https://promptlings.wordpress.com/2016/01/12/the-sandbox-writing-challenge-22-setting-free-the-captive-parts/

This week’s challenge gets you TWO questions for the price of one, but they are connected. Are you ready? Here goes…
(The image of a house is on the page linked above)
What part of YOU is 
locked inside this house?
`
What can you do to free 
that part of yourself?

That House
My creativity was locked in that house
my passions were stifled in that house
my emotions were battered in the house
my self was shackled in that house
my sleep was tortured in that house
I was trapped in that house.

Locked in that house my creativity
stomped her feet in frustration
Locked in that house my passions
screamed out loud in that house
Locked in that house my emotions
cried on the floors in that house
Locked in that house my tortured sleep
breathed, sighed and moaned in that house
Locked in that house my self
kicked down a door to get out
of that house into the garden.

Freed from that house my creativity
planned a garden each year
Freed from that house my passions
dug new beds each and every year
Freed from that house my emotions
sang as I weeded the flower beds
Freed from that house I
napped peacefully after eating
food and herbs from the gardens
Freed from that house my self
blossomed within the gardens

I grew a new life
away from that house
We have a different life
away from that house
I started new gardens from scratch
away from that house
Barefoot and free
away from that house

*****************************************************************

Wow. I had a visceral reaction to that image.

The house I helped my husband buy
that was to be our family home looks familiar…
It’s eerie how similar that house is
to the one I helped my ex-husband
purchase when I was married. I picked
out the house and did all the legwork
to get the mortgage, inspections and
jumped through hoops to help a non
resident alien purchase a home in America.
He spent most of his time there
ripping the house apart.

I think you get the gist,
I was very unhappy in there

The only way I could escape
while I was there was to garden in
EVERY SQUARE FOOT
SURROUNDING
the house and into the woods.

IMG_4454
I planted an invasive vine
that unintentionally proceeded to
grow through the porch.
(Ah the lure of trumpet vine.
Perhaps it could give my
poison ivy a run for its money.)

Our century home needed complete
renovation on the exterior,
A young growing family
we were poor and struggled
To avoid citations, I was able
to camouflage the house with glorious
plants, food, birds, insects, butterflies,
dragonflies. We were visited by many
animals including a fox, deer, raccoons,
skunks, squirrels and an entire cat colony.

My only safe shelter
from the captivity
in that house
was in the soil
surrounding that house
I grew plants for the deer who lived in
the woods behind our house.
I grew herbs for the family within
I grew flowers for myself
biding the time until
I was able
to accept that
there could never be a
better life in that house.

7 thoughts on “That House (the-sandbox-writing-challenge-22)

  1. biding the time until
    I was able
    to accept that
    there could never be a
    better life in that house.

    OML! MFM that was quite the reaction! It really hit a cord in you. And I could feel it. Especially when you kicked down the door! It explains so much about why you are drawn to gardening now. And it struck me for the first time that although both gardening and metal work use your hands, they are polar opposites on the hard/soft scale. Very interesting. But the little piece I noted above… How many people are struck dub when they come to that place in their life, but instead of escaping, they give in and becoming willing prisoners — or worse, jailers themselves? Wonderful post, girlfriend!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. “they are polar opposites on the hard/soft scale.” You should have seen me garden. 🙂 I used to wield my shovel like an ax to cut through black walnut tree roots. Sometimes I would get the proper tool like an adze or an axe. My drug dealer neighbors feared me. People always used to watch me work when I was in the front yard. If I got frustrated I would dig a trench. That is why I have such a hard time accepting the “I am no longer She-Ra” moments. I am fragile when I used to be an Amazon. I fear that when I try to hammer again I will not have the stamina to raise any forms in soft metal. Copper forming is actually methodical and focused because the metal is softened before you work it, but hitting the metal for hours was soothing. You have to go to the torch to re-heat the metal to work it every so many blows. That is one of the reason I have been working so small. I can heat my pitch and my metal without it affecting my back so much. I do have padded stools with backs now, but I haven’t set up my shop yet. Maybe next summer.

      Like

  2. When I read your descriptions of the yard and surrounds it sounds so lovely. Herbs, flowers, wildlife…… none of it matters if you are not happy in your heart, doesn’t matter how tranquil and beautiful the exterior environment is.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for reading it that way. Perhaps that is why so many people were shocked when I was removed from the house. The view from the outside is all that matters to some. The only people who it should have mattered to were the adults and children inside, but small towns…small minds. It has been almost four years now and I am healing and building a new garden that I can handle in another city.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. another keeper. learn to distinguish between

    unnecessary repetition and powerful pattern-producing

    repetition.

    ________________________________

    Liked by 1 person

Any thoughts on the above post are appreciated! Otherwise, I think I must be living under a rock.

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