Wednesday's Words on a Friday

 

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by Elephant's Child and can be found here

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. cold 2. rugmaker 3. guiding 4. Thursday 5. forever 6. both 

and/or: 

1. farm 2. lights 3. club 4. end 5. moth 6. away

Here is my story:

It is a cold Thursday afternoon as I sit typing this, using a list of words provided to me. I’ve just arrived home from the shop and as I locked the door behind me, it began to rain. “Good timing,” I said to myself. When this goes to air tomorrow, I will have lived here in this box I call home for eleven years. The longest time I have lived anywhere.

I remember the day I picked up the keys for a “walk-through” to see if it was acceptable to me. My older daughter was with me and we both agreed it was liveable, although smaller than any place I had ever lived in. She drove me back to the Housing office where I handed back the keys and signed the papers. It would be ready as soon as the painters had been in to “patch up” the walls and trims.

I had counted lights while I was there (4) to be sure I bought enough new light globes since I planned on switching them for a stronger wattage. The end of the week rolled around and I picked up the keys again, with my niece this time. I had intentions of cleaning this flat over the weekend, then moving in on Monday. Niece had other ideas, she had already booked a trailer and with help from another friend, they moved me in that very same day.

After guiding the furniture into what I hoped would be permanent placings, (ha ha) I sent both niece and friend home and set about unpacking. I did the bedroom first, always a must, as I would need somewhere to sleep when the tiredness of moving hit me. With the bed made, I set up kitchen essentials: kettle, toaster, coffee mugs and spoons. I had an esky (portable cooler) filled with things from the fridge and put those back in right away, milk, cheeses, a half dozen eggs.

I sat with a cup of coffee, looking at where my furniture was, knowing that even more things were going to have to be given away to the nearest thrift shop, the kitchen cabinets were, and are still, woefully inadequate. And there was no linen closet! There still isn’t. Where would I put one? To me, this was not home. For me, a home is always a house, preferably a big old farm house, but I would make this box home, with my familiar things around me.

For years I continued to buy lottery tickets whenever I could afford them, but time passed and passed and no big win ever has come my way, so I am resigned to the fact this three-roomed box may now be my forever home. I am used to it now, just as I am used to being restricted. Smaller rooms crowded with necessary furniture means taking smaller steps. No running down a hallway for me anymore.  I had unrolled my favourite old rugs only to find they were too big for my tiny kitchen and too small for the lounge/dining room.

I wondered briefly if I could play rugmaker and stitch together a couple of smaller rugs, but I know myself well, so rolled them back up again and stashed them in the top section of the wardrobe. They’re still there. Probably moth eaten by now, but I don’t care to look and find out. I still hope to join the “millionaires club” some day, but for now enough clothes and food, plus a safe roof over my head will do.