Good
morning. I hope this beautiful, albeit cold, day finds everyone well.
Thankfully, yesterday’s early morning snow did not amount to anything.
As
I do each morning, I reread my response to the previous day’s challenge. When I
did so today, I realized my response only used two of the required three words.
I did not meet the three word challenge. Many times, the ten minute allotment
does not give me enough time to finish a story, but on these three word
challenges I do try to fit the words into the story early on so the goal is
met. I could fib and say the word “strange” would have come up when Nick and
Krista discover the wine cellar, but to be honest, I read the prompt
incorrectly and thought one of the words was “surprise”, not “strange”. It’s pretty
sad when I can’t even remember my own challenges. LOL.
Faerie
Tale Queen is moving along. The ideal target number for day thirteen is 21,666.
I’m not sure if I will hit it, but I’ll get close. Kieren and Caleb – yeah, love
his name, just not for this story, so y’all can chime in any time now with
suggestions – have finally met. It was a somewhat awkward encounter, and Kieren’s
thoughts had me chuckle. Her inner voice is rather feisty.
I
was concerned as to being able to make the dialogue genuine. Not a believable
conversation, I think I do well with that, but the Irishmen vs. New Yorker.
Although we all speak English, some of the words we use mean different things.
Silly things like remembering over here chips mean potato chips and over there
they mean fries, and potato chips are crisps. Luckily, the internet has just
about everything you are looking for, so I was able to compile a list from several
sources. What I found most interesting was there are several words I, and many
in my family, use quite frequently without realizing they weren’t really “American”
expressions. I guess it’s my quarter Irish heritage showing through.
Time
to make my daily 3,300 mile journey. Wish me God’s speed. I hope you have a
glorious day, and happy writing!
Your Last Challenge:
A week’s worth of cleaning, shopping,
preparing, cooking and stressing, but everything is finally done. After my
husband carves the bird, we’ll call everyone to the table. I so love having the
family all together.
I take a moment to double check my
daughter’s table setting skills, to make sure each setting has a napkin and the
forks and knives are in their proper place, when it hits me for the first time
that there are so few settings at the table. There are only nine this year, a
mere third of what once was.
Today is a day for giving thanks, yet I
cannot help but feeling sad. Our older relatives are either too sick to attend
or have passed away, friends elected to go on a cruise, even one of our
children will be spending the holiday with the in-laws instead of with us. We didn’t need to add any leaves to the table,
and when the butcher asked if I wanted the usual, and I had to tell him no, we
only needed a regular sized bird this year.
I begin to think about what future
Thanksgivings will look like. Soon all of our children will be off with their
own families, celebrating the holidays; too soon our parents will be gone, and
our friends will have moved away. For over twenty-five years, Thanksgiving has
been my holiday. The one time of the year when I got to feed all the people I
loved, and it was slowly slipping away from my grasp. Would I be cooking for
just my husband and myself? Would we be guests at someone else’s home?
My husband interrupts my melancholy. “Ready?”
He asks as he places the platter of meat in the center of the table. I wipe
away my tears and nod. Instead of fretting over what’s to come, I decide to be
thankful for the day I have, and enjoy my loved ones while I still have them.
Your
Next Challenge is:
You are walking down an alley and you come to an unusual
dead end. There are several recognizable portals in front of you – Alice’s Rabbit
Hole, A Wardrobe, The Entrance to 221B Baker Street, Boo’s Door, Maxwell Smart’s
Phone Booth, Dumbledore’s Spiral Staircase, (insert one I didn’t think of). You
turn around to go back, but you find your way blocked. Your only option is to choose.
You have 10 minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong,
just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count and NO ONE is allowed to
criticize what someone else has written. Go.
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