Writing Pilates

You hear a lot about writing exercises and reading exercises, but with so many ways to tone your body, mind, soul, and writing self which particular exercises are they talking about. I have chosen two for this blog. Writing Pilates and Reading Tai-Bo. So now you know.

My fabulous sister-in-law and I have determined to do synchronized writing exercises on our blogs. Whenever we have tried to write together in the past I have thought up some horrid complicated theme like “Create a protagonist that is both nauseating, cute, and power-hungry all at the same time and make them bake a type of cookie that allows the reader to peek into the inner workings of their rancid yet adorable soul.”

We are done with my ridiculous themes. My sister-in-law is now in charge of themes, and everyone is sure to have 2.5 more years of sanity because of it. So our theme for the week is “Coffee.” She assured me that it can be either ground or whole bean, freeze dried or fresh, already made or sitting silently in the pot, or even on the bush, tree, or flower from whence it came. The only rule is that you must write about coffee.  Be sure to read her coffee exercise here:    http://mamagriffith.blogspot.com/

So please join us in the comments and whip up a paragraph or two about America’s favorite bean-derived drink.

My attempt is as follows:

Coffee

When I think of coffee I think of camp. The first time I slurped that caffeinated beverage, I was a new counselor and more tired than an ant whose hill has just been shuffled through by a class full of three-year-olds. I recall the wee morning hours before our hyper campers awakened. Easing my feet out of my toasty sleeping bag and onto the flattened pile of the “Eagle’s Loft” carpet. Stumbling down two flights of stairs and into the camp kitchen for my favorite squat homemade mug. On to the coffee pot. A full pack of cocoa, then came the coffee, all the way to the top. With mug in hand I’d shuffle out to the smooth pine deck with my old pink quilt and bible for a much needed moment of peace. The steaming mug would warm my hands as the new sun lighted the pages of my Bible and gently warmed my head and shoulders. With my coffee, quilt, and a quiet heart I could face the sunlight. Good times.