Noise. We all try doing different activities at the same time when home. My thirteen year-old niece watches the Family channel and complains when her sister changes channel. My brother watches Guinean music videos on YouTube. My Sister-in-law talks and laughs on the phone and shouts after her toddler when her oldest daughter complains. As for me, I talk on my cell phone, too and read a book after saying goodbye to the caller. no landlord would see our group and accept us as tenants.
Morning and night time at home is my most enjoyable moment; the rest of the day is filled with noise of attention grabber – my daughter.
I love to wake up at dawn, going to the Kitchen for a hot tea, overlooking the silhouette of Pottullo Bridge and Mountain Baker and slow stream of Fraser River with occasional traffic. Everything is so peaceful, half conscious; I love the quietness and calmness that prepare me for the rest of the day that soon will be insane.
Sun rises up from behind the mountain, it is rosy – a kind of romantic color. What a perfect moment in between of light and darkness.
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