About...

What.cha.ma.call.it seemed like the perfect word to sum up my thoughts toward launching my very first blog. According to the Oxford Dictionary, the fifteen letter word can be used to refer to a thing whose name one does not know. The word was something like a blessing as it relieved me of my blog naming stress and blog name generator quest. I happily settled with it because I believe the definition of the word can be used to describe creative works and the way in which they may be “unrecalled”, “unknown”, or “unexposed”. It came as a bit of a shock to me to find out that “whatchamacallit” was not just a colloquial word used in our everyday conversations but a legit dictionary term.

I am a person with many thoughts, perhaps even too many thoughts sometimes. This blog can hopefully be a platform for me to span my wings of creativity and fly. Poems, pictures, inspirational quotes, personal philosophies only begin to describe the diverse material I will post in my blog. There will be a ton of “whatchamacallit moments” so don’t say I didn’t warn you! Enjoy to your own discretion.


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Tuesday, February 25, 2014

October



I close my eyes as I funnel my hands into the deep pile of diverse leaves. The crisp October breeze tightens around my warm wool scarf. The wind motions it to move freely among the pale afternoon. I twirl around my heap of autumn leaves and grasp the chilling yet breath-taking gesture from autumn itself. I reach down to neaten my afternoon’s hard-work as a vibrant leaf taps me on my shoulder.  I look to see what stranger has approached me, surprised to realize that the stranger is no more than a lonely leaf.

Through the knitted rim of my toque, I look at it, observing the unique design and pattern nature creates. The creases near the edges of the leaf fold slightly inwards. It is hard to miss the cardinal red and bronze orange near the corners of the autumn leaf. My numb fingers brush against its thin glossy surface. I stare in awe of the flawless artifact of October. 

Almost abruptly, I hear a familiar voice calling for me, ringing from far away. I pick up my plastic rake and glide across the field of grass with a great deal of fallen leaves scrambled all over it. I can hear a satisfying crunch with every step I take and my long scarf dances behind me to the cool breeze; swaying to the wind’s whistle. I hold my rake by its long handle and every so often, it accidentally bounces off the rough grass. Who knew that such a chore could bring this much enjoyment?

I skip to my country style kitchen and find six full plates of mini pumpkin tarts placed carefully on the butcher block just waiting for me to tackle on. Each tart is decorated with a small design cut out from leftover pastry.
                “Yum, pumpkin tarts,” I think to myself, “but, I need whipped cream to go with it!”
I joyfully gallop to the fridge and find the whipped cream beside the cream cheese near the back. From there, I take my pumpkin tart and whipped cream to the dining table. The aroma quickly melts the chilliness and exhaust of my body.

I take one delightful bite from the tart and sigh- a long sigh in appreciation of such a breath- taking October afternoon.


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