Times 10 challenge, Sapphires Short story Options

[JustDaniel]

gambling
turkey
bologna
tuna fish
spice rack
processing
Seychelles
squid
forecastle
deadlights

I'm afraid it would be reckless GAMBLING on my part, Denis, to put TURKEY, BOLOGNA and TUNA FiSH all in the same hoagie roll... plus I'd likely have to cut it into four separate sandwiches just to be able to ingest it at one sitting anyhow! And no matter what items you utilize from the SPICE RACK in PROCESSING a meal from SEYCHELLES SQUID, you will not be able to get me to eat it, even if you were to offer to serve it to me on an elegantly-covered, cantle-lit table that you set for me with your best, polished silver tableware in the FORECASTLE with magnificent rays of the sun filtering through the un-shuttered DEADLIGHTS, thank you!

squid
Seychelles
gambling
deadlights
forecastle
underbelly
whitewash
barnacles
tar
landlubber

[Rhymer]

How quickly one’s life can change when fate or circumstances dictate! From a naïve 17 year old working on a mixed farm - feeding Holsteins, Whitewashing stables: tarring chicken coops, along with all manner of menial farm tasks, to a few weeks later, when I, a dyed in the wool Landlubber, had taken my first steps on a life of being a world traveller. From tarring I would soon be known as a Tar. A life that for the next seventy years would be one full of interesting and fascinating experiences. From cleaning chicken coops I went to scraping Barnacles from a ship’s Underbelly - known as its Hull. Cleaning salt from Deadlights, which were kept tightly closed as we sailed - as slow 4 knots - down the Suez Canal in 1951, until we reached the Red Sea. Daytime heat was oppressive and yet, the cool of the night was denied us for times were tense and fraught with danger. Egyptians fired at us from behind sand dunes. A time when tensions were high back then. However, once free from the restrictions this brought us, like many of my shipmates, I later partook of a trip few others could enjoy.

In the calm, warm waters, of the Red Sea I saw all manner of sea life, never seen before. Squid and Jelly Fish - they look benign but can prove deadly to the unwary. Flying fish with over ambitious ideas, that would fly out of the sea, headlong into the side of our Carrier - and flop back into the salty waters - some too dazed to recover, Standing occasionally at the Forecastle rail - when permitted - to breathe in the hot desert breeze , was quite the change from the icy cold Atlantic gale force winds, which kept us below decks as we had left Glasgow, to sail through the Irish Sea on our three week trip to Singapore which we had undertaken that October morning. One taken to replenish needed arms and ammunition, and provide air support for our ground troops fighting in the foreign fields of Malaya and Korea.

On our way East, we side stepped the Seychelles, but called in at places such as Gibraltar and the Island of Malta GC., that was awarded ths medal for the heroism as it’s inhabitants, as they defied Mussolini’s futile attempts to bomb them into submission, and surrendering during WW II. Then Suez, Aden and Ceylon as it ws known back then in 1951. Stopping to deliver and collect supplies, we were allowed a few hours of off duty, to go ashore. In Malta my mess mates and I enjoyed the best Pancakes (flapjacks) I have ever eaten. These were our breakfast, sampled in a small kerbside ‘eatery’ - situated on the sidewalk of Strait Street.

My mess mates - known as “Oppos*” in naval slang back then and I “pigged out” on a double helping (6)! - The taste of which, has never been matched at any time since, and lingers as a fond memory some seventy years later! However, unlike cruise ships on which I have sailed several since, Gambling was not allowed - it was a punishable offence to do so, but we could play card games such as Euchre - I was a dab hand at same. And some evenings - Tombola - the Navy’s name for what today is known as Bingo. A small prize was allowed to be given the lucky winner - I received my fair share of same, for I seemed to be blessed by good fortune when playing. In truth, Dame Good Fortune has been my constant and faithful companion for much of my life. Deserved or not, I have never refused her offerings when presented me.

Perhaps one of the most remembered event of my three week trip to Singapore was our Carrier heaving to in the Indian Ocean, when off duty ship\s crew were allowed to swim in same, as rifle toting seamen, circled swimmers. Seated at the ready in the ship’s Whalers - as lifeboats were so named - they kept a wary eye open for sharks. A much needed precaution. In Aden our soccer team had swum off the beach for a cooling moment, after playing a friendly game of soccer against the RFR Black Ranger’s team - a Royal Fleet Reserve, RN Supply ship manned by civilian seamen. The game had taken place in Crater City - so named as it was situated in the crater of an extinct volcano - you would never know it, where the dry heat temperature, registered over 100 degrees F! Going for a swim later to cool and recoup our energies,was a delight until we discovered the steel, anti-shark net - actually an abandoned anti-submarine net - had been severely damaged, and sharks had indeed found the huge gaping hole! Some had swum through! No need to be told “no social distancing” then! It was every man for himself and Lord help those that lagged behind!
* Oppos? Short for Opposites, as we would stand ‘facing opposite’ one another, in order to protect each other’s back from any possible attack.

No, I never got to the Seychelles, but I have visited many islands around the world during my lifetime. Along with numerous countries, Customs and sights I have witnessed, have always been found fascinating and interesting, inasmuch, as they allow me to witness, how others live and go about their daily routines. Religions, ceremonies and even their ‘food’ for survival which has been developed, from climate, and availability, may seem peculiar, even hilarious, alien to me a stranger, but they always make for some interesting, even fascinating moments and adventures - if one allows! So ends another Chapter from me. Denis.

gambling
deadlights
forecastle
underbelly
whitewash
hogwash
rudder
oars
Martins
hearse

[JustDaniel]

gambling
forecastle
deadlights
whitewash
underbelly
hogwash
hearse
oars
rudder
martins

Obviously none of you were GAMBLING there in the FORECASTLE by the light of the DEADLIGHTS, but of course you have to WHITEWASH some of the language that must have been exchanged between some from the UNDERBELLY of society that shared the space with the rest of you. And likely during those conversations, a good deal of HOGWASH was also contributed, I’m sure.

One question, Denis: When he considers the end of his life, does an old tar dream of a floating HEARSE without OARS or RUDDER, escorted only by disoriented MARTINS?

hogwash
rudder
oars
Martins
hearse
kindergarten
knickers
swollen
panorama
noodles

[Rhymer]

Hogwash? You betcha! I’ve just read shoals of it! My answer is, to say as politely as good manners allow - Knickers!

Trying to write a Mini Story with this kind of response, is like trying to entertain a moronic Kindergarten kid with a swollen ego. One who grabs the Oars, and tries to steer a boat without a Rudder, by following disoriented Martins floundering lost, in the garbage of the Sargasso Sea whirlpool! A Panorama - akin to a mess of Noodles boiling in a Minestrone Stew! Better this Story is put to rest, before the final remnants of sanity are lost. Seemingly the humane action to take? As we do so, we can visualise the Grim Reaper - who carries a deadlight, that once covered the Porthole of Sanity - before the good ship, Common-sense, was scuppered and abandoned! Henceforth all your pain is ended, for I see the Hearse has arrived! With the Last Rites pronounced, I‘ll end my Eulogy and slip quietly away, having witnessed its death despite all attempts of resuscitation! Ergo, its misery is ended for I hear the silent thundering of one-handed clapping, as I leave you to celebrate your joyful grief! Sayonara, Rhymer.

[JustDaniel]

Good grief, Denis!

I'm simply not the story-teller that you are. I have not been everywhere in the world and have not done exciting things. I'd spent my early career with a young congregation and a raft of street people for 8 1/2 years, and then a house full of addicts for 15 years and then individuals and families with mental illness for another 16. Not the stuff of great stories, my friend.

I'd taken, for some time, Sylvia's call for mini-stories as a fun activity in which to utilize a list of 10 words into some kind of semblance of a story, whether serious or humorous... and most of the time I've attempted to be humorous.

I'm deeply sorry that somehow I've offended your sensibilities by not responding to your sweeping stories (which have always fascinated me, and which I have loved) with mundane tongue-in-cheek nonsense, though occasionally a genuine story, spawned by one of yours! It's who I am. It's not about you. I have limitations which I wish you'd respect.

Please lighten up, and let's continue, PLEASE? Just add 5 Words to the list, and we'll move on, okay? No Goodbyes! You've given me something special to look forward to every couple of days! (... and obviously, Sylvia loves your stories even MORE than I do!) All I provide is a little amusement occasionally.

respectfully, Daniel

[Psyche]

Hi Daniel and Denis, both of you write excellent stories. I enjoy them but don't always have time to write my own.
Daniel, from what you say, you've plenty life experiences to write about. Fact is, a lot of my poetry is about lost loved ones. My two sons, my Dad and my late husband. I have poems on dementia and schizophrenia. It was therapeutical to write those horribly sad experiences.
Perhaps I'll post them here, fitting in the words you two provide after your fantastic stories.

Let there be peace, Sylvia

[Rhymer]

I have a reply that will be posted as and when I can. On another computer but? Lightning took the computer out and a uet I am unable to post. All manner of problems have resulted from our first real rain in over a month, but what a mess it has made of my computer and work in progress. Six hours already spent and have got no where fast!

I agree Sylvia re the therapeutic value of poetry. With poems - around 5,000 - I have covered many sad moments. I also need to know how one posts poetry on this site, other than starting another Challenge. Denis.

[Rhymer]

Having had a second look at the ten words you listed which, when first read, I regarded as insulting for they had no bearing on anything gone before. Wrongly or rightly matters not, but your reply also came at a bad time. We had been hit with a storm - lightning had disabled my computer - still limping along even now, and I have no longer, the ability to sort same quickly! Thanks to several factors. However I am still of the opinion that with a little thought and consideration - on your part Daniel - you could write something more in line with the theme of the Mini Story. Much better than you did and do! However I’ll not dwell on this any further. Maybe I’m too particular about language, to allow myself the pleasure of writing, as I normally do, but as for lightening up? All who know me, know my sense of humour is what has and continues to sustain me, despite life’s problems and unwanted happenings that come my way. Especially yesterday!

To detour for a moment, let me go on record in telling you that ‘language’ per se, has frequently had a beneficial effect on my life and the road I followed. Some purely by happenstance. Some by deliberate choosing. My life was changed early - I was 10 years old at the time - when an astute village teacher Miss Miller, during WW II - saw possibilities, not even I had not seen nor realised I could achieve. Thanks to her, my expected road in life was reviewed and changed completely! It’s thanks to her also that I have enjoyed 90 years of life and living. Meeting folks of influence in circumstances never once envisaged. Few people realise how much of their personality is clearly evident in their speech and writings. To me writing is a form of ‘body language’ which gives others an insight into the ‘inner’ person behind the written word. A most sobering thought, for this trait - along with the ability to “read” a person’s ‘vibes’ at a first meeting' allows me to sense their ‘aura’ which I regard a blessing, for it has served me well over the years - especially so when I ran my Landscape Gardening business. It saved me from getting ‘shafted’ on several occasions!

My Naval career - such as it was, for I seldom ‘bend’ to any authority, without I can see a rationale or reason, for the implementation of orders they give. Nonetheless my seven plus years were exciting, informative and eye opening in many respects. I had dealings with Top Officials - although they knew nothing of me personally. I was often called upon to draught letters to the likes of World Leaders such as Charles de Gaulle, Winston Churchill - even your own Dwight Eisenhower! All were frequently on the list of recipients. I, was a junior member of the Fedsec - Far East Defence Secretariat - in charge of the 22 Member, Inter Service Typing Pool - with Inter Service Members,that were billeted in FarElf - Far East Land Forces - Tanglin Barracks located on the outskirts of Singapore. My security designation - higher than Top Secret - gave me access to information, most of the UK Parliament and the US Congress and their like - many Members of which, never got to read! It was certainly a time that opened my eyes to Politicos and Politics in general. One certainly gets to understand the workings dealings of Diplomats and Government works, and how the ‘wording’ of a Decree or Fiat can mean something completely averse to what the average reader gleans from their reading.

Perhaps this brief explanation will give you some indication, as to why I find words such as you added to your response, can seem pointless - even asinine at times? Even insulting. Lighten up? Maybe I fear losing what I have enjoyed for 80 plus years? The joy of reading and composing. I was always reading whenever opportunity was offered me. I have thousands of books lining my shelves - more so than many libraries. This after giving away a few thousand. A passion which I could enjoy all the more, once I taught myself speed reading! Today? Regretfully a pastime in which I can no longer indulge! To be honest, I have tried on numerous occasions to ‘give away’ my books, rather than know they’ll end up in the incinerator or landfill when I die! Rhymer.

[JustDaniel]

Heavens! I just wrote three paragraphs and the computer swallowed it up!!

I appreciate your words of encouragement, Sylvia, and your lengthy explanation, Denis... both of you!

Let me do a bit of explaining myself. I also have a several thousand volume library -- all boxed up in the attic of our (now) rental property in Bridgeton, NJ where we lived for 16 years. They were boxed from my library at Barnabas House, and and there they sit in the hot and cold of the attic. I've given some of them away, but with the penchant of so many to do most of their reading digitally these days, even GIVING AWAY a theological library is difficult! Not only do we not have a place to display the books here in Vineland, but they're almost useless to me now because of my eyesight. (I'm even beginning to have days when things are too blurry for me to read on the computer. I wish I knew if there were some way enlarge the type here on MM!

In regard to what you said, Denis, about our writing being a kind of body-language of our personality, you're so right. And MY writing is filled with plays on words and humor, which reflect a significant piece of WHO I AM. My email name even contains the word "punditty." I do write serious things, but often they are tinted with humor, and some things that I write I designate as "serious humor" because beneath the humor on the surface of those poems is a serious message. And I DON'T WRITE PROSE, so any entrance into the mini-stories is ALWAYS a challenge for me. But I've NEVER taken it seriously, right from the beginning, so PLEASE forgive me for SEEMING to be "asinine" in some of the things I've written.

For a couple of years, the basement here (as I call it) was occupied ONLY by myself and Larry, with a few visitors dribbling in only occasionally. The two of us wrote silly and serious responses to each other's poems, challenging each other to write in quite a number of poetic forms, usually requiring each other to use something from the END of our poem to become the BEGINNING of the next poem. That in itself was a challenge, and it was often difficult to come up with anything serious because of that requirement. Occasionally we surprised each other with what could have been posted in the threads up top for critique... and we did a few times, but there's no one there to critique them. We simply enjoyed writing for the sake of practicing our skills, OFTEN FRIVOLOUSLY.

SOooo, Denis, before you joined me and Sylvia (who showed up about the time Larry disappeared without a trace) there was a long history of my being silly and asinine. NOTHING that I have done has been to insult or demean anything that you've written. I love your serious writes, and occasionally i have tried to follow them with something equally serious.

HOWEVER, sometimes the words and previous story that you offered made it impossible to write something serious, simply because you were in a vein that my life-experience left me totally cold and empty. I had nothing serious to follow up with, so I became silly and fanciful. It was my only option... except to not write anything. But if I wrote NOTHING, I would have nothing to look forward to in YOUR stories!

I hope that clarifies things, Denis. I WANT you to write your stories, including following up the previous one (where YOU left off), since I sometimes simply cannot follow up your entry with a continuation. I don't have life-experience in the milieu in which you usually write. So please just allow me to write about WHATEVER, incorporating your words in whatever fanciful way that I can. And the words that I offer you are NOT to be insulting. They're merely a CHALLENGE to think outside the box to include them somehow in your story. That's the history between me and Larry. We often ended our poems with lines that purposely made it difficult for the other to start OUR poem. It was a challenge, and we OFTEN met it with humor... and occasionally our outside-the-box thinking created something artistic! Feel free to take a look in the Poetic Forms section to see our lengthy interactions!

deLighting to anticipate your next stories! (both of you!) - Daniel

[Psyche]

I have a reply that will be posted as and when I can. On another computer but? Lightning took the computer out and a uet I am unable to post. All manner of problems have resulted from our first real rain in over a month, but what a mess it has made of my computer and work in progress. Six hours already spent and have got no where fast!

I agree Sylvia re the therapeutic value of poetry. With poems - around 5,000 - I have covered many sad moments. I also need to know how one posts poetry on this site, other than starting another Challenge. Denis.

Hi Denis, if you want to post your poetry, you have two main choices, form and FV. You'll see them at the top of the website. For shorter forms, such as Chinese or maybe cinquains, there's a forum lower down. I hope your computer is fixed. I always turn off the mains during storms, rain or any sort of bad weather. Don't you have the drop down power interrupter? You can go out and feel sure that your electrical system is always safe.
All the best, Sylvia

[JustDaniel]

Great ideas (for Denis), Sylvia. Maybe ALL THREE of us can post up top there and comment on each others' works. Who knows, maybe someone else will drop in! Let me know (either of you) if you post up there. Haven't looked in a LONG time!

In the meantime, hoping either of you will post another bit of a STORY with the last 10 words... and give us 5 new ones for another 10-word list. I'm chompin' at the bit.

Love in Light, Daniel

[Rhymer]

Hopefully a reply! Hopefully as my computer was affected by a lightning strike earlier this week. I am resurrecting an old computer that has Internet but no e-mail. Very slow and somewhat akin to me inasmuch as it is loaded with older versions of programmes. It is only able to handle anything at a slow rate. With the virus pandemic I cannot get an 'expert' to come see and repair, so my computer days are further complicated. Have hopes I can get on line help later, but the weekend ws a Holiday here in Canada. No one works except folks like me, I am struggling to get a bench shelter finished before I go completely blind. Pauline can no longer use a computer, and of late, life has been a struggle to survive in many ways. I fear her trouble - early dementia - is going to be more than I can handle! Never gave a thought to what life might serve us when we reached this 90 plus age. Okay: no more excuses. Keep tuned - I might get lucky- doubt it. My positivism is slowly becoming a time of despair! Without my Loving Lass, I am nothing! Sorry folks but this is likely full of errors, but please excuse same. One bright note - it rained gently for much of the night. We've sufferedsevere drought conditions for over a month and maybe today I can forget watering all the flowers I planted for the girl of my dreams, who, like me, really loves to walk the garden and enjoy what Mother Nature gives us - when we can keep the weeds at bay! Fondest regards to you both Sylvia and Daniel. Rhymer aka Denis.

[Rhymer]

Mini story chapter.

My life has been a journey, in which I have been blessed with all manner of pleasures, tempered with periods of sadness, when the unexpected has taken place. Times such as the death of my Grandfather when I was but a lad. However having said thus, I have a few humourous moments with which I can relate some of the words - a mish-mash that may require some fine tuning - even manipulation to fit the Mini Story intent.

Hogwash? The meaning to most is clear, however, incidents do come to mind, of a time when Derek - a young student, came under my wing, as he had expressed a love of farming, and had a career in same. Of course, he had to start with the lowest of tasks, to work his way up. No problem as he was a keen lad, though like many of his age, naive and over-eager at times. I was the Farm Manager, on whose shoulders rested the everyday running of the farm. A mixed farm of chickens, pedigree Ayrshires - herd of 120 animals- half of which were ‘milkers’ as we termed them. We also raised 200 beef animals - a mix of breeds, but mainly Herefords that were quartered in a divided, huge covered barn, and pigs. Again a mix of breeds. Most people have no idea how intelligent pigs are. They possess great memories, so when, one day, a couple ‘porkers’ escaped their - what we thought Safe enclosure, I mustered the farm employees to corner said miscreants, and usher them back to where they belonged. All went well - at first. We knew that should we not see their escape route they would seize the chance to return without being hauled squealing and snorting, ignominiously back. Derek stationed himself in a ‘mucky’ ditch that ran alongside the road that passed their quarters. Rounded up, two pigs came hurling down the road, into the ditch, faster than the flying Scotsman.
On spying Derek blocking their road, one went to his right and the other? Straight through his legs! Derek did a good imitation of a flying Dutchman! Diving at the pig, he landed face down in a mix of pig manure, mud and goodness only knows what else! Farm ditches are rather like that! Pigs safely back, we hosed him down and sent him back home to change! He had a twenty minute motor scooter ride to get home for this. No, it was not Hogwash, but it sure smelt like it! Incidentally, it wasn’t the only time he had to return home to get changed. The second time was when he had the misfortune to fall into a midden (containment of fresh manure) of ‘slops’ and ended up a greatly changed man! It was Spring, and the morass of collected cow manure, had a definite tinge of green to it. After that happening, he kept a change of clothes in his saddle bag. Just in case!

One of my friends in the village of Chesilborne, next to the Hamlet where I lived, was Hubert Haslar. His father was the local taxi driver. When Hubert reached the age of 18, his father bought him a rather ancient, retired Hearse for his birthday. After collecting this ancient relic, Hubert decided he wanted to show it off, and collecting me and a few others - we were a fearless lot - we went through the village to show off his ‘car’ and brag! Of course it had very limited seating capacity, being fitted out for carrying a coffin, for which it was designed, than live passengers. So off we went with Ivor and Leslie squatting on the coffin location. Let your imagination picture the scene! Word had it that after we’d been up and down the village street, several villagers suffered panic attacks, and vehemently asserted they had seen corpses moving! It was a few days before that little escapade was sorted, and I believe, there were some who never were convinced of the truth!

The remaining words? Yes I can tell more than one tale of Knickers - humourous to the reader, but not so, to those affected. Even myself when I, playing soccer in FarELF - Navy cays - jumped over a fence to retrieve the soccer ball, but lost my 'knickers' on a barbed wire fence. Spectators thought it hilarious. All that covered me, was confusion and embarrassment!
Swollen? Yes, in retrospect, it had its light hearted side, but it was the time when I was badly stung on my navel? Swollen not laughable, was the dominant word. Four days before I could do up my pants!

Oars, Rudder? Both were associated with my first ‘learning’ of how to row a Whaler boat. In our Part I Naval training, recruits had to learn how to row a boat. A lifeboat was termed a Whaler. Assigned a Coxswain , and we were launched onto the Tamar river in Eastern Cornwall. A crew of neophytes - most of whom were East Londoners - had never ever held an oar, nor knew the first thing about rowing. Moving into the flow of the river, we headed downstream, trying to handle a large oar flailing the waters, we travelled a long way, until we had reached the estuary! Then realisation struck our Coxswain! We were about a mile, maybe more, and headed out to sea, without a clue as to how we could get back to the base - HMS Raleigh! Coast Guard saw our plight and rang the Base, who in turn sent a Cutter speeding down to our rescue. A tow rope attached, we were towed back to our jetty where our embarrassed ‘crew’ was subjected to a chorus of jeers and ribald laughter by the other Whaler that had taken the upstream course, and had returned to the jetty without need of a tow! Our Coxswain was relieved of his duties - tout suite!

As for Martins? My mind shifts to the folks I knew as The Martins. A modest family Mr. Martin a devote Christian as long as he was receiving, but, when it came to giving? A far different story! Suddenly his thinking was that Charity begins at home, and although he’d love to donate, circumstances were hard at the moment, and he really had nothing to spare. He’d offer time to help, but this too was always booked solid. Rather typical of a certain breed we can find everywhere.
As for Noodles? Nothing I can write here comes to mind other than to say, I’ve had ‘oodles of noodles: a Panorama of Noodles if you prefer, but they’re not really my forte. Father always regarded them as ‘belly-fill’ somewhat akin to poorly made suet dumplings - a common ingredient in country meals when they often took the place of potatoes. Nevertheless, a Dumpling made as Mother made them, was a gourmet treat for this growing lad! As she’d say, this will ‘stick to your ribs!’ Another 'form' of dumpling was the Suet Pudding she boiled in the laundry copper - no saucepan big enough to boil it until cooked! Eaten with a liberal basting of Treacle - Golden Syrup- the name under which it was sold! It was a dessert to die for! Plain or full of raisins, it was one of my favourites!

Now for five words more. How about I give you 5 new words here, and you choose which of the original ten you use? A cop-out on my part, maybe, but I’m having a rough time with my computer right now, and it takes forever to get into MM and post. If this fails to get posted? You’ll never know what I have written, and I will have wasted my time as well. For now. Fondest regards. Bonne chance. Rhymer.

Friends
Horse(s)
Pastor
Services
Pastimes.

[JustDaniel]

kindergarten
friends
knickers
pastimes
panorama
services
pastor
swollen
noodles
horse

Wow! Quite a story, Denis! I'm so sorry for what you're going through, not only with your computer, but also your eyesight (I'm fearing the possible loss of my own, because in the past few months it's become, for reading, almost always blurry, so that I have to tip my head from side to side and/or squint sometimes to read, and I often have to use a magnifying glass to read some details. It has become very frustrating, but not likely as severe an issue as I am gathering your eyesight is. I'm also SO very sorry about the situation with your lovely bride. I can only begin to appreciate the worries that you might have for her and for yourself as her disease progresses, in caring for her, or in not being able to care for her. My heart goes out to you, Dear One!

Well, the words take me back to my first school experience, and my KINDERGARTEN class were among the very first students at Fawcett School, which I think is no more than a mile from where we lived in Tacoma, WA. My older sister Linda went from a school where our Uncle Wes was the big deal as a sixth grader at Sheridan School, and he could show off his niece in kindergarten to all of his FRIENDS, to her now being in the very first first grade class at Fawcett. It was a big deal for her, and it was a scary thing for me, to be walking home from school by myself. It seemed so far away, and I was a loner. Lind must have walked home with me most of the time, but my memory gives me nothing of that... only of occasionally being able to stop at Mrs. Pitches store, at the corner where we headed down the hill to home, to buy some penny candy, or even a nickel candy bar! That was a real treat, though not one we had often. In the warmer months I do recall wearing shorts to school, but I'd never even heard of KNICKERS back then.

When I got home from school, my PASTIMES consisted of sucking my thumb and playing with small toys, usually alone in my bedroom. Don't remember much from those days. I discovered much later in my life that my thumb-sucking was a great deal like the medication Versed (ver-said), a synthetic valium, that is given intravenously before major surgery. It relaxes the patient and allows them to communicate with the doctor during surgery, if necessary. Side effect: absolutely no memory of anything that took place before the IV is stopped! That is exactly what sucking my thumb did to me. When it was in my mouth, my brain recorded nothing. No memory of a huge part of my growing up till I stopped sucking it at age 13 in the 7th grade, because I was afraid that my English/History teacher would discover that I sucked my thumb! My parents had tried dozens of ways to get me to stop, but absolutely nothing worked. But suddenly I stopped cold, and a whole new PANORAMA of noises and household goings on opened up to me, including my sisters' playing of the then new rock-and-roll music. It drove me crazy (though I like what was then being played, today!), simply because previously I simply didn't hear it. I developed then the habit of getting up very early in the morning to do my homework, sitting in front of the wood stove downstairs, in the quiet with nothing and no one to disturb me. I was usually done before breakfast, when everyone else showed up (by then, including three sisters and two brothers. (Others came later.)

In my earlier years I do recall going to Sunday school and worship SERVIVES regularly, and I recall our PASTOR, Dr. Roy T. Brumbaugh, and his passion both to clearly teach the truth of the Bible, and also to reach out others outside of the church with the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and in particular to the military community. Every Sunday there would be more than a hundred soldiers in attendance from Ft. Lewis. Especially in the evening services, for some reason, the church attendance would be SWOLLEN by their presence.

When I was growing up, the only NOODLES I recall came in the form of spaghetti, which we would have abut once per week, and macaroni, which we often had in a beef broth with little meatballs or just broken up cooked hamburger. That would become in my college years a staple for me in the times when I was living on my own, or was somewhere when I had to do my own cooking. I don't think I've ever mentioned that all my life I was considered to be bow-legged. I looked as though I'd spent a lot of time riding on HORSES, which I had not. My sister Linda, however, loved them, and when she left our home before her junior year in high school (where I had expected her to be my guide when I entered my sophomore year at Lincoln HS). Thus she ended up living at the home of the owner of B&B Riding Stables in a nearby community and a different school... and then lived with my paternal grandmother and went to the brand new Mt. Tahoma HS for her senior year. I, by the way, was technically NOT bow-legged. I was severely pigeon-toed, so that I would trip over my own feet when younger. I consciously taught myself to turn my feet outward when I walked to that they pointed straight ahead. The effect of doing that (Turn you own feet outward, and you will see what happens to your knees) wat that my knees bowed outward when I walked and ran. When I ran (I was anchor man on the mile relay team that broke the City of Tacoma's record by 3.6 seconds), they said that I looked like a spider! I had a huge stride that I'd developed, and that accented that appearance even more.

Well, enough of me. It's time for more from either Sylvia or Denis... or from whomever may drop in on these basement-dwellers. Here are the 10 word with which you may play however you like (with my adding 5 new words):

friends
horse
service
pastor
pastimes
galoshes
pepperoni
galivant
symposium
ceiling fan

[Rhymer]

Life goes on Daniel and I take each day as it comes. Some good, some not so good, but never a truly ‘bad’ day whilst I have the love of my life - my wife - to share the memories we have made and enjoy together every night as we sit and reminisce, or - most nights - watch British TV series - I have masses of tapes and DVD’s - all of which we have seen before, but still give us a lot of pleasure - without adverts I hasten to add! Series like Morse, or Inspector Frost - presently, Monarch of the Glen (Scottish Highland drama) that remind us of our earlier days. Even old Benny Hill videos who was also popular in the USA almost as much as the UK. As for my approach to life today? Better one bends with the wind and compromises, rather than one tries to resist it, and gets bowled over! Rightly or wrongly, that’s my personal philosophy since the deterioration of Pauline’s memory bank. Her smile when I crack a joke, means more to me than wealth!

So to firstly comment on your last Chapter. Despite our different backgrounds, I think we have much more in common than is evident at first glance. The biggest difference that I note has been my travels. That and the fact I had only one sister - still living in Dorset UK. A mere slip of a lass - three years younger than myself, I was always her knight in shining (tad rusty now) armour, inasmuch as I used to get her out scrapes whenever needed! I was kept busy! Lol.

I will admit that your account of your early days, raised many memories for me. This has to be one of the most important - even essential truths of growing old(er). My dreams are full of such moments. Some are positively bizarre when viewed in the cold light of day, but 90% of my dreams involved loved ones, who have passed on., Folks I trust my ‘spirit; will meet in a place, humans cannot visit when alive! Religion? Despite being a choir boy” church warden and bell ringer, I regret to say, that my experiences in life, when coupled with a somewhat cynical ‘questioning’ approach to edicts and decrees, that categorically state a ‘fact’, brings out the ‘who says so?’ attitude in me. Known as the Devil’s Advocate by many, it has always been my way. Led to some interesting results at times, when I along with a good friend, woud argue such matters with Priests of all denominations. Many we would refer to as "Dominators!” Some would get the subtle difference, others? Too stuck in their bigoted views and doctrine to allow for any departure. My favourite ploy was to bring their attention to the wars and conflicts that, throughout history, have been waged under the guise of Religion. Still are when you look at the world turmoil today. No I’m not going there again, but find thre is and has been so much in my life, that firstly brought me to consider what was being ‘fed’ me, then what other explanation might there be? I cannot explain some happenings in my own life, which have been a sign of another ‘world’, but I do have witnesses to happenings I’ve experienced, that brought complete amazement to the witnesses! On occasion, I have described “places” I have never visited in this life! For example Puerto Rico, when we first went there - down to the last exact detail, of the city area we were visiting. Familiar in many ways, one has to question What? Why? and How? Never found an explanation yet that satisfies my ever questioning mind! The spirit ives on, is the best explanation I can give anyone, but proof> Sorry no can do! But I blether on again - it is also a trait in which I love to indulge - in cae you hadn’t noticed? Lol. I will leave you to read and perhaps ‘ponder’ over this small detour from the intent of the Mini Story. Will attend to the next Chapter later. I have to get after the authorities to repair my E-mail account. I have to rely solely on this connection, to contact all or anyone. 2 days ago they promised me they would get back to me with good news! Their idea of 25 minutes and mine is somewhat different! I wonder what time zone they might be in? For now Take care: stay safe and think deeply on the state of the world today. It’s one helluvah mess! Denis. PS: If perchance I used any of your ten words? Purely happenstance! Just hope what I've written here, makes sense? Ciao Rhymer.

[Rhymer]

When sitting with Friends, my wife and I, often reminisce on Pastimes and past times. Of days gone by when many folks wore Galoshes to Gallivant around the countryside - it being the “In” fashion when I was a kid! Times when our Pastor came to hold the Church Service on a Sunday riding his Horse. My father was a Groom/Gardener and had twelve “Hunters” as we termed them - in his care. Thoroughbreds in North American parlance. Later our Vicar or Pastor rode a bicycle as cars were not as common as today. It so happened, Fate de4creed his demise would be by a tragic bicycle accident. This, one Sunday, when on his way to our village to conduct the Service. Losing control down a sharp slope in the village, he plunged into the stream at the bottom. Knocked unconscious, he was later discovered, drowned in about six inches of water! His replacement - successor, the Reverent Ramm - two “Ms” please - would Gallivant all over the parish, trying to convert Chapel Folks - his story - to the C of E creed. Most villagers thought it a cunning ploy on his part, to enjoy free meals - country folks are very suspicious of folks who step outside their ‘safe’ circle, especially at meal times. With a village mix that was fast changing when I was a lad, meals could be a anything from Spaghetti to Pepperoni spiced meals or simply nothing more than scrag-end of ?whatever?! Few would turn away a hungry man, but his hunger was one that was seldom satisfied! His son Malcolm was a schoolmate of mine for a couple of years. When his father was moved to another parish. He would often joke about his father’s trait of being invited to enjoy a light repast! Rev Ramm, incidentally was about 125lbs overweight! As the local parishioner Symposium and the Women’s Institute, that met monthly in the village hall, to discuss what next? (Their men folk termed it the time to 'spread the dirt!') Being Ideally suited for gossip mongering, anyone not present, could easily be the next topic under discussion! Gossip was easily spread as the Members gathered in Committee, caressed by the Ceiling Fan. A time and place where rumours were discussed at length, and spread! Many Members thought his ‘prominent’ stature was plainly, “Proof of the many puddings” he’d eaten!. Rhymer.

horse
service
pastimes
galoshes
wellspring
gaiters
symposium
threshing
stable
cemetery

Hopefully this will widen your scope/horizons. Denis.

[JustDaniel]

gaiters
symposium
wellspring
threshing
service
horse
stable
galoshes
pastimes
cemetery

It sounds as if the lady GAITERS at the village church's Women's SYMPOSIUM produced a WELLSPRING of thorough THRESHINGS of the Rev. Ramm. Did he ever come to conduct a SERVICE at your HORSE STABLE. There, I'm sure your crew would be readily able to feed him... a bunch of crap till it started flowing over his GALOSHES, given their PASTIMES. He'd soon be taking refuge in the church CEMETARY!

wellspring
gaiters
threshing
cemetery
ceiling fan
Pomeranian
sump pump
genealogical
serendipity
shopping list

[Rhymer]

Getting water from the village well which was truly the Wellspring of water, news and gossip, all carried out under the guise of drawing water from the deep - 60 feet down - mid-village well. Many a time I have drawn water for my much loved Grandparents, who were in my eyes at least - ancient but incredibly generous folks. It was a gathering place for all manner of folks. Some would be dressed in clothes that signalled their profession. Gaiters for example, like my father wore, meant either a Carter or Groom. A Badge of Profession if you like. Many general farm workers wore them too. Especially great for Threshing. They prevented mice crawling up your pant legs - had it happen to me several times - I never wore gaiters.
Today should I take a trip down memory lane and visit the many graves in the Cemetery, I can easily relate to the Genealogical connections so many villagers possessed with my family. Nearly all were large families those days. The Bere’s took the crown with 22 children! Close behind was another - The Cutlers with 18! Ours was small in comparison - only 9! My Uncles and Aunts. Father was number 4. Christened Henry Thomas his brother - born the same year, was christened Thomas Henry! A little unintentional humour perhaps? To me our family was the epitome of perfection. Truly a Serendipity - a Haven if you like - where we youngsters bonded and became strong and resilient! 10 at the time it stands me in good stead even today - 80 years on!

If there is anything I would add to my Shopping List of life, it would be to have a day such as I enjoyed all those years ago, when I, a mere 10 year old lad. The closest I can come to this Utopian idyllic happening, was when I returned in 1998 to revisit the village in which I was born. Many changes, as expected. The Church? Electricity had been installed and Ceiling fans wafted overhead. A Sump Pump keeps the cellar - basement - dry. Church records are kept therein. Not locked away, but available for anyone to look at and wonder? Time stood still for me but passed swiftly by when I opened up a few volumes., to refresh my memory. Would love to possess a copy of same.

I have never enjoyed the company nor pleasure of a Pomeranian, but my life has frequently been blessed by the company of a dog(s). Firstly my faithful Whippet cross Bruce. Later Duchess a Newfoundland. Terriers - both Scottish - Digger and Muffy, then two Rough Haired Terriers - Scamp and Topsy. Almost forgot! We had one named Patchy, who we left behind when we came to Canada. Neighbours of ours loved him as much as ourselves, so it was no great parting when we left. Any tears were ours! We did visit him six years later - grey haired and slow in walk, and nearing the end of his long 19 year life. He recognised my wife and I immediately when we met up with him again. The there was Ruffy, a Welsh Sheepdog. Finally, my much loved and still sadly missed Kuvasz - “Nootka” (Big Wind in Eskimo language). He was stricken with a brain tumour at the age of 7 years! Even today 18 years on, a tear wells in my eye when I recall his ways ,and how we enjoyed our walks together. I still mourn his passing. Faithful to the end, he would defend me from all and any suggestion of danger! Without my asking. I have written numerous poems about my doggie companions - a couple of loving cats too, Denis.

So another Chapter from me, added to the saga entitled Mini Story. So now? 10 words:

sump pump
genealogical
serendipity
shopping list
waist coat
bodice
dahlias
cherry tree
sandals
threshing

[Psyche]

Getting water from the village well which was truly the Wellspring of water, news and gossip, all carried out under the guise of drawing water from the deep - 60 feet down - mid-village well. Many a time I have drawn water for my much loved Grandparents, who were in my eyes at least - ancient but incredibly generous folks. It was a gathering place for all manner of folks. Some would be dressed in clothes that signalled their profession. Gaiters for example, like my father wore, meant either a Carter or Groom. A Badge of Profession if you like. Many general farm workers wore them too. Especially great for Threshing. They prevented mice crawling up your pant legs - had it happen to me several times - I never wore gaiters.
Today should I take a trip down memory lane and visit the many graves in the Cemetery, I can easily relate to the Genealogical connections so many villagers possessed with my family. Nearly all were large families those days. The Bere’s took the crown with 22 children! Close behind was another - The Cutlers with 18! Ours was small in comparison - only 9! My Uncles and Aunts. Father was number 4. Christened Henry Thomas his brother - born the same year, was christened Thomas Henry! A little unintentional humour perhaps? To me our family was the epitome of perfection. Truly a Serendipity - a Haven if you like - where we youngsters bonded and became strong and resilient! 10 at the time it stands me in good stead even today - 80 years on!

If there is anything I would add to my Shopping List of life, it would be to have a day such as I enjoyed all those years ago, when I, a mere 10 year old lad. The closest I can come to this Utopian idyllic happening, was when I returned in 1998 to revisit the village in which I was born. Many changes, as expected. The Church? Electricity had been installed and Ceiling fans wafted overhead. A Sump Pump keeps the cellar - basement - dry. Church records are kept therein. Not locked away, but available for anyone to look at and wonder? Time stood still for me but passed swiftly by when I opened up a few volumes., to refresh my memory. Would love to possess a copy of same.

I have never enjoyed the company nor pleasure of a Pomeranian, but my life has frequently been blessed by the company of a dog(s). Firstly my faithful Whippet cross Bruce. Later Duchess a Newfoundland. Terriers - both Scottish - Digger and Muffy, then two Rough Haired Terriers - Scamp and Topsy. Almost forgot! We had one named Patchy, who we left behind when we came to Canada. Neighbours of ours loved him as much as ourselves, so it was no great parting when we left. Any tears were ours! We did visit him six years later - grey haired and slow in walk, and nearing the end of his long 19 year life. He recognised my wife and I immediately when we met up with him again. The there was Ruffy, a Welsh Sheepdog. Finally, my much loved and still sadly missed Kuvasz - “Nootka” (Big Wind in Eskimo language). He was stricken with a brain tumour at the age of 7 years! Even today 18 years on, a tear wells in my eye when I recall his ways ,and how we enjoyed our walks together. I still mourn his passing. Faithful to the end, he would defend me from all and any suggestion of danger! Without my asking. I have written numerous poems about my doggie companions - a couple of loving cats too, Denis.

So another Chapter from me, added to the saga entitled Mini Story. So now? 10 words:

sump pump
genealogical
serendipity
shopping list
waist coat
bodice
dahlias
cherry tree
sandals
threshing

My neighbour was emptying the sump in his basement with a brand new pump, all the while threshing around amongst old cardboard boxes and furniture. He was in a foul temper.
Just then, I noticed a gentleman in a silk waistcoat with a beautiful lady wearing a bodice embroidered with dahlias. She tiptoed daintily in her tiny gold sandals. The elegant couple sat under a cherry tree across the street, where there's a grand mansion. The gentleman had all the appearance of being serendipitous, but it so happens that I studied genealogy when younger, so I knew some scandalous truths about him.
He was no gent, but a cad and a shameless bounder, who tricked pretty girls into having affairs with him. Of course, he left them high and dry when they became pregnant. I felt sorry for this damsel.
I went inside my house and found my wife preparing the shopping list. She said that I should not be nosy and leave well alone.
I was unable to sleep that night, so the next morning I walked over to the mansion and rang the bell. A uniformed butler opened the door. I said I wished to speak to the lady of the house. To Madame, sir? Er...yes, I answered, doubtfully. I'm sorry, said the butler, but Madame is with a client at this moment. Would you care to wait on the red couch, she'll be ready for you soon. She's busy in Room 9.
My wife, as usual, is right.

threshing
sandals
waist coat
shopping list
genealogical
premature
parlament
Rhodes
cat food
alligator

[Rhymer]

I was in the basement, my mind Threshing ideas around to see what I could come up with. A few Premature ideas, had already been dismissed as being little more than fanciful possibilities - Cat food if you like? that too was another item to cross off my Shopping list as being pointless, and not at all helpful. I felt like an Alligator without a tail trying to swim against the river current. Here was I, a Rhodes Scholar, sitting in my rented quarters, opposite Parliament wondering what next? Tucking my fingers into my Waistcoat I decided there was more interesting things to do than study Genealogical possibilities, so putting my Sandals back on my feet I sauntered off to the nearest Bar where I could relax and think of ten words to tease the twosome of Sylvia and Daniel before either could bring this Mini Story to a conclusion! Onward and upward as they say. Rhymer.

premature
parlament
Rhodes
cat food
alligator
Congress
Jumping Jehovah
Catfish
Manners
Poets Corner.