This is week 20 of the Saturday Wordzzle challenge. Anyone new to the process can refer back here to find out how it works. Given the holiday, I don't know how many people will be participating, so I'm posting this early in the totally illogical belief that that will somehow make a difference. Happy 4th everyone.
Given the holiday, I don't know how many people will be participating, so I'm posting this early in the totally illogical belief that that will somehow make a difference. Happy 4th everyone.
The words for this week's ten word challenge were: handy, operation, gratitude, parallel bars, the color purple, manic depressive,
Well, quite a few people expressed concerns about the fate of Abraham Lincoln from last week's post, so, since I can’t leave everyone worrying about him (how could you think he wouldn’t be rescued?!!) here's my ten-word offering for this week.
Abraham Lincoln’s people (sometimes referred to as owners) were somewhat secretive due to the fact that they were both former Olympic athletes – Martin was a gold medalist on the parallel bars and Talia Jane in tumbling and floor exercises. She was noted for always wearing the color purple. He had recently been diagnosed as a manic depressive, but was doing well on his new medication. When they had moved into their beautiful white house on the shores of the Puget Sound, they had felt profound gratitude for the beauty of their surroundings and the peace and privacy afforded to them by their neighbors and their gated community which kept them safe from the prying eyes of the paparazzi. Still their fame had come in handy in persuading the local police force to mount a full scale rescue operation for a cat based on a confused and fragmentary description of the kidnapper and a rather blurry video tape of the aforementioned Mr. Lincoln. Both Martin and Talia had spent the hours following Precious Puddy’s catnapping in a state of perpetual motion, pacing the floors with worry and concern for their beloved and very spoiled kitty child. The local cops were not all that sympathetic about expending so much energy on finding a kidnapped cat and had they not been dealing with two famous and influential athletes, would probably have blown the whole thing off. Luckily for everyone, one of them recognized the voice on the tape as well as a landmark dimly noticeable outside the window in the video tape and the story had a quick and happy ending. Mr. Lincoln was quickly rescued and returned to his palatial digs. Already too pampered for his own good, he none-the-less milked his brush with danger for all it was worth and was lavished with hugs, kisses and lots of treats. Everyone lived happily ever after and Mr. Lincoln lived to a ripe and happy, if somewhat chubby, old age.
And here's my mini challenge:
Marigold was grateful for the sympathetic ear of the mysterious stranger sitting next to her at the diner’s counter. As she dug hungrily into her plate of filet of sole, she rambled on about her frustrations at succeeding in the competitive arena of the music business and about how wrong it was that a normal (well slightly chubby) person like herself was considered elephantine by the industry. “You’re such a good listener,” she said shaking the stranger's hand as she got up to leave. As he had through out the whole encounter, he smiled graciously at her and nodded. Checking out at the cash register, she mentioned to the cashier how kind the gentleman sitting next to her had been and what a good listener he was. “Harry?” the woman grinned back at her. “He’s deaf as a post.” Seeing Marigold blush, she added, “Lots of us tell our troubles to Harry. He really is a good listener. He may not hear the words, but he is present in a way that many who can actually hear aren’t…. and you feel better, don’t you?” “Well, I guess I do,” Marigold laughed. “Life sure is strange sometimes, isn’t it?” "Indeed," the cashier nodded. "Have a great day," they said in unison and both laughed.
And the mega challenge:
Being manic depressive wasn’t easy and over the years, Violet had become extremely secretive about her condition. Surprisingly, most people were not very sympathetic. Some even reacted as though she was dangerous and pulled back from friendship. She had only fragmentary memories of the days before diagnosis and treatment. What she did remember was a sense of frantic, perpetual motion and racing thoughts. She had nothing but gratitude to the mysterious stranger who had apparently found her in a frenzy of activity, surrounded by a dozen paint cans, trying to paint everything in sight the color purple so that she (being Violet) would blend in. He had somehow persuaded her to check herself into the Puget Sound sanitarium where she had not only received treatment and counseling for her bi-polar condition, but also a gastric by-pass operation which had helped bring her body down from it’s formerly elephantine proportions to something much healthier. The mysterious stranger – who was apparently a kind of John Beresford Tipton for crazy people had not only paid to send her to culinary school (she was, it turned out, more than handy in the kitchen) but built and funded a restaurant for her which she had named Sole Music since sea food, particularly filet of sole was her specialty. She had designed the place with parallel bars on the side walls, one serving alcohol, one serving health food and non potent drinks. Today, twenty years later, as she received the Cordon Bleu Award for Culinary Excellence, she gratefully blessed the mysterious stranger who had given her everything and never asked for anything in return, not even a thank you. No one could ever tell her than angels don’t exist. She was watched over by them.
This week's vanity wordzzle used the words: tick, philanthropy, waddle, tennis, “are you going to eat that?”, epidemic, ellipse, symphony, draft, slurp
Mrs. Smith gazed disapprovingly at her daughter. “Are you going to eat that?” “Yes, Mom, I am,” Amanda responded and slurped down several more bites in willful disregard of her mother’s frowning glare. “Yes, and tomorrow, you’ll waddle out to the tennis court complaining about how fat your are! I don’t know why you do it.” Amanda listened to the kitchen clock tick loudly on the wall as she held her breath to swallow the rage which lay shrieking inside of her. In Mrs. Smith’s eyes Amanda’s flaws were epidemic and her criticisms sang eternally in Amanda’s head like an unholy symphony: you’re too fat, too loud, you’re lazy, you’re bad. What will the neighbor’s think? What will the neighbor’s think?” Strangely enough, even though Amanda’s eating habits were one of her mother’s greatest obsessions, Amanda felt increasingly pulled towards food. It provided a kind of strange ellipse - a central point, like the eye of a hurricane - between her mother’s judgment and her own self-hatred. Eating was a kind of perverted philanthropy aimed at putting salve on the wound in her soul. As she stood there choking down her anger and pain, she felt, although she did not recognize the sensation, the cold, deadening draft of her mother’s darkness blow across her, dimming, at least for the moment, the flame of her spirit.
Next Week's Ten Word Challenge will be: gouged, symmetrical, Spanish moss, ATV, parallel parking, Luscious, origami, amphibian, turkey, gravy train
And for the Mini Challenge: pouring rain, mastiff, church bells, wedding dress, stock car races
Thanks for playing. For those who are new, here are some guidelines to make the process more fun.
Enjoy! See you next week.
DON'T FORGET TO ADD YOUR NAME TO MR. LINKY!!!!!