Words for Wednesday ~ Only the Words & IWSG November 225

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over as a moveable feast with many participants supplying the Words.
    When Delores closed her blog forever due to other problems, Elephant's Child (Sue) took over the role of co-ordinator.
    Now, after Sue's demise it is still to be discerned who will take over this role, River is doing it for the rest of 2025, but maybe Lissa will eventually be our new coordinator.

No matter what, how, where or who the aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to our mind.

This month the words are again supplied by Sean Jeating, who thankfully stepped in when our regular supplier was MIA, and can be found at River's blog.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please leave a comment on River's blog, then we can come along and read it and add a few encouraging words.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

We were given these words:
Dog
Night
Bed
Knowledge
Move
    and/or:
Years
Stupid
Help
Craftsmanship
Lost

I might write something later today, maybe it'll be a couple of days ... I don't know. Time and inspiration are both elusive partners.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

November 1 question - When you began writing, what did you imagine your life as a writer would be like? Were you right, or has this experience presented you with some surprises along the way?

My answer - This is a question that has a very  ... strange ... answer. I began  writing even before starting school ;) At that time I imagined myself living in a small, simple  house in the countryside, near the woods, with a big garden, where I worked sowing, weeding, picking etc. during daytime and mostly in the summer. I'd spend the evenings and most of winter spinning, dyeing, weawing baskets, woodcrafting, making syrups and elixirs like an oldfashioned withch, and creating stuff and writing.
This is actually not a far shot from how I live today, but the road to here has been more bumpy than I imagined as a young child, and I'm still not a published writer.