I sat down this morning to do a little writing for a friend of mine. A link to the past, and connection to my life in the outdoors – nothing monumental, but I’m not looking for a change of pace. This is just something that fell in my lap, through word of mouth, and as it’s all easy stuff for me to write about – I graciously accepted.
When I write, my head goes off into a million different directions to help me piece together what I’m writing about; making it more authentic and relatable. The key to good writing isn’t writing about what you’re writing about, it’s to keep the reader engaged.
Anyway.
This isn’t a MasterClass…
Let’s move on.
Just now, I trailed off to my Aunt and Uncle’s basement – where we spent many amazing holidays, and random days, relaxing and laughing.
It was thick with nostalgia, even then – when I was a kid. A big finished room – like a second living room, but with so much more. A kitchen, a bathroom – a bedroom behind the bar. And an incredible workshop I was only in a few times in the breadth of my life when I got the chance to be down there.
But where I got stuck – today and as a husky, young explorer of sorts – was on my way down the stairs where there’s a door on the right that leads to some dark room.
I remember there being a red light on in that room and that sent my mind in many different directions – regarding what it could be. A little boy with a big imagination and an aunt who wouldn’t want him snooping around.
The perfect combo for a kid like me…
I may have even opened the door and found out what it was at one point – actually turned on the light and looked around. I think it was a utility closet of some sort, but right now, I can’t remember.
It all makes me think of my Uncle and how I wish he was still here.And now I’m completely off task.
Haha.
Anyway.
Back to pocket saws, tooth patterns, and wandering around in those woods that he told me were filled with black bears..
I never saw one..
But I still believe him.
Tribe Of Flannel 