Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 217

Boy, did I mess up this week. Besides running late, I forgot to post new words for next week (corrected now) and  think I may have forgotten one or two other things even though I don't know what exactly they are yet.



AS HAS BECOME MY HABIT, I WILL PROBABLY POST MY EXERCISES TOMORROW AFTERNOON. MIGHT TRY LATER BUT AM UNINSPIRED AT THE MOMENT, SO....

SATURDAY 7:15 PM: MY APOLOGIES... A bit under the weather today. Will try to post tomorrow.

SUNDAY, 6:30 PM.  FINALLY done. Now I have to feed Tara Grace who is apparently starving. 



Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:  holding, retrospect, sniffles, ice, stepped in, falling off a cliff, grab, lavender, breakfast, after-life   And for the mini:  chewing, magnetic, how much is that doggie in the window, more or less, shaving

My mega: 

Chewing on her lip and holding back sniffles Amanda sat at the breakfast table more or less transported back in time by the song that was playing on the radio. How Much is that Doggie in the Window was a long-standing family joke of sorts. She had never had much faith in the idea of an after-life, but she could not help feeling like this was a message from her mother, who had died three weeks earlier. In retrospect, when she described it to her husband and her brother later that day, she explained that she had felt emotionally like she was both falling off a cliff and floating at the same time. The thing that had really grabbed her attention, she had told them, was that she could swear she had smelled lavender. "Mother always wore lavender," she said. "Funny, her brother said, "I thought I smelled lavender when I was driving to work this morning. Do you really think it might have been Mom? Wow." "I do, Joey, I do." she replied, not failing to notice as she spoke that her husband - who was at the sink shaving ice for their drinks - mad one what she thought of as his "I stepped in shit" faces. Stan was not just a skeptical of all things spiritual, he was scornful about them. "Get your imaginations under control, you two. The dead are dead. Gone. Dead. Mother Maggie is not visiting." As he made this pompous pronouncement, the magnetic refrigerator decoration that said "World's Best Mom," flew across the room, hitting him squarely on the forehead. "You were saying, dear?" Amanda said laughing. A bit shaken, Stan, looked unhappily at his wife and then with a laugh spoke to the air, "Subtle as always, Mother A.That hurt."


The mini:

The large shaggy creature chewing on what looked like some kind of doll, seemed to hold some kind of magnetic sway over Pam's emotions. She felt more or less compelled to go into the shop even though a dog was the last thing she needed, especially a LARGE, and VERY furry dog. Still, in she went. "How much is that doggie in the window," she asked the pimply young clerk who appeared to have cut himself several times while shaving. "The one in the window? You're interested in him? Don't tell the owner I said so, but I think he'd give that dog to you if you play your cards right. But you might want to think twice about taking him. That dog is - well - kind of different." Even with such a blunt warning and even though she did not really have room in her life for a dog, she seemed impelled to take Max - that was what he seemed to be saying his name was - home. She couldn't explain to anyone, herself included, but Max felt "familiar" to her, like they belonged together or like they had been together before. "Crazy," she whispered to herself. But it wasn't as she would learn over the coming weeks and months. Strange, but not crazy.


And the 10-word: 

Panic written all over her face, Lavender LaGriff grabbed her boy friend's arm and continued holding on for dear life as her feet slid out from under her on the ice of the rink. She felt like she was falling off a cliff and would soon be extracting revenge from the after life. Jimmy had caught her off guard while she was eating breakfast and still half asleep. Why had her mother not stepped in to stop her? "Lavender can't go ice skating," she could have said, "she has the sniffles and I don't want her getting sicker." But mother had not done any such thing. In fact she had encouraged it. In retrospect, three hours later, skimming over the ice, she was grateful for her mother's wisdom. Skating was FUN. Who knew!


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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  gargantuan, Alice doesn't live here any more, gas, paper clips, speak, advice, state, ginger, spray, important

And for the mini:  hamburger, ostrich, vinegar, perpendicular, frozen

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 216

Late again. Absorbed in politics. Too absorbed. Will probably post my exercises tomorrow. 

6:00 PM - Finally posting. Guess I'm back to being the Lone Wordzzler again. 


Words for this week's 10-word challenge were: convention, top, case, bells, frolicking, organic, vice, listening, drenched, distinction   And for the mini:  outrage, ham and cheese, on the road, chief, immediately


My mega:

Vice President Samantha McGrath quietly savored the delicious ham and cheese omelet which had been brought to her hotel room a few minutes earlier by a lovely young woman who had compensated for the unfortunate distinction of being drenched in some awful perfume, by immediately telling her that she hoped that in another 4 years she could vote for Samantha to be the first female commander in chief. It was a good start to the day. Samantha enjoyed being on the road. Although, she relished the bells and whistles of high office, sometimes the environment of the White House was too stifling and insulated. Being a heart-beat away from the top job in the world was a mix of frustrating, daunting and inspiring. Timothy Hawks - besides being a great man and president - treated her as a true partner. He believed, he had told her, that someone who might one day have to fill his shoes (you never knew, he said), ought to have some idea about how to walk in them. And he had added, he valued both her wisdom and her common sense. He knew, he had told her, that there was a chance he might not live to see the end of his term. Even the mid-21st century, the threats were very real. She wondered if people would ever learn. She felt genuine outrage at the things that were said about him by the opposition. They played on the bigotry of those who - now that they had a gay president - looked back with longing to the days when they were upset about a black one. They accused him of frolicking around the White House and insisted that his sexuality was a threat to national security. One of them had even made the case that he should be impeached for immorality.  But despite all this, she loved politics; it was an organic part of her, like breathing or thinking. The big conventions were soul-nourishing for her. She loved listening to the speeches and talking to citizens from all over the nation, hearing their hopes and concerns. She loved making a difference in this world. Life was good, she thought, and getting better.


My mini:

Miranda's chief outrage while she was on the road was the difficulty of finding decent places to eat. The last time the band had done a concert tour she had been forced to virtually live on ham and cheese sandwiches. She had fired their manager at the end of that trip and had immediately informed his replacement that the longevity of her job would be contingent on her ability to provide real sustenance and NO... not even one... ham and cheese sandwiches. It turned out that in her previous life, Sandra has worked as a chef and could prepare a meal fit for angels. The other band members - who had mocked her obsession with food - were now willing to admit the error of their previous derision. It seemed to all of them like Sandra's food had magic in it. They had more energy, they were getting along better, they were all bursting with creative ideas - and best of all, perhaps - their performances were better. They felt it and so did the audiences. Concerts which had been doing reasonably well in the old days were now booked solid and their CDs were selling like hot cakes. Delicious, nutritious hot cakes, they added, laughing. Samantha was happy too, both for the appreciation of her skills and for the generous raise they had given her along with that gratitude. Not only that, they were going to call their next CD Soul Food Sandy. How cool was that!


My 10-word:

Frolicking across a grassy meadow drenched in dew might not be strictly conventional behavior for a top criminal lawyer, but George had never been in love before. He had taken Molly's case as a favor to his aunt Susan. It was something about whether the organic farm where she was buying her eggs was really organic or something like that. He didn't really quite understand the distinction, to be honest. Quite a change from dealing with prostitutes and the vice squad. He could not believe he had fallen so hard. She was so smart and so pretty and listening to her voice was like... like that song from The Music man about bells on the hill and never hearing them ringing.... Back in the house, Aunt Susan poked her sister in the ribs with a big grin on her face. "Didn't I tell you she was perfect for him? I love it when I'm right."

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  holding, retrospect, sniffles, ice, stepped in, falling off a cliff, grab, lavender, breakfast, after-life

And for the mini:  chewing, magnetic, how much is that doggie in the window, more or less, shaving

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 215

Well, I'm late and going to post my wordzzles tomorrow, but it was fun to not be the only player last week. Mabye we are making a come-back.



Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:   key, why, balance of power, the motor is running, yesterday, creaky chair, steel, hook, longing, pretzel   And for the mini:  oxen, merchandise, comfort zone, plastic bottle  (Just realized we are a word short on the mini this week, so it's a mini mini, I guess. Sorry.)

4:00 pm.  Finally done. Sorry about being a word short. Well, not really, I had a tough enough time with 14 words...

My mega:

Sitting in her creaky chair at her beat up old desk sipping water from a re-used plastic bottle, Samantha Steel was in her comfort zone. Well, that might be something of a stretch. Samantha didn't actually HAVE a comfort zone. She sometimes ached with longing for those distant yesterdays when the balance of power in her head had tilted towards normalcy. She had spent years trying to find the hook, the key to why her emotional wiring had gone askew, but the answer - and thus a solution - continued to elude her. Eventually, when it because clear that there would be no untwisting of the pretzel of misfiring axions in her brain, no matter how hard she worked at it, she decided to make what peace she could with the person she had become. At least at least the motor is running, she would tell herself, at least I'm alive. Today, though, looking over the merchandise in some new catalog that had come in the mail, she was taken back in time to happier days and fond memories of sitting with friends at the Four Oxen Bar and Grill in lower Manhattan. It would pass, she knew, but just for these few moments she felt rather sorry for herself. Then, with a deep sigh and a shake of her head, she shook it off. At least I have memories and many other blessings. "It is what it is," she said out loud. And then added. "Thank you for everything. I have no complaints whatsoever."


My mini:

Miranda Masters found herself deeply offended by the merchandise offered in the new Comfort Zone Living catalog. "What genius came up with the concept of designer plastic bottles," she muttered angrily. "They cut down trees to market this junk to pretentious fools and then put a picture of oxen on the cover and pretend they are trying to make a better world." Calling her assistant into her office, she handed the catalog over to her and said, "Another one, Margaret. See what you can find out about how much money actually goes to third world countries and how much goes into the pockets of a few greedy crooks. I have a feeling about this one. Lets see if we can put them out of business... or at least make sure they are forced to send the money people waste on this junk to the people the say they are serving.


And my 10-word:  the motor is running,  pretzel 

Jane Hook, her voice quavering with aggravation addressed her husband. "Francis Hook, husband and love of my life, please do something about that creaky chair before I'm forced to take matters into my own hands. That squeaking noise drives me crazy. Fix it or find it gone. That is my warning." "Yes, dear," her husband muttered, although it was clear he was not paying any attention to her words. "Information is the key," he muttered,  "but even though Obama is a great communicator, somehow the word fails to get out there. It gets drowned out in the sea of Republican double-speak Clinton's speech yesterday was brilliant and just deepens my longing for more real information Why can't we have more of that? Why doesn't he get credit for anything? Biden is right when he says the man has a spine of steel. He's also got a brilliant mind and a big heart. I don't know why there is so little recognition of his heart.... just because he doesn't put on a big show about it, I guess. This society is a mess. We are on the brink. We simply have to re-elect him. We are doomed if..."  Kissing the top of her husband's head, Jane Hook, took him by the hand. "You need to think about something else for a while or you'll make yourself sick. I've packed a picnic lunch and the motor is running in the garage. I know that's wicked, darling. I did it because I knew it would have the power to distract your attention from politics. Humor me. Let's go have a picnic, and then maybe stop by the mall for warm pretzel and a new chair for your desk... Oh... and put our Obama bumper sticker on the car.... and got a hundred more for us to pass out on our travels." "You're a good woman, Jane. Let's go pass out some bumper stickers!" "And buy a new chair," his wife reminded him with a smile.

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  convention, top, case, bells, frolicking, organic, vice, listening, drenched, distinction

And for the mini:  outrage, ham and cheese, on the road, chief, immediately

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 214

There are rumors afoot that I will not be the only wordzzler this week, which makes me even more apologetic for posting a couple of hours later than normal. I was thinking I'd try to do my exercises this evening, but since I'm trying not to fall asleep as I type this, I guess they will wait until tomorrow.

I'm not the Lone Wordzzler this week! Yee ha!  I am however the sucky wordzzler. I am just dragging through the process. Have a ten-word done but it's lame and am having to fight to go on. Helps to have the incentive of being able to read what someone else has written when I'm done to spur me on.  

3:45 - I have everything I wrote today. So it goes. The last piece it isn't autobiographical, by the way... just sort of incoherent.

Words for this week's 10-word challenge were: vocalize, vandal, virtue, visitor, vim and vigor, vermillion, vague, vacuous, vines, validate  And for the mini:  voodoo, vixen, veracity, valid, vital

My mega:

Virtually every visitor to Veronica Vixen's Vermillion Vines Spa and Resort came away raving about the place. You could hardly stop them from vocalizing the praises of their hostess and the wonders of the hospitality. "I arrived at Vermillion Vines dispirited, with vague and vacuous feelings of ennui. It was as though some vandal had stolen my passion for life. A week of Veronica Vixen's mix of good food, relaxation and exercise and I am a new woman. I feel vital again, full of vim and vigor. My enthusiasm for life has been renewed. Some competitors questioned the validity and veracity of these testimonials, coming, as they did from a half dozen blond bomb-shells whose ages ranged between 25 and 30.  Others accused her of engaging in some kind of voodoo and demanded that some of these former guests validate their claims. The truth of the matter - using that term somewhat loosely - is that although the testimonials were something of a scam (six of  her daughter's colleagues in the fashion business had been given a free week in payment for speaking well of the place), the virtues they ascribed to Vermillion Vines were quite real. Lucky for Veronica, the negative attention of the controversy was quickly eclipsed by the true magic of her hospitality and the peaceful beauty - the vermillion vines were real - of the land on which the Spa was situated.  


My mini:

When the evil witch had turned her into a vixen using some kind of magical voodoo, Princess Veracity originally felt it was the worst possible thing that could happen. To her amazement, however, although the life of a fox was not easy by any means, she had never felt so vital and alive as she did in her current form. Not that she didn't hope to be returned to her human state, she very much hoped to be restored to human form and to be married to Prince Hubert. None-the-less, she felt it was a valid statement to say that the past four months living as a fox had been some of the best times of her life. That said, she was ready to go home, have a hot bath, a good meal and plan her wedding. Even if it was good in the short term, the virtue of living as a fox had it's limits and they were just about up, particularly since hunting season was approaching and she did not fancy that there would be any upside at all to experiencing the fox-side of a hunt. Nope. She was ready to go home.


And the 10-word:   

Now that I am reaching antiquity, I am waiting for the promised virtues of old age to start materializing. I thought being old was supposed to make me wiser. Instead, I find I am often somewhat vague and vacuous in my thoughts. My vim and vigor is vacationing somewhere with some young person. And the blows to my vanity are awful! Blood vessels that look like thick vines now decorate my legs. The thick vermillion hair that made me so proud has turned to a dull gray.... and it's THIN. I, alas, am not thin. I feel like a visitor in this body that used to be my friend. So I'm here today to vocalize what others won't tell you. Age is a vandal that never stops stealing from you. I won't say it's all bad - there are some freedoms that come with falling apart - but I refuse to validate the myth that was passed down to me about how awesome it is to get old. It was a con job. That said, it beats being dead... at least so far. So here's my advice. Enjoy your youth. Bask in it. Savor each minute of each day. And keep doing that every day because if you come to old age that way, you won't be disappointed because you will know how to live one what is and not on empty promises. Or that's what I think.

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  key, why, balance of power, the motor is running, yesterday, creaky chair, steel, hook, longing, pretzel

And for the mini:  oxen, merchandise, comfort zone, plastic bottles

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 213

The Lone Wordzzler here posting late, though there is some hope that this week I may not be an only wordzzler. Yippee!  That said, I'm going to post my exercises tomorrow.  

Sunday 4:30 pm.  Finally did my exercises. They are very saccharine and goodie-goodie today. Sorry. 


Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:   enough, superstition, matches, camera, fortitude, space, turtle, pillow, adversity, we're doing everything we can    And for the mini:  paper bag,  hurt, creation, gloves, wanderlust

My mega:

Looking around at the mass of people crowded into the huge space of the coliseum, Jennifer Jackson wondered where in creation she had put her camera. She hoped she had not forgotten it in the house. She could, she guessed, take pictures with her cell phone, but she preferred a real camera. She wondered to herself if one pillow, four paper bags of random items and clothing and her turtle Wanderlust were going to be all that remained of her earthly goods or if somehow the firemen would be able to save her home and that of her neighbors. She was awed, not just by the courage and fortitude of those around her, but by their generosity of spirit. In the face of this terrible adversity, she watched neighbors comforting neighbors and strangers reaching out to tend to small and large hurts of their fellow refugees from the conflagration. "We're doing everything we can," the rescuers and firemen had told them, but would it be enough?  Still looking through the bags for her camera, she had to laugh at some of the things she had packed.  It was August - and an especially hot one, but she had packed a wool scarf and gloves. What had she been thinking, she wondered.... and then realized that she had not been thinking, just panicking.  Behind her a voice was whispering... "I heard that they are saying the fire was started by a 10-year old playing with matches..." The conversation continued, turning into an argument about parenting and punishment and she lost interest.  To her relief, she found that she had packed her beloved camera. Photography calmed her spirit. She could not control her situation, but she could document it, seal it in memory and try to document the pain and beauty in the faces around her. She focused first on a small group circled in prayer. As a rule, she considered religion to be a from of superstition, yet here in this place she saw another aspect of it... the power of community.  She circulated among her fellow refugees asking permission to take their photos and became so absorbed in the task that she was almost disappointed when, two days later they fires were out and they were all allowed to return home. She was among the more fortunate. Her home had been untouched by flames. A year later, when her photo record of the event was published as a book and soared to the top of the best seller list, she donated half of the proceeds to helping those who had lost the most recover their homes.


My mini:

Sitting with his paper cup on the cold sidewalks of New York, Jesse Marsh wished he had been able to foresee where the wanderlust of his younger years would lead him. His gloves were worn and full of holes and his hands and fingers hurt from the bitter cold. Everything he owned in the world fit into two large paper bags. It had not been a terrible day, though. When it was this cold, passers-by tended to be more generous, so he had collected a bit of money. A couple of people had even brought him coffee and one kind woman - my name is Julia, she had told him - had brought him a big mug of hot soup, the best meal he had eaten in many months. She had also brought him a warm coat (she apologized because she didn't have any gloves) and told him that he could find shelter if he so desired at the King of Creation Tabernacle on 112th Street. Despite his fear of such places, there was something about her kindness that tempted him to check the place out.  For one thing, besides being kind, she had been very, very pretty.... and the soup.... well, it had been Heavenly.


And my 10-word:

The long trek up to 112th Street stretched Jesse's strength and fortitude to their limits. He felt like a turtle inching slowly forward against heavy winds. At the same time, though, he felt as though he was being guided. He wanted to say by angels, but  that seemed too much like superstition, so he chose instead to convince himself that he was being pulled by lust. He felt more comfortable with that. He wasn't going to let adversity turn him into some kind of god freak, no way, not him. When he arrived at the King of Creation Tabernacle, he found a space that was nothing like what he expected. Instead of one huge room full of cots or dirty mattresses on the floor, there were 2 small rooms, each with six real beds (with sheets and pillows and blankets!)  Next to each bed was small bed table (with a lock and key on it) containing a set of clean towels. In one corner there was a box full of pajamas and an assortment of clean clothing with a sign above that said, "take what you need."  The bathroom was spotlessly clean and had a shower stall and soap and shampoo. The beautiful Julia - who had greeted him with the word, "you came!" as though he were a long lost friend, had shown him to his room with the words, "once you have cleaned up, please join us for dinner." The aromas from the kitchen, seemed to erase his exhaustion and he was torn between hunger and a desire to savor the joy of the first shower he had had in months.  Hunger won on this first night.  As if a bed and a shower and clean clothing was not enough of a miracle for one day,  he entered a kitchen that was radiant with heat and a large table with rolls and soups and what seemed to him like a feast fit for a king. Around the table were 11 others like himself.  Like Julia, each introduced himself and welcomed Jesse like a family member coming home. To his amazement, that's what he felt like. He felt like he had come home. He knew that he never wanted to leave. On the wall was a sign that read, "We're doing everything we can."  "What does that sign mean," he asked as they all tucked into a dessert (dessert!) of apple pie and ice cream. "For me, it's a reminder to keep trying, to never give up,' Julia replied. "And hopefully it's an inspiration for others as well," she added.  "Would you like a job," she asked. I think we can find something for you if you are willing to make the effort." Which is how he ended up running errands for photographer, Joseph Angel, who saw him looking with hungry eyes at one of his cameras. "You can't have that one," he said, "but why don't you explore with this digital. I appreciate all the help you've given me... and I've watched you looking at my work. You have a good eye, so let's see if your talent matches your enthusiasm. This little digital can take 500 pictures. Spend the next three days exploring and let me see what you can do." As it turned out, Jesse had an artist's eye.  Seeing what he did, Mr. Angel took him on as an apprentice and in remarkably little time - fostered by his mentor - Jesse's was soon selling for sizeable sums of money. Like any good fairy tale, he married Julia and helped her continue to run her Tabernacle, where their love and generosity turned many lives around. Even their failures were not really failures. As Julia liked to say, "Love never fails. Whatever their choice, they had a few nights or weeks of good food and companionship and that is the greatest wealth there is." When he opened his own studio, Jesse called it "Two Angels Photography." I think you can guess why.

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  vocalize, vandal, virtue, visitor, vim and vigor, vermillion, vague, vacuous, vines, validate 

And for the mini:  voodoo, vixen, veracity, valid, vital

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge #212

The Lone Wordzzler here.  I'm just not in the mood to do this tonight, so I think I'll post it and do my exercises tomorrow. Had it all set up to post and forgot to do it. That kind of a day. Sigh.  

UPDATE:  OK... I'll do them on Sunday. Promise. Sorry. Just couldn't get myself going today.

Sunday 4:45.  Ok. I wrote some stuff. Not at all happy with it. Apologies to my 2 readers for posting so late. 

Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:  August, amphibian, artist, artichoke, amber, apple, aggravation, ample, action, alligator   And for the mini: big shot, bargain, baloney, boring, battering ram

My mega: 

August "Alligator" Ample had thought being a big-shot artist would make him happy, but instead he was finding it fraught with aggravation. Everyone wanted him to continue with his "Amber Collection," but how many amber apples, artichokes, and pineapples could one paint before finding it unbearable. He had tried shifting to pork chops and baloney in hopes of finding some relief, but all anyone wanted were those stupid fruits and vegetables. Had he known that his bargain with the devil included this kind of boring repetition, he might have thought twice before agreeing to fame at any price. He felt like there was a battering ram in his head that would not stop pounding, felt like he might die of misery. When his alarm clock went off, as he woke from his nightmare, the voice of his guardian angel whispered in his ear. Remember this dream before you take any actions today. You have been warned and now the choice is yours. 


My mini:

As the battering ram pounded against the castle gates, King Marcus found himself longing for simpler times. He had always thought his father's boring lectures about the weight of the crown were a lot of baloney, but now he wished he had paid more attention. It seemed his father had been right. Being king was not just about being a big shot, it involved responsibility and respect was not automatic. He wondered if maybe there was a chance that it was not too late to reform his ways. Maybe he could find a way to strike a bargain with the rebels and restore peace to his kingdom. Turning to the Lord Chancellor, he said, "Under flag of truce, please seek to see if the leader of these rebels will take counsel with me. Whatever the outcome of out talk, I guarantee his safety. Tell them this. "The King wishes to apologize. Your rebellion has forced him to look at his own actions and he requests that you take counsel with him to see if we can find a peaceful way to restore the Kingdom. He has given you little reason to trust his word, but he hopes, even so, that you will hear the truth of these words and the depth and sincerity of his regret and meet with him." To his profound gratitude and the good fortune of the kingdom, although they did not trust King Marcus, they did trust his Lord Chancellor. The rest is history. Over the next 70 years, King Marcus became as fine a ruler as any Kingdom could ask for. 


My 10-word:

It was August. The weather in Florida was miserable. There were alligators in the back yard. The mosquitoes were so thick they buzzed like dark clouds on the horizon.  Her aptly named dog, Action, seemed bent on causing unending aggravation. In spite of all this, business at the Amber Amphibian Cafe could not have been better, because Lucinda Largo was not just a cook, not even "just" a chef, she was an artist in the kitchen. The meals she prepared were love on a plate and people left her little Cafe changed by the experience. Whether it was her artichoke souffle, her salmon casserole, an ample slice of her apple and rhubarb pie, or any of a host of other dishes, those who ate at Lucinda's table received nourishment for the soul as well as the body.... even in August with its annoyances and aggravations. Or maybe especially then. 

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  enough, superstition, matches, camera, fortitude, space, turtle, pillow, adversity, we're doing everything we can 

And for the mini:  paper bag,  hurt, creation, gloves, wanderlust

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge #211

OK... I guess my break is over and I'll give wordzzles another try, though I don't know how much longer I want to sustain being the one and only wordzzler.  After almost a year of telling the Paragon of Virtue's story, I will have to rediscover how to do random paragraphs. I have written stuff. Not that thrilled with it. I do kind of like the mini, but the first one needs work that I'm too lazy to do. Sorry. 

Words for this week's 10-word challenge were:  existence, imagination, ferocious, dripping, ribbon, aging, operation, seven, art, entrance  And for the mini:  sweltering, distinguished, discomfort, spread, blossom


My mega:  

Sitting in the sweltering school gymnasium - which at the present moment was functioning as an art gallery for the state's annual FUTURE ARTISTS competition - seven-year-old Amanda Blossom squirmed with discomfort that was a mix of boredom, dripping persperation and anxiety.  The sudden hush which spread through the crowd's chatter announced the entrance of the panel of distinguished judges who would be reviewing the paintings and selecting this year's winners. Amanda's parents - one sitting on each side of her - each grasped a hand and watched anxiously as the judges made their rounds.  An eclectic group of artists and critics, the judging panel was headed by an aging sculptor known for his passionate opinions. When they arrived in front of Amanda's painting, he gasped and said in a loud voice, "EXQUISITE! Such craft! Such imagination! Such use of color! Who is the artist? Bring him to me!"  As Amanda and her parents came forward, his beaming smile turned to a frown and he declared with a ferocious snarl, "Nonsense. No child that young could have painted such a complex work." "But I did paint it," Amanda said with a ferocity that matched the old man's. "I did. And I have more. I like to paint and you're mean." Taken aback, the old man's face softened a bit. "Alright then, young lady, tell me about your painting. What made you choose these colors?  And this," he said, pointing to a ribbon of green paint in one corner of the canvas, "why did you put that there?" "It's hard to explain," the child replied, "It's as close as I could come to what the Angel's showed me during my operation. They kept me company, you know, while the doctors fixed my heart. They were so kind and beautiful. I couldn't really get it right, but this was the best I could do."  A tear running down his cheek, the old man, knelt down and looked into the girls eyes. "I apologize, my dear. It is clear that this is your own work. I too met those angels many years ago but until today had been persuaded to doubt their existence. Thank you for giving me back that faith. Your talent is remarkable. I don't know about my fellow judges here, but in my book you are the winner. I wonder... would you be willing to sell me this painting?" Looking at her parents, he whispered, "I imagine you have some medical bills that need payment. I would consider whatever payments you have left to be an acceptable price." Amanda smiled. "That would be very nice, I think. Thank you, sir." 


My mini: 

Alfonso Ambergris, did not mind the sweltering heat, the mosquitoes or the dangerous snakes and spiders all around him. A huge euphoric grin had spread across his face and the pain and discomfort of his aching muscles dropped away as he distinguished first the tell-tale aroma and then the unique color of the blossom he had come seeking.  He had found the legendary Aztec Orchid and it was as beautiful as the stories had led him to believe. Whether or not it would bring him eternal life, he did not know, but surely it would bring him fame and fortune, which was almost as good.


And the 10-word:  

Although aging had not diminished the existence of Augusta's ferocious imagination, three strokes and seven operations had hampered her ability to transfer her art - her vision - from her brain to the canvas, as evidenced by the dripping ribbons of paint on her clothing, the floor and the canvas itself. But Augusta was a survivor and a woman of boundless creativity. Aggravated at first by the unwanted drips and drops, she eventually became entranced by the challenge of how to use them to her advantage. Inspiration did not come as quickly at 80 as it had when she was in her 20s, but eventually the Eureka moment came and her new style was born. What had begun as "accidental" paintings, tweaked and nurtured and crafted by her loving eye, eventually became some of her best and most famous works. Always loving a good pun, she called them the "Strokes of Genius" collection. And they were just that.

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  August, amphibian, artist, artichoke, amber, apple, aggravation, ample, action, alligator

And for the mini: big shot, bargain, baloney, boring, battering ram

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 209

And the story of the Paragon of Virtue is winding down. Today's installment - # 49 - may be the final one or... In any case, there won't be too many more.  Much as I have whined about doing this story for 49 weeks now, it feels odd to have it coming to a close.  Guess I just like to complain.

Once again, I'll post my  exercises in the morning. Going to set this up to post and go take a much needed nap this afternoon. 


5:50 Saturday.  Ok. Finally posting this week's exercises. The story of the Paragon of Virtue is not quite ready to lay itself to rest, I guess. But soon. 


Here are links to the previous episodes.  If you need/want to catch up, click here for the 1st installment, 2nd installment, 3rd installment, 4th installment, 5th installment, 6th installment, 7th installment., 8th installment, 9th installment, 10th installment, 11th installment, 12th installment, 13th installment, 14th installment, 15th installment, 16th installment, 17th installment, 18th installment, 19th installment. 20th installment, 21st installment, 22nd installment, 23rd installment, 24th installment, 25th installment, 26th installment, 27th installment, 28th installment, 29th installment, 30th installment, 31st installment, 32nd installment, 33rd installment, 34th installment, 35th installment, 36th installment, 37th installment , 38th installment, 39th installment, 40th installment, 41st installment, 42nd installment, 43rd Installment, 44th installment, 45th installment, 46th installment, 47th installment, 48th installment...

Words for this week's 10 word challenge:  difference, flamboyant, over-heated, stone wall, radiate, spider web, chord, sign, error, pop   And for the mini: tired, shadows, baggage, fabric, roll




My mega: 


"It's a sign," the painter exclaimed with flamboyant and somewhat overheated drama. "A new life for a new time. The shadows and evils of the past are rolling away and...."  "Painter Perfidy," Bubbles interrupted. "While I appreciate your poetic words, this baby is not going to just pop out of me without some help, nor is it going to wait for a more convenient time to... owwwwww.... enter this world. All of you, please radiate as much joy as you wish for my happy miracle at some other time. For the moment I need HELP. NOW!"  Her words - or perhaps her tone - clearly struck a chord with the tired heroes. Their weariness seemed to drop from them as each moved with purpose to perform one task or another in preparation for the new life that was about to arrive.  With a flick of his want, Wizard Spark, converted what had recently been a table into a bed. The Paragon, happy to practice his skills for a joyful purpose, magicked up several rolls of soft and beautiful fabric with which to cushion Bubbles on the bed and for wrapping the baby when he or she was born. "It is said to be made of thousands of spider webs, so soft that when you rest on it you can feel no pain. I read about it some time ago. It is highly recommended for pregnant mothers. I hope it will make you more comfortable." he stuttered, feeling suddenly a bit embarrassed.  "Be not embarrassed, Paragon. You have made no error with this choice," Lady Purist came to his rescue, "When I gave birth to my son, I was blessed to rest on just such material. The bed that had felt like a bed of nails seconds earlier became like a cloud." Turning to Bubbles, she clasped her hand and said with a smile, "not that it was painless, but the difference was palpable and much appreciated. "You are going to be fine, my dear." I can see that you are strong in body, mind and spirit. Looking at your beautiful face, I believe I see a reflection of your mother in your eyes. You lived in the house with beautiful stone wall and the giant oak tree. Just at the edge of the forest, did you not? Your mother was one of the kindest souls in the realm and often let me drop the heavy baggage of my sorrow and loneliness on her strong shoulders. "I remember your visits," Bubbles answered with a smile. We all loved you and were honored to ease what suffering it was in our power to do. We - my people - are dragon whisperers. Although we failed you Lady, it was not for lack of love and effort."

The mini:

"Failed me?" Laughter rolled out of Amanda Purist like music. "Child, that is false baggage that you must put away forever. Though they could not see clearly the whole fabric that was being woven - my husband was a magician of great skill - your parents saw the shadows of what was to come and did all in their power to prepare and protect me. Their kind hearts and love lifted my spirits when I was most tired and afraid. And there are skills they taught and protections they wrought, that protected me from the worst, helped me to stay sane and to know with every fiber of my being that hope was not a foolish fancy, that help would come in time and that the time of darkness would be followed by great light. And here we are. But enough of the past. We have a new life to welcome. I would consider it an honor to help midwife the birth of your child."


The 10-word:

Bubbles smile was all the answer that was needed. "Lady, Purist, now - even as you did then - you radiate love and kindness that is like a healing balm. I used to climb up onto our stone wall and eagerly watch for some sign that you might come for a visit.  I didn't always understand the sometimes overheated conversations Mom and Pop had about your safety and about how to protect you. You seemed so strong and sure and magical to me that I thought they must be in error. Why, my child's heart, wondered, would anyone try to harm such goodness and beauty? And even if they wanted to, how - I foolishly thought - could they do so? Alas, time has taught me lessons I wish I had not learned. But now it also teaches me that my child's heart was right. You were strongest in the end and they could not truly harm you.  Oh, my! This child has a will to enter this life. Where is healer McFlash? I believe my time is very soon." "I'm here, my dear." McFlash responded. "The moment is indeed close." "Where is the Paragon," Bubbles asked suddenly. "Right here," an anxious voice replied instantly. "Is there something more that you need?"  Bubbles giggled and then groaned slightly as another contraction shook her body. "I wanted to thank you for the spider web fabric and let you know that it has indeed made a difference. The pain is much more bearable. Also, I wish to ask you and all the others gathered here if you would do something for me. It is a family tradition to have our children sung into the world. I will let the dragons decide whether this child should be welcomed with a flamboyant song or a lullaby or something in between, but I would be grateful if you all at least struck a chord or two as this baby starts her life." Fred Johnson felt a rush of inspiration. "If I might teach you an old earth song - forgive me dragons, I know the choice is yours - I would love to do so. It is a hymn called "Amazing Grace," and somehow I believe it is your daughter's song, Bubbles. "Ah, Paragon, you never cease to amaze! Grace is the name her father and I chose for her when she was first conceived. That sounds like the perfect song indeed."

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  the answer, vow, plot, pillar, fans, effective, walk the line, craft, oversight, civil 

And for the mini: speech, local, crowd, rock fall, back-scratcher

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 208

And the story of the Paragon of Virtue continues. Today is installment 48. Will it ever end, I wonder. Starting to feel like it never will... but it is moving very slowly towards something.... Hoping at least I can get everyone out of the cave they are in at present.   

It will probably come as no surprise to anyone that I'm going to post the words and Mr. Linky awhile but will not do my own exercises until tomorrow. I'm REALLY tired. We had big rain and it cooled off a little but it's still humid and it doesn't feel 15 degrees cooler. It still feels awful. I'm going to turn the computer off (almost unheard of during the day) and let it cool off a bit and take a nap instead of writing wordzzles. Tomorrow is another day as Scarlett O'Hara said.


5:45 Saturday:  Well, it's all over but the shouting. I was tempted to let it story of the Paragon of Virtue rest with today's episodes, but it seemed like there would be a bunch of loose ends that weren't quite tied up if I did that. I hope it's not a mistake. I am torn even as I type this, but in a couple of seconds when I post it, I guess there will be no turning back. No fool like an old fool.


Here are links to the previous episodes.  If you need/want to catch up, click here for the 1st installment, 2nd installment, 3rd installment, 4th installment, 5th installment, 6th installment, 7th installment., 8th installment, 9th installment, 10th installment, 11th installment, 12th installment, 13th installment, 14th installment, 15th installment, 16th installment, 17th installment, 18th installment, 19th installment. 20th installment, 21st installment, 22nd installment, 23rd installment, 24th installment, 25th installment, 26th installment, 27th installment, 28th installment, 29th installment, 30th installment, 31st installment, 32nd installment, 33rd installment, 34th installment, 35th installment, 36th installment, 37th installment , 38th installment, 39th installment, 40th installment, 41st installment, 42nd installment, 43rd Installment, 44th installment, 45th installment, 46th installment, 47th installment...

Words for this week's 10 word challenge:  everything, who we are, tapestry, discussion, strands, light in the window, requirements, combination, need, aspect    And for the mini: guidance, raise, two more things, calico cat, before



My mega:   


For a moment or two everything was strangely still. Then a voice - a voice so redolent with evil and venom that it raised the hair on the back of he Paragon's neck and filled his heart with a combination of terror and rage - broke the silence.  "So, now you know who we are. Yet we shall defeat you anyway."  The aspect of the being who spoke those words was perhaps more hideous than the voice that emanated from it. The face was surrounded by wild strands of thinning hair that looked like dead snakes. The skin was pale and blotchy with patches of dark and light so that his coloring was almost like that of a calico cat.  And the eyes - the eyes were the worst. They glowed with a malevolent madness that was as tragic as it was evil. "Quillard Quake," Wizard Spark whispered. "What poetic justice that Psycho locked you in the hell you devised for you his innocent wife. The reward for your guidance was to be entombed with your victim. Before you do anything else, perhaps you should gaze in the mirror and consider whether the cause of a long dead monster is one worth fighting for. Look around and you will see that in any case, the Lady Purist has been rescued already and the dragons have spelled your companions back to where they belong."  At these words, the mad old wizard spun around to discover that this was not just words. Cloaked in invisibility, the Paragon had quietly removed the book into which Lady Purist had been painted and removed it to the outer cave, where the painter had set her free at last. Armadillo and the painter had returned her to the toy shop and the waiting arms of her son. "She is safe at last," Paraphrase chimed in. "You are alone and the tapestry of your life is unraveled. Mighty as you once were, you can not defeat us."  "Too much discussion," the acid voice of the insane old wizard spit out, lifting his arm in an attempt to hurl a spell. "Perhaps some light in the window of your soul will help." Spark, declared, blasting a gaping hole in the wall and the ceiling so that the sealed cave was suddenly bathed in light, effectively blinding the old man who had lived so many years sealed in darkness. He dropped his wand, screaming with pain and anger, to cover his eyes. "Two more things,"  the dragon and wizard spoke in unison, "Although you have already paid a price, the crimes you have committed are beyond forgiveness and therefore, the Joint Council of Wizards and Dragons, in accordance with the requirements of magical law, you are stripped of all memory and power and condemned to live out your remaining mortal days in this cave. Your need for food and water will be met - and unlike what you created for Lady Purist, we will leave the opening in the ceiling so that you can know the passing of the days and nights, but that is all. It is a cruel fate, but we feel, a just one."  As Quake opened his mouth to protest, the cave was filled with the voices of the Wizard Council, speaking each in turn. "So be it." Then each of the assembled party added their own "So Be It." and vanished leaving the cave and it's evil prisoner sealed until such time as life took leave of him.




My mini: 


Deeply weary but profoundly happy, the warriors emerged from the mural to see before them the happy sight of Lady Purist in happy conversation with her son, McFlash, Bubbles, and the painter.  The excited and doting owners of the toy shop were pouring tea with such attentive delight that they virtually glowed with happiness. Even Parchment, Bubble's calico cat,  who was generally somewhat aloof, lay curled up in the Lady's lap. Only Armadillo, the giant dragon had remained on guard and alert for trouble. Seeing the others emerge from the wall, he raised his wings in salute and let a giant tear escape his eye. "You are safe. Is it over?" "Almost," the old wizard responded. "Two more things and hopefully it will be truly done. Lady Purist," he said, turning towards the group at the table and bowing slightly, "welcome home. It has been too long."  The lady smiled.  "An eternity and a moment both. There are no words to thank you all for saving me from that dreadful cave. Or for - as he has explained to me - saving my son from the poison his father put into his heart. You are heroes all. Yes, even you, Painter Perfidy. I knew even as you worked to create my prison that you were innocent of guilt. And I was not unaware, that once you realized their plan, that you did what you could to paint small, unnoticed comforts into the scenes. And now you have helped save me. Talk about escaping into literature," she added, laughing so merrily that they were soon all joining her. Paraphrase spoke next. "My lady, I have always admired you, but never more than witnessing your the strength and courage to have come through this ordeal not only sound of mind, but able to laugh." "Which reminds, me" the wizard chimed in. Our last - or perhaps next to last - task. Purpose Pefidy, under the guidance of the Joint Council of Wizards and Dragons, I request that you erase the masterpiece you created, including the cave in which - by virtue of a time spell - Quillard Quake has endured another 100 years in the prison he created for Lady Purist. Let it be as though it never was."  




And the 10-word:  


As the sun outside the shop was setting, the painter started slowly and carefully unpainting each aspect of the world he had created so many years ago.  McFlash and Bubbles, for their part, mixed up a combination of herbs and other ingredients to help strengthen and prepare Lady Purist for her return to the real world. Although she was amazingly strong and well, her time in the cave and not left her completely unscathed and it seemed wise to tend to her there at the shop, giving her time to adapt to her freedom and allowing time also for their herbs and incantations to work. The others, for their part, entered into a lengthy discussion of everything that had transpired during the Lady's absence, creating as full and accurate a picture of events as words allowed. This was particularly painful for Brave Heart, who still felt deep shame and grief over his years and actions as Count Psycho. Seeing this, his mother gently put her arm around him. "My son," she said, quietly. "Who we are in our hearts is what counts most in the story of a life. Until the Paragon and these other brave souls helped awaken you, your father's poison had locked you in a cave as dark and cruel as the one in which they imprisoned me. The Bird of Paradise does not give names lightly and there are many new strands still to be sown into the tapestry of the legacy you will leave behind in this life. You have taken responsibility for the harm you have done and now you need to try and put that past behind you. The only requirement anyone can ask of you, is that you live and act from the brave and loving heart that has been restored to you. You can not change the past, but you can live every day from now on with the love and generosity that is your true self. And I am here now, to help you do that. I love you so, my son. Seeing you again, is what kept my hope alive and my heart beating."  As she spoke these words, the first rays of the morning sun cast their light in the window of the shop. The symbolism, not lost on her, Paraphrase spoke. "A new day dawns," she said. And as if to confirm that thought, the painter joined them. "My task is finished." Turning to Melody and Wallace Stripes, he said, "I hope you don't mind that I have created a more toy-store appropriate mural on the wall. I can paint it over, though, if you would like." "Don't you dare!" the couple cried as one voice. "It's wonderful." The others, turned to see the wall now radiant with a joyful scene of toys and laughing children."  "It's perfectly magical!" Bubbles exclaimed and then added with a gasp...."I think my child is eager to come out and play. It seems that my water has broken." 

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge:  difference, flamboyant, over-heated, stone wall, radiate, spider web, chord, sign, error, pop

And for the mini: tired, shadows, baggage, fabric, roll

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.