THE BUTTERLY HOURS by Patty Dann.
I welcome you to join me, if you like! I've divided the prompts by month, and the plan is to respond to 3 (or so) a week. For some of these I may write poems, for others prose. The important thing is to mine my memory. Who knows where this exploration will lead?
For links to the prompts I've written on so far this year, please click on The Butterfly Hours tab above. This month's prompts include: hospital, hotel, humming, ice-skating, illness, kitchen table, knife, laundry, library, lunch.
|Ken Dykes, Sr.|
My father loved a good medium rare steak, so what comes to mind is a steak knife – and the many times I accompanied my father to a restaurant where he ordered steak. One of my favorite memories is when my father asked for ketchup, and the server admonished him with something like, “our steaks are so good, you don't need to ruin them with ketchup.” My father fired right up – a person should be able to enjoy a steak however he or she likes! What he said to me after the server was gone was this: “Doesn't he know sometimes I order steak just to eat ketchup?” :)
Another knife memory: at least twice, I think probably three times, I've had my handy red Swiss army knife confiscated at airport security. It's such a tiny thing, and I keep it for all the other instruments (scissors!) more than the blade. Oh, it hurts every time to have this taken from me! These days I've taken to carrying a small pair of scissors, since I am so bad to forget I have my little knife on me... I'm tired of buying new ones!
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