Times 10 challenge, Sapphires Short story Options

[Rhymer]

lumber
wainwright
union
carter
pannier
metallurgy
frock
penance
hassock
stumble

Mr. Carter was, as befitted his name, the farm Carter where I lived. He had constructed a Pannier, that hung on the back of the Lumber seat of the wagon. In this he kept his flask of tea; his lunch, his tobacco and pipe. He was a man of many talents, inasmuch as he was also a capable Wainwright with a skill in Metallurgy. This was back in the days when Titled men wore a Frock coat when cold Fall winds blew in from the North. As this was a time long before Unions entered the working man’s life, any man could work at whatever came his way, with no fear of his workmates going out on strike.
As a young lad I attended Sunday morning Services where my Grandfather was the Church Warden, Sexton, and Bell ringer. Being a man of sincere faith he seldom missed a Service. His Sunday Church duties entailed the handing out of Prayer and Hymn books and Hassock to whomsoever needed one. Many parishioners could neither read nor write but knew from their many attendances, most of Service routine, and attending a church service was their way of paying Penance for any imagined sins they had committed. My Grandfather was a man of the highest integrity, and was well known by all villagers, and sought after, should they Stumble and need someone to help or guide them in moral ways.. Even those who were of High Estate, who were were easily recognised, by their wearing of the fashionable Frock coat - which I as a lad, can well recall seeing. Rhymer.

metallurgy
frock
penance
hassock
stumble
footbridge
toll
fox
thresher
chaff.

[Psyche]

lumber
wainwright
union
carter
pannier
metallurgy
frock
penance
hassock
stumble

Mr. Carter was, as befitted his name, the farm Carter where I lived. He had constructed a Pannier, that hung on the back of the Lumber seat of the wagon. In this he kept his flask of tea; his lunch, his tobacco and pipe. He was a man of many talents, inasmuch as he was also a capable Wainwright with a skill in Metallurgy. This was back in the days when Titled men wore a Frock coat when cold Fall winds blew in from the North. As this was a time long before Unions entered the working man’s life, any man could work at whatever came his way, with no fear of his workmates going out on strike.
As a young lad I attended Sunday morning Services where my Grandfather was the Church Warden, Sexton, and Bell ringer. Being a man of sincere faith he seldom missed a Service. His Sunday Church duties entailed the handing out of Prayer and Hymn books and Hassock to whomsoever needed one. Many parishioners could neither read nor write but knew from their many attendances, most of Service routine, and attending a church service was their way of paying Penance for any imagined sins they had committed. My Grandfather was a man of the highest integrity, and was well known by all villagers, and sought after, should they Stumble and need someone to help or guide them in moral ways.. Even those who were of High Estate, who were were easily recognised, by their wearing of the fashionable Frock coat - which I as a lad, can well recall seeing. Rhymer.

metallurgy
frock
penance
hassock
stumble
footbridge
toll
fox
thresher
chaff.

Hi Denis, I apologize for not doing this one yet. Been very busy and today offered us a splendid Spring temperature, at 18°C. I walked around our area with my daughter Diana. Maybe tomorrow. All the best, your stories are wonderful. Sylvia

[JustDaniel]

metallurgy
thresher
chaff
penance
frock
fox
footbridge
toll
stumble
hassock

Since I know nothing of METALLURGY I could never fashion the pieces necessary to repair a THRESHER, so our whole hay field becomes CHAFF and I must do PENANCE for my neglecting to put on my field-laborer's FROCK to tend it. Only the FOX appreciates it, as we've given it room to hide from its potential prey in our back field.

Since my son filled in our unfortunate little fish pond, we no longer need a FOOTBRIDGE to go over it, nor will I have to pay a TOLL to the troll to cross, nor fear I'll STUMBLE into the pond. I think I'll just sit down and put my feet up on the HASSOCK and rest, relieved that I'm safe inside.

footbridge
toll
fox
thresher
chaff
retriever
salad
washing machine
dishwasher
field hand

[Rhymer]

footbridge
toll
fox
thresher
chaff
retriever
salad
washing machine
dishwasher
field hand

In front of the large farmhouse in which my grandparents lived, a small stream known as the Chesil Brook ran on its way to join the larger Frome river that led eventually to the sea. It was fordable being only inches deep most of the time, but could be a raging torrent in Spring or when thunderstorms passed through. It was crossed by means of a small wooden Footbridge. From this structure I, as a young lad, would get pails of water for Grandma’s weekly washing chore, Known by all as a “copper”, under which a fire heated the water therein. Dirty clothes etc., were put into it to be ‘paddled’ clean. Not your modern automatic electrically driven Washing Machine, but nothing more than a tub with a paddle contraption that required hard labour to ‘churn’ the contents clean! As Granddad was a Field Hand - very adept at whatever job he undertook, times were he, after working on the Thresher, would return home covered in Chaff and dust. However as bathing facilities were very basic, on such occasions, he would strip down to his underpants, and remove the day’s toil under the hand pump in an alcove off the large ‘scullery’ area. This area was used by all the family when needed. On some hot summer evenings he, as would all his nine children, would then go to the stream and plunge into the deep section which he had dug in the stream bed, to cool off! Much depended upon the weather conditions, but he being strong and hardy, would seldom hesitate to plunge into the river’s cooling waters. All soap had to be removed first, as the river was the sole source of water for cattle downstream.

Located on either side of his farmhouse property were lanes - known as 'droves' - little more than cart tracks - dirt roads as we know them - down which cattle were driven to a new pasture or market - hence the word 'drove' that led to distant isolated farms situated in the hills to the West. The lanes were originally ‘Toll’ accessed. inasmuch as the farmers to which these lanes led, paid a yearly sum of a Shilling or two to the local Council. This allowed all, such as the Thresher, to use. The upkeep of said lanes, was dependent more upon their use, than the Council who owned the “Right of Way” or farmers who owned the lands on either side. As one who enjoyed my rural life, I would take my faithful companion Bruce - no Retriever but as smart a dog as any you could wish for - on a trip by way of the 'drove' close by, to see if I could maybe see the Fox and her cubs playing outside their den located in a small copsed area nearby. this was generally after I had eaten my evening mea. Summer time it was often a Salad meal of home grown lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber and home made cheese on well buttered bread. Butter I often churned, and fresh bread Mother baked! With no Dish Washer, my expected duties included washing up dishes with my sister, before we could go out for an hour of before bedtime fun. Ah what memories of those halcyon times, such events bring back to me! Times I’d love to experience once again! Even more so were they with the folks who are long gone. Rhymer.

retriever
salad
washing machine
dishwasher
field hand
Copper
Stream
Lanes
Cucumber
Scullery[/size][/size]

[JustDaniel]

scullery
dishwasher
washing machine
copper
retriever
field hands
lane
streams
cucumbers
salads

No house that I grew up in or visited ever had a SCULLERY, but any DISHWASHER did his or her duty right there in the only kitchen in the house, and for some years they were the only WASHING MACHINE in the house as well. I got older, however, we always had one in our utility room near the back door, where we also all hung our coats and outside clothes. We also didn't have any of those big COPPER tubs in which to heat water, since we had hot water in the house from the time Dad built it when I was a tot. We also never had a RETRIEVER, but a wonderful cocker spaniel most of my life until she was killed in a fire, which her daughter survived.

Since we did not live on a farm there were no FIELD HANDS, but at the top of our road, really an alley, there was a walking LANE that went through the property adjacent to the house where my Mom had grown up that went to the baseball field behind the Boys' Club where I worked till I went off to college.

Years before I was born there had been a few STREAMS in the neighborhood, but when they put storm drains in the area, the streams were channeled beneath the ground, so they no longer fed the gardens where my grandmother grew tomatoes, squash, CUCUMBERS, lettuce, and other items for her wonderful SALADS, as well as grapes, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries in addition to our purple and golden plum trees.

copper
streams
lane
cucumbers
scullery
firearms
tormentor
blimp
dog path
compost pile

[Rhymer]

copper
streams
lane
cucumbers
scullery
firearms
tormentor
blimp
dog path
compost pile

A couple of Blue Moons ago - 1944 to be precise - ago when I was Fifteen, and life was one discovery after another, there were happenings that kept me ever inquisitive and alert, my eyes were opened to many new inventions and happenings. Some were such that even today, they still resonate with me. One in particular I vividly recall, was my watching a Blimp carrying passengers, that passed overhead on its way to America. Known as the Graff Zeppelin I believe. It was a time when Firearms were quite a common sight in my country region and no regulations prevented them from being carried openly by all and sundry. Mainly shotguns of .410 calibre - my own choice of gun - or double barrel 12 bore possessed of greater fire power. One I used to hunt rabbits which were both a curse and a blessing to country folk. A curse because of their voracious habit of decimating farm sowings and garden crops such as Cucumbers and lettuce, but a blessing for such as ourselves. Being a ready source of meat - in various dishes - and often the main ingredient of our midday meal. Myxomatosis finally ended their reign later. The 12 bore shotgun was also great for keeping flocks of the common pigeon away. The perfect gun for this task, when Winter snows would see huge flocks of these varmints descend on a crop of kale - essential cattle feed when pastures were buried under deep snow! A flock - often several hundred in number - could strip it bare within minutes unless protected. At such times I would sit in my ‘Hide’ which I had fashioned in the hedge of the Lane alongside the field, and blast these marauding pests. Often discharging one single shell at the opportune moment, would bring down four or five! Unfortunately pigeons are not a great source of meat protein. Their breast meat is the only part worth cooking. The lane was also part of the Dog Path I walked most evenings with Bruce my 'Greyhound cross' hounddog, who could, and did outrun a rabbit or hare whenever he chose. A real Tormentor of anything that moved when the mood was upon him. He also loved to splash in the shallow Chesil Stream whose winding course, eventually took it through our farm meadows after leaving my Grandparents property. On occasion when Mother had a rabbit to spare, I would take one to my Grandparents, who hung it in the cool of their Scullery - far from the heat of the Copper - until needed. Today I occasionally see a rabbit hunkered down in its ‘squat’ near my large Compost Pile, which is at the far end of my rather large garden. The compost therein, is a most useful and much needed soil enhancer for various crops when the summer heat is fiercest. Ideal for a needed source of moist nutrients in our sandy soil, as was proven during this summer's drought. Rhymer.

firearms
tormentor
blimp
dog path
cucumbers
Composter
Myxomatosis
Squab
Drought
Squat

[Psyche]

copper
streams
lane
cucumbers
scullery
firearms
tormentor
blimp
dog path
compost pile

A couple of Blue Moons ago - 1944 to be precise - ago when I was Fifteen, and life was one discovery after another, there were happenings that kept me ever inquisitive and alert, my eyes were opened to many new inventions and happenings. Some were such that even today, they still resonate with me. One in particular I vividly recall, was my watching a Blimp carrying passengers, that passed overhead on its way to America. Known as the Graff Zeppelin I believe. It was a time when Firearms were quite a common sight in my country region and no regulations prevented them from being carried openly by all and sundry. Mainly shotguns of .410 calibre - my own choice of gun - or double barrel 12 bore possessed of greater fire power. One I used to hunt rabbits which were both a curse and a blessing to country folk. A curse because of their voracious habit of decimating farm sowings and garden crops such as Cucumbers and lettuce, but a blessing for such as ourselves. Being a ready source of meat - in various dishes - and often the main ingredient of our midday meal. Myxomatosis finally ended their reign later. The 12 bore shotgun was also great for keeping flocks of the common pigeon away. The perfect gun for this task, when Winter snows would see huge flocks of these varmints descend on a crop of kale - essential cattle feed when pastures were buried under deep snow! A flock - often several hundred in number - could strip it bare within minutes unless protected. At such times I would sit in my ‘Hide’ which I had fashioned in the hedge of the Lane alongside the field, and blast these marauding pests. Often discharging one single shell at the opportune moment, would bring down four or five! Unfortunately pigeons are not a great source of meat protein. Their breast meat is the only part worth cooking. The lane was also part of the Dog Path I walked most evenings with Bruce my 'Greyhound cross' hounddog, who could, and did outrun a rabbit or hare whenever he chose. A real Tormentor of anything that moved when the mood was upon him. He also loved to splash in the shallow Chesil Stream whose winding course, eventually took it through our farm meadows after leaving my Grandparents property. On occasion when Mother had a rabbit to spare, I would take one to my Grandparents, who hung it in the cool of their Scullery - far from the heat of the Copper - until needed. Today I occasionally see a rabbit hunkered down in its ‘squat’ near my large Compost Pile, which is at the far end of my rather large garden. The compost therein, is a most useful and much needed soil enhancer for various crops when the summer heat is fiercest. Ideal for a needed source of moist nutrients in our sandy soil, as was proven during this summer's drought. Rhymer.

firearms
tormentor
blimp
dog path
cucumbers
Composter
Myxomatosis
Squab
Drought
Squat

A young lady was walking her poodle down a dog path when some effete blimps appeared from the woods, bearing firearms. They proceeded to torment her, assuring the frightened lady that they would kidnap her and feed her with squab infected with Myxomatosis, a poxivirus found mostly in rabbits, but not transmisable to humans. They were lying to her, assuring her that she would come down with a fatal infection.
They obliged her to squat in a circle in a glade in the woods, explaining to her that the prolongued drought was the reason that they had no natural sources to fill up their composter. They complained that they were not able to harvest their favorite vegetables, such as cucumbers, artichokes, asparagus and several other fine species that they used to cook as side dishes for their important guests during the end of year festivities.

blimp
cucumber
composter
squat
squab
tentacles
robot
funeral
archipelago
Eufrates

[Rhymer]

blimp
cucumber
composter
squat
squab
tentacles
robot
funeral
archipelago
Eufrates - Euphrates

I was half asleep in my recliner, with my thoughts wandering to earlier times when I, full of ambition without giving a single thought as to how and when, or for that matter how I could ever afford to indulge in my fantasies? Resting, I allowed myself to drift into distant regions of this wonderful world. Some of which I had only dreamt about. Although I had sailed through the Suez Canal and Red Sea, I have never seen the Euphrates river which flows through arid desert reaches however in my later naval days I actually had flown over the Indonesian Archipelago as I went to join my ship in Japan. As we flew over Indonesia i witnessed a Funeral in progress at the time Obviously one of great sadness, for many attending were dressed in white. A sign of mourning in many parts of the world. Being no Robot, I felt their pangs of anguish, such as those I felt when my Grandfather passed away on Christmas Eve. 1941. I was twelve years of age at the time but the pain of the moment has never faded.

Shifting my pose on my recliner, I next recalled the hissing sounds that proclaimed a Blimp was passing overhead on its westward way? Fantasizing I wondered if perhaps a sea Cucumber might make a similar sound were one to puncture it with a harpoon? Did they have feelings such as ours? Do they hiss a warning to an approaching diver? Could harvesting same, be an good addition to my Composter? Living far from the sea, I possess no way of knowing. Do they perhaps Squat and wave Tentacles to attract and catch their daily food requirements? There's so little known about these underwater plants, I doubt few truly know. Least of all me. It was at that moment I heard someone calling my name which brought me back to reality. Moving to a Squat position I listened intently as I prepared to leave further reveries for later, and quickly rising from my Squab cushion I returned to work at my pleasure. Namely: gardening. My love of which is only second to my first love. That which I hold for my life’s companion: my wife Pauline.

tentacles
robot
funeral
archipelago
Eufrates - Euphrates
Cushion
Crab
Suez Canal
Borneo
Egypt

[Rhymer]

S’s Short Story.

tentacles
robot
funeral
archipelago
Eufrates - Euphrates
Cushion
Crab
Suez Canal
Borneo
Egypt

Semi conscious, I briefly awoke from my reveries upon hearing a noise. Remaining quietly unmoving, I gave further thought upon my reminisces. Ere a few moments had passed I must have returned to where fatigue had taken me. The place, twixt the conscious and unconscious - one we call day dreaming, is a welcome place where we can relive pleasures experienced earlier. No need to revisit the Euphrates, or recall the Funeral in the Indonesian Archipelago. Nor did I dwell further upon a Robot or an earlier time, when I was fascinated to watch an Octopus embracing the Tentacles of another, in an aquarium. However, I did wonder if perhaps. the motive on my Cushion - a giant Crab - like one I’d seen on a brief stop-over in Borneo, many moons ago, might have triggered the reminder of this encounter ? Drifting in my no man’s land, time seemed of no consequence, as I recalled the sights and sounds of my journey down the Suez Canal and Red Sea in 1951. After a brief stop-over in the bustling port of Suez - Egypt’s gateway between the Mediterranean Sea and the Indian Ocean, my ship, HMS Warrior, resumed its journey to Singapore. It was here, my reverie was ended and I, fully awakened, decided [t was best I return to my gardening chores, with all further reminiscing put on hold, until another day. Rhymer.

PS: For obvious reasons, I will not offer Ten Words for the next ‘possible’ Mini Story.
PPS: Happy Birthday Daniel, May you enjoy your day. Denis.

[Rhymer]

Hi, one and all.

I have left this this Mini story here, in hopes someone will begin another. I feel I have selfishly dominated this one of late, and perhaps it best I leave this story here. With membership at an all time low, and winter on its way, I have to fashion and allot all available time to urgent needs. I will admit I have had a great enjoyment from testing my limited - literary skills - maybe not what others definite them as being - but nonetheless, writing, does help to keep my little grey cells working, so I can remain possessed of a small degree of sanity! Of late it's been a tricky balancing act - with little encouragement. Firstly to winterise my garden, whilst I kieep a wary eye on the household proceedings. Then I have to organize the bi-weekly - fortnightly - trip to garner victuals, pay bills, and other needs. As yet we have avoided catching the Covid 19 virus. At times such as these I am more than thankful for the sanctity of our two acre garden. It may be difficult to keep it looking as though 'someone' cared, but it does allow me to forget the daily concerns of infection: the needs and attention required by my dear Wife Pauline, and and still maintain my sensibility. A brief foray into the realms of MM has been a tonic to say the least, but....? Where to next?

I will wait to see what happens, as much depends upon the weather and how I can tackle the work ahead? Firstly with shoals of leaves falling all around I must blow and pile them for my compost heap. A much needed and essential resource for a garden established and located in very sandy and rocky soil, but I havwe truly enkjoyed the Challenge this presented me. However, I feel that my 25 year "work-in-retirement" project is slowly coming to a time when outside help will be essential and needed to keep it looking good. Finding someone willing - at any price - has not been very successful to date.

Leave it there for now. Catch you later. Rhymer aka Denis.

[JustDaniel]

Not sure why you didn't offer five new words, Denis. Actually wish you had, because I've been stumped ever since they were posted to come up with a mini-story with them! Believe me, there is NO LACK OF APPRECIATION for your stories here. Sylvia and I both love them! I am sorry that you've yet to find someone to help you with your huge magical garden, and of course we continue to pray for your dear wife and your increased concern for her.

I'm going to offer an attempt at something reasonable for these words, but "reasonable" will probably be a stretch!

robot
tentacles
crab
Borneo
Suez Canal
Euphrates
Egypt
archipelago
funeral
cushion

I've never had a dream about a ROBOT with TENTACLES nor even one of a CRAB with horrific, scary claws. I've also never been to BORNEO or even gone through the SUEZ CANAL or visited the EUPHRATES or even the pyramids in EGYPT, nor to any of several ARCHIPELAGOS, e.g. Scandinavia, Canada, Korea, S.E Asia, Great Britain or the Philippines, as I was not blessed with a history in the Navy, as Denis was.

But, even though I just reached 3/4 of a Century on Sunday, at least I have not had a FUNERAL as yet. So here I sit upon my CUSHON in my lounge chair with my laptop computer, pounding away at its keys to offer an inadequate attempt to keep this going.

tentacles
robot
funeral
archipelago
Euphrates
Panama Canal
Columbia
Hispanic
peninsula
silver

[Rhymer]

On awakening this morning, drawing back the blinds, I saw that overnight, a blast of colder air, the first Tentacles of Winter’s approach perhaps, had arrived and any hopes I had had of working in my garden this morn, were dashed and put on hold. Temporarily I hoped? Listening to hear what might be happening in the kitchen - my dear wife had already risen - my thoughts drifted aimlessly here, there and many places in between. Firstly my experience of my Grandfather’s Funeral, had brought me, as a mere lad of 11 years, to understand Life per se, had many moments that would both please and haunt. Today, some 80 years older, I now face the prospects of a lonely journey into their unknown. Drawing ever closer I’d leave the world and all its troubles behind me! More reason to make the most of what time is left me. Time perhaps to reflect further on what has gone before, compared with that of the present generation. In many ways,, my life is somewhat likened to a Peninsula, as I make my way, often stumbling, into the morass of newly found advances of today. However, there has been much I’ve learned. Such as the Hispanic culture of Columbia and Nicaragua. Visited on holiday occasions. I have also seen how Silver was mined from deep in the mountains close to Mexico City. Solely by dint of human labour, that possessed no machines to lighten their work! Pick axe and shovel their only tools! Followed by an overnight stay in a hotel that had originally been a Jesuit Nunnery. With so many happenings to witness, times were, I felt like a Robot at the end of day. More so after my flight over the Archipelago of Indonesia. In truth, I enjoy recalling times and events, stored in the dim recesses of my aged brain.
Do I have regrets? Of course, but life in the annals of time, is short. I would, had I the chance, to stand on the banks of the Euphrates, or sail through the Panama Canal, to add yet one more memory to my already burgeoning store.

Of late, it has been my greatest pleasure, to allow my mind to wander at will - thanks to words from folks, sight unseen - who have refreshed memories - long thought forgotten - by which I can relive events and happenings that took place earlier. Along with pleasure came grief, anger, sadness but overshadowing all - Love in abundance - that endowed me with understanding and appreciation of Life. All, in turn, have shaped my life - in unknown ways - to make me - I trust? Compassionate and knowing how Blessed I’ve been.

Panama Canal
Columbia
Hispanic
peninsula
silver
Nunnery
Reflections
Regrets
Pick Axe
Compassion

You've saved my day Daniel. It's cold, wet and un-gardenable! Lol. After a good night's sleep I am refreshed and ready to roll. Pleased you had another birthday bash despite the pandemic. Have some inside work I must attend to now. Ciao Denis.

[JustDaniel]

I'm very pleased that I "saved your day" Denis... in whatever way...

Panama Canal
Columbia
Hispanic
silver
regrets
nunnery
compassion
reflections
peninsula
pick axe

I may never reach the PANAMA CANAL, nor get any closer to COLUMBIA than the friends from there that I have met in the past several years, but I have constant HISPANIC influence in my home as I hear my daughter DoriAn speak on Facetime each day with her husband, Jose, in Mexico, as they impatiently await the scheduling of his hearing to enter the US, which was cancelled because of Covid-19. We still have not heard of a new date. Of course their son Dominic and daughter Gabriella are both citizens of both the US and Mexico... a kind of SILVER lining. Though things would have gone very differently for them had they left San Diego and gotten married in Mexico, I don't think they have REGRETS about being married among many of Jose's family here in the US. It's just that had they gone to Mexico, she'd have been able simply to bring her husband to the US afterwards!

Sometimes I think DoriAn feels like she lives in a NUNNERY, not being able to be with her husband, and that gives me a lot of COMPASSION for her. My thoughts now on the matter are REFLECTIONS of seeing Jose as isolated on a PENINSULA awaiting word to cross over... without using a PICK AXE to bash one of the border guards!

nunnery
reflections
regrets
pick axe
compassion
seat belt
restrictions
Appaloosa
meningitis
stromboli

[Rhymer]

nunnery
reflections
regrets
pick axe
compassion
seat belt
restrictions
Appaloosa
meningitis
Stromboli

One of my most pleasant time wasting passions, is to look at Reflections. Whether they be seen in a puddle, a stagnant backwater or wheresoever? They without Restrictions, allow me to visualise, in my imagination at least, Stromboli or the wide open Appaloosa Valley. By employing a little imagination, I transport myself into places such as the ruins of the old Nunnery, that stands like a silent sentinel upon a hilltop off the English, Dorset coast. With no need for plans nor Regrets I can travel wheresoever my imagination allows. I can, without need for a Seat Belt, travel to anyplace my fancy would take me. I often recall the Compassion of a stranger when I, in need of a bed for the night, offered me a berth in his country motel. My offer of recompense was taken as a slight upon his generosity, for which I apologized profusely. Later I recalled his deed and made amends by passing on his gift to a coloured labourer who, carrying his source of livelihood - a Pick Axe - had been denied a seat on the local bus to his chosen resting place for the night. A time when many low-paid workers, suffered the degradation afforded folks of colour, as though they suffered from Meningitis. Belittled by ignorance, such folks were found by me, to be far greater in stature, than many that besmirch their looks. Regretfully, such ignorance still remains rife today. Rhymer.

compassion
seat belt
restrictions
Appaloosa
Stromboli
Plasticity
Siberia
Opera
Mango
Porcupine.

[JustDaniel]

Appaloosa
seat belt
compassion
plasticity
restrictions
Siberia
mango
stromboli
opera
porcupine

Were I ever to ride an APPALOOSA, I'm sure that I'd need some kind of SEAT BELT, simply out of COMPASSION for me. My body has lost all of its PLASTICITY, so there would likely be some RESTRICTIONS about how fast I might go on the thing, and probably would have to stick to some prescribed trail.

I've never been to SIBERIA, but I'm betting that they don't have any MANGOS growing there, unless in a hot house. I'm also not sure that you'd find a restaurant that served STROMBOLI either, though it's likely that somewhere you'd be able to attend an OPERA, perhaps "Madame PORCUPINE?" Lightly, Daniel

plasticity
Siberia
opera
mango
porcupine
ocelot
timber line
windfall
wrestling match
marathon

[Rhymer]

A very interesting list of words, which one suspects is designed to bamboozle a would-be story raconteur or anecdotist perhaps, than someone trying to sew together a rational - even logical progressive tale. Nevertheless the Challenge is there and the words listed have for the moment caused me to consider in which way and manner I will approach my next composition? A Chapter, alone might not do justice to the listing, but here goes nothing. What have I to lose?
Firstly, although my wife and I do not live above the Timber Line, we have visited a community close to it. Quite a different view as one gets closer to the region. Very much as I would think Siberia would be. A place where many do not realise there are vast desert regions. Of course Windfall - be it fruit or merely fruiting trees, are a common sight, as is the Porcupine. But we are not privy to seeing Mango windfalls. Far too cold! A porcupine is a devilish marauder of pines in our area, but we have to live with them for they’re a protected species. We know this, but how does one inform the Ocelot this is so? Purely academic as such beasts as Ocelots are not native to our region or country. One word does stand out for me, inasmuch as I was, am and will always remain an Opera fan! One of our favourite evening entertainments, is watching from our video collection, hours of Operatic pleasure. Carmen, being one of our favourites. Beats watching the staged antics of a so-called Wrestling Match. Hocus Pocus! Firstly he’s winning, a minute later? He’s lost! But of all the words listed, that really ring a bell with me, is the word Marathon. Well you may ask why? It so happens a road race marathon was one in which I participated several times. Firstly whern attending school - I still hold the record time all these years later - and later when I served in the Royal Navy. A Half Marathon was a warming up and training practice for me most weeks. Umming up, all in all I would say that writing this Chapter or whatsoever it might be termed, shows I do possess s certain Plasticity in thought. Don’t you think? Moreover, I need no fabrication of details to fulfill the Challenge. All are taken from personal events: knowledge or attendant upon my longevity perhaps? Rhymer.

porcupine
ocelot
timber line
windfall
wrestling match
Doomsday
Magna Carta
Irish Sea
Chitlings
Splinter

[JustDaniel]

Magna Carta
doomsday
Irish Sea
ocelot
porcupine
wrestling match
splinter
windfall
timber line
chitterlings / chitlins

King John's MAGNA CARTA was offered to stave off the DOOMSDAY of a Barons War, but John never promised to sail the IRISH SEA nor ride an OCELOT nor sit on a PORCUPINE, nor even to enter into a WRESTLING MATCH with the priests or barons, lest he end up with a SPLINTER in his rump, which would have been a WINDFALL for the Barons, I suspect. It's rumored that after he signed the document, he hike up above the TIMBER LINE and pigged out on CHITLINS.

doomsday
Magna Carta
Irish Sea
chitlins
splinter
delicate
preposition
proposition
cracker barrel
rain barrel

[Rhymer]

When your disposition is in opposition to a proposed deposition, you must clarify it with a specific definition that clearly states your position regarding the proposition. Then with precision, the preposition added to the deposition will clarify it further. By doing so, perhaps your name will take a prominent position in the Magna Carta. You might even make the Doomsday Book - Late Edition - if you are so activated? Despite the supposition that it’s a malediction, or fanciful deposition bordering on fictitious perdition! Though a Delicate matter at best, I doubt it will be rewarded with Chitlings from a Cracker Barrel. In truth, chances are, all you’d gain would be a Splinter from your opening a Rain Barrel seen - rightfully so - floating in the Irish Sea. Rhymer.


delicate
preposition
proposition
rain barrel
Deposition
Duplication
Inspiration
Attic
Clogs
Gallows

[JustDaniel]

Love your first sentence, Denis!!

rain barrel
clogs
attic
duplication
delicate
deposition
gallows
preposition
inspiration
proposition
Inspiration

With all the rain that is spilling out of the RAIN BARREL, making it dangerous to walk by in CLOGS, I'm reminded that it's time I get out my umbrellas from the ATTIC, one to keep at my door and one to be in my car should I be caught in a downpour... no need to worry about DUPLICATION, since it's always nice to have them available, even though I'm not so DELICATE that I couldn't manage without one.

I've not received a DEPOSITION as yet for condemning some fellow writer to the GALLOWS for using the wrong PREPOSITION (which of course is always to be prepositioned in front of the phrase named for it) or for having little INSPIRATION obvious in his/her last poem. Just what kind of a PROPOSITION would that be?!

- Daniel

deposition
duplication
inspiration
attic
clogs
gallows
hedge shears
pitch fork
corn rows
maze

[Rhymer]

A Maze of Maize I have visited was found by me to be amazing! Patterned out of Corn Rows it was an Inspiration and a Duplication of the oldest and most famous of all that still exists today. Known as the Hampton Court Maze, it was planted on the orders of William The Conqueror, in1691 or thereabouts. Planted with Hornbeam it is Clipped annually by Hedge Shears, and its clippings are collected by Pitchfork and placed in an area that, by Deposition, was designated as well suited for such dross. In my Attic, I keep a picture of the Maze as seen from the air, along with a pair of Clogs - mere memorabilia - as well as a number of macabre pictures of the Tyburn Gallows. One has to get their ‘jollies’ somehow! No? Rhymer.

hedge shears
pitch fork
corn rows
maze
deposition
Macabre
Withy Bed
Beech Nuts
Bolster
Amazon