3. Complete the “Where I’m From” poem. (template here)
I completed this poem in 2011 but still really love the idea that anyone can fill in the blanks of the template and end up with a very different, but equally beautiful story. Click above for the template and take a stab at it! I’ve tweaked and updated mine a bit here:
I am from a homemade cabbage patch kid by a mother with good intentions and short on cash. From Saturday morning cartoons, sips of Tab on hot summer days and matching Easter dresses.
I am from the horseshoe on 17th avenue south, where kids scamper through a private golf course chased by angry golfers, fingers stained with blackberries.
I am from nettles that sting no matter how many cattails and ferns you use to soothe them. I am from gentle swaying Evergreens lining the deep ravine on windy nights that put thinking girls to sleep.
I am from Friday nights at Shakey’s and long lanky bodies. From Lynn and Pete, Henderson and Bouska.
I am from jokes at the dinner table and tickling and laughter. From sisters and brothers who offer strength in numbers. From cousin Laura when school is out, to cousin Matt when school is in. I am from a place surrounded by family, but who I also call friends.
From “Oohhhhh-klahoma every night my honey lamb and I!” and “Many roads lead to Mecca!” From adults who speak in riddles to keep small children from knowing.
I am from red and black plaid jumpers and Catholic hypocrisy. A fight with Jesus before my eighth birthday.
I’m from Bohemian Rhapsody and “THIS IS A SCOTTSMAN’S HOUSE!”, mom’s homemade spaghetti and chocolate frosted cake. Filling my belly to the sound of clanking silverware and piggy grunts…a noise that means they’re watching me.
From the bottle of spilled nail polish that stained mom’s carpet and working together to cover it up, the sound of my sister giggling whenever Mom walked past because Lord knows she wasn’t good at lying.
I am from fat leather photo albums numbered and carefully ordered by a step-dad who loved me despite me. From diaries and scrapbooks and memory boxes filled with ticket stubs and friendship. From a ghetto blaster screaming “strike a pose!” and “beat it!” and fly girl dancing.
From Dad’s blue Nikes and Mom’s eye patch. From parents who loved and gave and sacrificed and raised kids who do the same. A cycle I’m happy to continue.
The Prompts:
1. List 9 Great ways to spend winter break in your city.
2. Book review time! What winter read has you snuggled in and turning pages?
3. Complete the “Where I’m From” poem. (template here)
4. Share your top 12 blog posts from 2018.
5. Share your top 12 photos from 2018.
6. What were you blogging about a year ago? What has changed since then?
Cathy Kennedy says
Kat,
I wanted to complete this poem but my brain wasn’t having any part of it. So, I bailed and opted for the last prompt. You did a fabulous job on your poem. :) Thanks for sharing & hosting!
Kimberly says
This is so wonderful. I adore that your mom made you a home made cabbage patch kid. I remember when those things were so popular. My dad told me that he left work early just to go stand in line for mine. When that movie Jingle All The Way Came out he said, it was almost like that. My dad never really showed much affection for us, but he did do weird things like that that went above and beyond.
OH those fat leather photo albums. I love sifting through them. My husband’s family never took many photos but my parents went wild with pictures and hoarded all the stubs and things.
You did a beautiful job on this Kat. Love all of your memories. The nail polish….just love.
Mama Kat says
Thank you! My mom’s homemade cabbage patch kids were hideous though. We had to pretend to love them, but all of us were pretty disappointed since they weren’t exactly what we had in mind! lol
We used to refer to my step-dad as the “bobarazzi” since he always had his camera in hand. Now I’m so thankful for the pictures we complained about him taking. I’ve been happy to fill those shoes for him.
John Holton says
I started out trying to do this one and had so much trouble, and besides, mine couldn’t have been much better than yours.
Mama Kat says
It’s a tough one, I should link to more examples since it probably is a bit more tricky to fill in when you’re not sure how it’s supposed to read.
Jennifer says
I love your poem!!
Mama Kat says
Thank you!!
Beverly Nickerson says
I loved this mad-lib style poem. It was tough, though and took a lot of thought. I wrote out on paper the things that needed to be filled in to think about it better, then typed it into my blog. Came out okay, for a first try.
Oh, and two the “Here” examples don’t go anywhere. One of them said I wasn’t ‘authorized’ to view it. Just the original and yours linked..
Mama Kat says
Oh it looks like those were links to other bloggers who maybe shut down their sites since then. Sad! I’ll try to find more examples to link to on that page!
Auntie Diane says
I loved your childhood too!
Patty says
Those big, fat, photo albums. Right after I read your post, I went in search of mine. The photo memories are all still there, page after page in different albums marked with the years or events.
And, as time does, any attempt to remove the photos from the albums is fruitless. Years of storage inside plastic sleeves has all the photos permanently stuck inside each page.
And the “Catholic hypocrisy”…boy, did that catch my eye. Fodder for a future blog post, me thinks.
Loved it, Kat!!
Traci says
It only took me a week and half to write my Where I’m From blog post. https://cookingwithtraci.com/2019/01/26/where-im-from/
I thoroughly enjoyed reading yours. I was actually was given a real Cabbage Patch doll which is surprising. She is still in my house somewhere. I also have my sister’s doll. I think mine is naked. Hers is dressed with a diaper. LOL!