FOWC with Fandango — Culture


It’s September 18, 2022. Welcome to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (U.S.).

Today’s word is “culture.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Please check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. Show them some love.

18 thoughts on “FOWC with Fandango — Culture

  1. donmatthewspoetry September 18, 2022 / 3:39 am


    Our culture is saturated
    With advertising and TV
    Greed for the dollar
    And everything for me me

    I can’t see it changing Fan……

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Rall September 18, 2022 / 5:26 am

    we are culturally
    a million miles apart
    so why are we in love
    with each other
    must be those mischievous
    greek gods at it again

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Cynthia September 18, 2022 / 7:59 am

    Our Culture is our pride.

    Our Culture makes us authentic.

    Our diversity makes us unique.

    When we bring our individual differences with positive energy, we create a beautiful environment for everyone to thrive, regardless of their culture.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Marleen September 18, 2022 / 10:45 pm

    Part of my culture, when my children were little, was making things with apples 🍏 on the tree in our front yard. Apple crisp and apple pie — the crust from scratch — were my favorites. Watching tipsy butterflies in late summer was also fun; though it was the front yard, there wasn’t a problem with leaving apples on the ground until they fermented. This tree had been planted in a perfect spot, directly out from the window over the kitchen sink. The kids climbed it, and often ate directly from it. The same went for a pear tree or two in the back. I never did anything with that fruit. Those were hard pears, but I’ve been informed the neighborhood considered them edible raw. Back to the view from the kitchen window… a blooming tree in the spring. Once, I saw a flock of little birds land and cover all the branches for maybe ten minutes. Lightning struck this tree more than once, until it had finally been too much.


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