Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wednesday, 11 December 2024

Words for Wednesday 11/12/2024

This meme was started by Delores a long time ago.  Computer issues led her to bow out for a while.  The meme was too much fun to let go, and now Words for Wednesday is provided by a number of people and has become a movable feast. 

Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write.  Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image.   What we do with those prompts is up to us:  a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore...  We can use some or all of the prompts, and mixing and matching is encouraged.

Some of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog.  I would really like it if as many people as possible joined into this fun meme, which includes cheering on the other participants.  If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.
 

Huge thanks to Alex J. Cavanaugh who challenged us last month, despite it being a very busy month for him.  This month Wisewebwoman is providing the prompts and they will appear here.  Charlotte (MotherOwl) has selected light blue as the colour of the month.

This week's prompts are:


  • Arithmetic
  • Daffodils
  • Bicycle
  • Graveyard
  • Sympathy


and/or



  • Gravy
  • Tugboat
  • Flag
  • Hospital
  • Freedom


As always, have fun.
 

 

66 comments:

  1. The sky was a delicate PALE BLUE with clouds stacked in ARITHMETIC formation. When Zack was in the HOSPITAL it hardly seemed possible that a visit to the GRAVEYARD was in the offing. But as I mounted my BICYCLE to head off to the funeral I was both sad and elated. At least now he has FREEDOM from pain. DAFFODILS were nodding in the wind at the side of the road, as though in SYMPATHY. Zack would have liked that. They would have been GRAVY on the proverbial cake – or is that icing? A FLAG was hanging limply on a pole outside the crematorium when I arrived. It reminded me of the TUGBOAT Zack piloted for so many years. He always made sure that the flag was immaculate, never a blemish, never a tear. I wished for a little wind so that it would fly bravely for him. It would be a fitting way to send him on his final journey. May his memory be a blessing for all of us.

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    1. David M. Gascoigne: This is beautiful. Thank you. May we all be remembered so kindly and with so much love.

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    2. What a lovely short. Well done, David.
      Sandra sandracox.blogspot.com

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    3. Beautiful story David, a little teary here. You captured Zach so well I feel I know him.
      XO
      WWW

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    4. A fine tribute. Well done, David.

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    5. Sad, but lovely and I like to think Zack is sailing bravely into whatever comes next.

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    6. Hi David - very evocative and delightfully told ... clever take on the words. I hope the same for us all ... a peaceful exit - not for a while yet, I hope ... cheers Hilary

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    7. What a sad and yet not really so sad story. It's hard to mourn those who are released from pain through death, even though we miss them terribly.

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    8. David M. Gascoigne: Sad but that's life. I like 'clouds stacked in arithmetic formation' - good phrase.

      Have a lovely day.

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    9. Beautiful approach, David. I loved the text, take care!

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  2. Richard relished freedom of speech and prided himself on his plain speaking. Others considered him rude.
    When asked what he had thought of the meal he had just been served he said ‘like the parson’s egg it was good in parts. And the gravy wasn’t one of those parts. It was worse than hospital food. You would need a tugboat to spread it across the plate. If you serve this regularly your husband has my sympathy. I would rather be in the graveyard than try and eat this again.’
    His trenchant speech was first met with silence and then a babble of conversation broke out. Daphne asked their hostess whether she could recommend her son’s mathematics tutor ‘Our Daniel has problems too’. Rose raved about the daffodils standing sentry on the path to the front door. Failing all else Clive asked whether the pale blue and yellow colours of the bicycle he had noticed in the hall were a deliberate mimicry of the Ukrainian flag.
    As usual Richard had the last word. ‘You are cowards the lot of you. Don’t tell me that you haven’t thought the things I said. And how can our hostess improve her cooking if none of you ever tell her that her work is not perfect. She asked and I told her.’
    And this is loosely based on truth. My father who was also a Richard, though he was commonly known as Dick (or Pope Dick since his stated ambition was to be the first Jewish Pope) prided himself on his blunt speech and his honesty. And he never apologised.

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    1. How hurtful plain speaking can be. And I always view such eating/social events to be about the company and the effort and never, ever the quality of the *free* meal. And I've had awful ones and I'm sure I served the same in my time. Like yours, mine is based on a true story as well.
      Gosh we had judgey fathers.
      XO
      WWW

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    2. Why would you see me smiling?
      Sometimes it's refreshing when someone's calling a spade a spade.

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    3. Harsh words, but at least now the hostess knows to make her gravy a little better. I knew someone who made gravy so thick you could slice it with a knife.

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    4. Oh Crumbs - how very unfair ... a father doing that is definitely not good - I feel for you ... well done on using the words based on truths. Cheers Hilary

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    5. Plain speaking has its place but when it becomes cruel it is time for a little creative verbal dancing.

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    6. You used the words well. The character in your story does not use his words nicely and well. Such people make me sad for them.

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    7. Elephant's Child: I kind of admire Richard for having the guts to say what most would keep silent. But it is rude.

      Have a lovely day.

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    8. E.C. ,
      I would never have the courage to call things as they are.
      I'm always afraid my words might hurt someone! Surely, thanks to those brave enough to speak the truth, we become a little better!
      An original piece, thank you!

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  3. Don't you hate it when folks use 'plain speaking' as an excuse to be rude. Well done, EC.
    Sandra sandracox.blogspot.com

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  4. Here is mine. All words and colour used. I'm looking forward to all of yours!
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    he had tied her rusty old bicycle to the back of her small car. From what she understood about where Liam was, it was the back of beyond, unreachable by vehicle and 10 kilometers from the main road. She rode the bike along the only path for it seemed forever until she saw the water and the little island.

    All she could secure at the rickety old dock was a rusty old tugboat to take her over to the island. An antique old thing belching smoke into the clear light blue sky overhead. And the gravy was this antique old captain holding out his filthy hand for the ten dollars to ferry her over.

    Last time she saw Liam, he was at the hospital. That was when, she did the arithmetic, ten years ago before he moved to what? A hermitage on an isolated small island in the middle of Lake Pine. Alone.

    Of course she had tons of sympathy for the loss of his wife and baby but this isolation? His lack of communication, no phone, no letters? One can wave the flag of freedom but what about those who love you left behind?

    And now there he was standing on his own rickety dock waving his hands as if he knew she was coming. The local mayor must have told him after her call.

    Her eyes caught a long, long ribbon of yellow trailing off up into the hill behind Liam.

    As she stepped off the tugboat, Liam took her in his arms. “What do you think of the daffodils, my dear sister? I planted eight thousand of them, one for every day of my darling’s life. Come, let’s walk the path to her graveyard.”
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    XO
    WWW

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    1. Wisewebwoman: Grief takes us all differently doesn't it? Planting 8000 daffodils is a fine tribute to a much loved person though. Well told - and yes I am moved.

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    2. So she was not even 22 when she died?
      Moving story, anyway.

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    3. A hermitage on an island seems like a fine way to deal with grief if that's the only way you can think of. Sad for those left behind, but at least she knew where he was and could go to him.

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    4. Hi Wisewebwoman - what sad story ... strange to think it's based on truth. 8,000 daffodils ... what memories and then the grief - another great tale around the suggested words - thank you ... Hilary

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    5. A great story. You definitely missed out on a career as a writer.

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    6. An excellent use of the words. It's sad to isolate yourself, but maybe it has helped him heal.

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    7. Wisewebwoman: It's sweet he still miss her and planted those daffodils. I don't know if that's good or bad but sweet.

      Have a lovely day.

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    8. Wisewebwoman
      Many times, if we do something and don't remain idle, it takes away a little of our sadness!
      Especially if we do something for the people we love!
      I really liked it, I visualized it, all these narcissists!

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  5. I just shovelled the driveway. Again. I am happy just reading, not writing! Whew!

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    1. Jenn Jilks: I am glad you are reading - and don't envy your driveway shovelling.

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  6. Babysitting earlier today, working on it now.

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  7. "I am for the gravy", he told his much better half before he once again made his way to the graveyard conveniently located below the hospital.
    There he hoisted his flag of freedom, which showed a light blue tugboat with the word sympathy trailing behind it, and listened to those viewing the daffodils from below.
    Today he learned that the gross and net result of Sergeant Pluck's Atomic theory is "that people who spend most of their natural lives riding iron bicycles over rocky roadsteads get their personalities mixed up with the personalities of their bicycle as a result of the interchanging of the atoms of each of them and you would be surprised, Mr Gauß, at the number of people who are nearly half people and half bicycles", whereupon the person addressed murmured: "Mathematics is queen of the sciences and arithmetic the queen of mathematics."

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    1. Sean Jeating: My mother (who had a PhD in pure mathematics) would agree with your character. My father (a physicist) would argue. Neither put any value on language.

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    2. I have no idea what any of that means, but you got all the words in.

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    3. Hi Sean - well you've introduced me to Gauss - I do have a SIL who is a Cambridge mathematician - beyond me! I enjoyed your take on the words ... with half being people, and half being iron atoms ... looks like EC knows what's what ... while I fall into River's slot - thank you for Mr Gauss! Cheers Hilary

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    4. It's amazing what you can learn by overhearing other people's conversations. Nicely done!

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  8. I always like the twists your stories take Sean. Very well done here!
    XO
    WWW

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  9. An interesting mix of words, I'll see what I can do with them and have a story on my blog on Friday.

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  10. Nice tales. Always enjoy reading them with a cuppa.

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    1. Margaret D: Blessed blogger is convinced your comments are spam. Thank you for reading and cheering us on.

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  11. Hi EC and Wisewebwoman and all ... I forgot yesterday! Such is life - but I'll catch up in the next couple of days ... here's mine using all the words:

    Flag had dropped the tugboat into the gravy … splattering his sky-blue T-shirt ... kids?! We had to visit the hospital to make sure Grandpa got his freedom before Christmas, but we'd make sure to visit Grandma's grave in the graveyard, saying a prayer of sympathy.

    Why we'd called him Flag … we couldn't remember … perhaps it was Grandpa after his time in the Navy, when Admiral Wilson acquired his nickname 'Tug'.

    Flag had mentioned he was learning 'Rythematic' in school this week … one day he'll learn to say it properly. The class was due to count the early daffodils flowering in the school yard – not many – and then the kids could 'play' learning their times tables.

    My son was growing fast … but I needed him to understand and learn so much before he left our home. Christmas is such a special family time.

    Best wishes for this festive time to all Words for Wednesdays participants …

    Cheers Hilary

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    1. Hilary Melton-Butcher: I did enjoy this. I wonder whether I would have got on better with Arithmetic if it had been Rythematic (which makes me think of poetry).

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    2. Flag might like rhythm(at)ic gymnastics. ;-)
      Well done, Hilary!

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    3. Well done, Hilary. I am quite sure your mind has tunnels inaccessible to most of us with our pedestrian thoughts and ways.

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  12. Very clever use of the words Hilary. I love the kid being called "Flag". And kids counting daffodils. Lovely.
    XO
    WWW

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  13. Sympathy‘s in the dictionary
    Between sh!t and sypha!es, he said.
    The difference between a gravy boat
    And tugboat’s in your head.
    Daffodils on bicycles
    through the graveyard on they go
    With certificates of freedom
    From the hospital, don’t you know.

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    1. Well done on the poem BF, great use of the words!
      XO
      WWW

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    2. The Blog Fodder: Definitely surreal. And I suspect I know just what type of hospital issues those certificates. Well done.

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    3. It's always handy to have a cemetery near a hospital where you can look at the daffodils from six feet under.
      Good one, BF.

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    4. Hi Blog Fodder ... this is delightful ... very clever - I don't think I'll look up where something lives in a dictionary any time soon. Loved the poem ... cunningly good! Cheers Hilary

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  14. I will never be a wordsmith, but love reading what people come up with. Hope you're doing well and staying warm.

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    1. Sandy: Your creative talents lie in other areas. Thank you for reading - and believe me I am warm. Too warm.

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  15. Gravy is an interesting word since it has two meanings.

    My take on the prompts is here: Fiction: New York Moon.

    Have a lovely day.

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    1. lissa: I have been and read your haunting piece - and am still thinking about it.

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  16. Just dropping by with a virtual hug and hopes for a pleasant weekend.

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    1. Rawknrobyn: Thank you. I hope your weekend was gentle and lovely.

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